Chapter 14 #4
The thought tore through the numbness, sending panic surging through me.
I shook my head hard and crushed the pillow against my chest, burying my face in her fading scent.
I breathed her in, trying to hold on to every trace of her, to carve the memory into my bones before time could take that from me too.
And then, when my mind could take no more, it gave me a sanctuary. A moment from before the fall, vivid and warm, from when I was still the man who deserved her.
“You can come now,” I called out, the blankets warmed and waiting. She slipped in from the balcony, a smile playing on her lips as she climbed into bed.
“You ready?” she asked, arching a brow.
I took a deep, dramatic breath and nodded. “Do your worst.”
Her legs found mine under the blanket, and a shock of cold hit me. I held out my hands, and she placed her icy ones in mine.
I rubbed her hands between mine, working warmth back into her chilled skin. “We were both on the same balcony. How are you always this cold, and I’m not?”
She leaned back against the pillows, her eyes sparkling. “Maybe I’m a ghost.”
I brought her hands up to my neck, letting her cool palms rest against my warm skin as I hovered over her. I pressed a soft kiss to the hollow of her throat. “Ah, then I’m honored that you chose me to haunt.”
Her giggle was the most beautiful sound I had ever known.
My kisses traveled from her neck to her jaw, and finally to her face, planting a constellation of them across her skin before I leaned back to look into her eyes. “So,” I asked, “what Mr. Fitzherbert story do you have for me today?”
Her eyes widened with humor and excitement. “You won’t believe what that cat did this time.”
I rested my forehead against her neck, content. “Try me.”
Her hand found my hair, her fingers gently stroking through it. “He stole the neighbour’s shoes.”
I leaned back to look into her eyes. “From inside their house?”
She nodded, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Yes.”
I frowned. “How did he manage that?”
“No idea,” she said, shaking her head. “All I know is that Felicity came home from work to find her neighbour shouting in the hallway, searching for his limited edition sneakers. When she entered her apartment, she found them right there in the middle of her living room.”
I could feel her feet finally warming up against mine. “What did she do then?” I asked, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
She gave me a look that said the answer was obvious.
“What do you think she did? Closed the door and pretended nothing happened. She didn’t want to give the building a reason to kick out the cat.
And besides, the neighbour deserved it. Do you remember how he screamed at her in the hallway last week for a single package that was delivered to his door by mistake? ”
I nodded, the memory surfacing clearly. The man had been unhinged as he berated Felicity for a simple courier’s error, calling her incompetent and careless.
Then a thought struck me, and I narrowed my eyes playfully at my wife. “Didn’t you say you were going to ‘deal with’ that guy?”
She lifted one shoulder, completely unbothered. “The cat got to him before I could. Maybe next time.”
I chuckled softly. “You’re going to get arrested one of these days.”
“And you’ll bail me out,” she said, certainty lacing her voice as she poked my chest.
“I’ll do more than that.” I pulled her flush against me, the last of the cold gone from her skin. “I’ll drive the getaway car.”
Her laughter filled the room. Bright, effortless, and completely mine.
The memory held me there, suspended in the warmth of our shared laughter, the feel of her skin, the sound of her voice. For a few precious seconds, it was real. I was there.
Then it shattered.
The warmth vanished, replaced by the chilling, empty air of the bedroom. The sound of her giggles dissolved into the deafening silence. My arms, which had been wrapped around the memory of her, were now just clutching a cold, rumpled pillow.
I opened my eyes. Darkness pressed in from every corner. The platinum ring felt cold against my finger. In the drawer beside the bed, the signed divorce papers waited.
I pressed my palm over the ring.
The man in that memory was gone. He had died a slow death over those months of neglect, and I had been too busy to notice the funeral.
Tomorrow.
The thought barely broke through the darkness pressing in around me, but I clung to it anyway.
Tomorrow, I would get up. I would stop hiding behind excuses and face every mistake I had made.
I would start fixing what I could, piece by piece, no matter how long it took.
Tomorrow, I would become the man I should have been all along.
Tonight, there was nothing left to do.
For now, in the bed that was still ours, I would lie beside the space she had left behind and let the emptiness swallow me whole.
There was nothing left to fix tonight, nothing I could say that would undo what I had done.
So I stayed there, surrounded by the remnants of us, and finally let myself feel the full weight of her absence.