19. amelia
19
AMELIA
I was still somewhat in disbelief that Gray had left me alone in his hideaway after keeping it a secret from me for nearly a week. After he left, I sat on the kitchen counter for a long while, reflecting on the previous night and finishing the tea he had brewed for me earlier.
Looking around, I saw his touch in every little detail. How much of this house had he built himself? It seemed impossible that he had only taken care of the interior. Even the small cottages he rented out to guests bore an unmistakable mark that could only be traced back to him.
I had never encountered a kitchen like this in any store. Solid wood. Unfinished. Black handles. A gas stove. Open shelves, with only two cabinets that had glass doors with muntins. Right above the stove, there was another shelf that held glasses and several bottles of wine. It must have been easy for Gray to reach them. I probably would need the help of a step stool.
Here, too, the windows were huge and transformed into a door that led outside to the porch. However, this side of the house faced the woods, so stepping out of the kitchen practically meant walking straight into nature. The dark wooden floor seemed to run through the entire house as I hadn't seen anything different in any other room so far.
Still, there was much left to discover. Besides the kitchen and living room, there were also a bathroom and a bedroom, both of which I had only seen in dim light—during a time when I hardly cared what they looked like.
Perhaps it was time for a little exploration. On my way to the living room, I picked up my phone and sent Manon a brief message. How much I would share with her about last night was still undecided, especially since I wanted to ask Gray for his thoughts before spilling all my secrets to her.
Just as I was returning to the bedroom to borrow at least a pair of boxer shorts, my phone rang. Without looking at the display, I answered.
"Oh my god, is that his bedroom, Amelia?"
Usually, we stuck to initials, but whenever Manon was excited, she suddenly remembered my full name.
Now, I did look at the display. She had started a video call, which meant she had a view of the unmade bed.
Compared to the rest of the house, Gray had decorated his bedroom in darker tones. Gray. Black. Here and there, a lighter tone or a gold accent. Pelts lay on the two armchairs flanking the terrace door. And the bed… it was not only the most comfortable one I had ever slept in but it was also one of those pieces of furniture that determined whether the room felt cozy or seemed to stretch into eternity.
"That's correct," I confirmed, walking across the carpet to the bed and flopping down into it. Before tucking my legs under the blanket, I took a deep breath.
I could really get used to having his scent around me all the time.
"And now you're in his bed. That's all I need to know. You guys had sex. I can practically smell it."
Slowly, I rolled onto my stomach and set the phone on a pillow, making myself a bit more comfortable. It was still incredible to me that every room in this house offered the best view of nature. Looking out the window here felt almost as if I was nestled in the treetops.
"I'm not going to comment on that. Think what you like."
"I need details," Manon said in an exaggerated, whiny voice. The tone wasn't even necessary; I already knew that curiosity was her middle name. "Was he good? Please tell me he was good."
Until then, I hadn't minded sharing certain experiences with her, going into detail as if she had been there. But with Gray, I felt a strong urge to protect what we had.
"Come on. The man has a luxurious canopy bed. I need to know what that says about him."
"It says he knows what he's doing and can make me happy."
"Happy, huh? Not just 'satisfies me'?"
"No, because it's more than that." I just wasn't sure how Gray felt about it. He had emphasized several times that I owed him nothing. That he would accept it if I ever got up and left, never to return.
However, having seen his expression that morning, thinking I had actually disappeared, I knew it was a lie. Using him as he suggested would hurt him just as much as it would hurt me.
Yet something was hanging in the air that neither of us really wanted to address. And it was best left that way for a while because as long as I could enjoy my time with him without stress, I would gradually heal all the parts of me that had suffered over the past years. That was the effect his behavior had on me—whether he realized it or not.
"And if I'm reading your expression correctly, you don't want to talk about it."
"Right."
"Will you at least show me the rest of the house? If the bedroom looks like this…"
"The rest is even better," I confirmed, climbing out of bed to take her into the adjoining bathroom. In front of the windows stood a huge claw-foot tub, painted the same color as the walls, which shimmered in a pale green.
I spotted my own plants, perfectly mingling with the palms, ferns, and monsteras. The vanity was made of wood, the basin of white stone. Black lamps hung on either side of the mirror, their shades gilded on the inside.
"It looks like you're in a damn luxury hotel," Manon noted.
It didn't feel like a hotel though. Most hotels lacked personality. Charm. Soul. Everything there might look graceful and luxurious, but in the end, it just didn't feel like home. Despite Gray's choice of style, every room in this house felt cozy.
To confirm this, I went to the next room. Pushing open the door, I stood rooted to the spot as I faced a combination of an office and a library. Ceiling-high shelves, the topmost of which could only be reached with a ladder. A leather couch stood in front of one of the shelves, and the only window in the room framed the desk. Even this room had its share of plants sneaking in—as was the case throughout the house.
"Okay, say what you want, but at some point in his life, this man did a hell of a lot right," Manon declared.
Or perhaps he had been so deeply hurt that he poured his whole heart into this place, but I didn't say that out loud. The entire house felt like something out of a dream. All the cozy nooks, designed to enjoy the surroundings. All the plants, even though it was already nestled in nature.
"Who knows," I muttered. "Let's talk again in a few days, okay?"
Before she could protest, I hung up. After walking over to the window, I discovered something else that caught my attention.
Outside, surrounded by trees, was a massive greenhouse—and from this vantage point, it looked to house not just vegetables but a whole array of tropical plants as well.
When I pushed the door open and entered moments later, I realized it was a blend of a greenhouse, a workshop, and a second living room. Here, too, there were shelves, and when I looked up, I could see snippets of sky peeking through the canopy of trees.
How was I supposed to spend the rest of the day here without hopelessly falling in love with this place?
Resolved, I grabbed a book from his shelf and opened the music app on my phone. The only question that remained was where to read… or whether I should change locations after each chapter so that by the end, I could choose a favorite spot.
As I settled onto the couch in Gray's greenhouse, I also realized that I hadn't felt this content in a long time, as I did that morning.