Chapter 14 #2
“This is a non-smoking building. The super will—” I huffed out a breath.
“You know what, I can’t deal with this right now,” I muttered, trying to walk through a sea of tulle, backing away from my gorgeous door.
“Donovan, step back. It’s fine. Seraphina is twenty-four and only one-hundred pounds soaking wet. ”
“She could still be dangerous, Chosen.”
“She’s not.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wasn’t so sure. I glanced at Bart. “Is she?”
“Seraphina is completely human, as far as I know,” he confirmed. “The jury is out on whether she’s dangerous or not,” he added under his breath.
That was a can of worms I wasn’t ready to address yet. I straightened my shoulders. “Violet, can you please reconstruct my tiny apartment? Just around the door, please.”
Walls slid into place in front of us, rising up effortlessly from the floor.
A low ceiling sprouted from the walls, capping off the tiny, boxy apartment.
I watched it in wonder, horrified by how tiny my old apartment had actually been, especially in context of the huge vaulted-ceiling drawing room with the glorious, domed stained-glass skylight above my head.
My old apartment really was the size of a shoebox.
It only cut off one corner of the room we were standing in right now.
There was a sharp knock from within the box. Seraphina was at my front door.
“Thanks,” I said to my House. “Can you please give me a way to get inside?”
A door grew in front of me from a tiny speck, popping up like a pimple.
I turned and narrowed my eyes. “Please stay quiet,” I ordered the others. I bundled up the layers of tulle in my hands, opened the door, and marched inside.
The door shut gently behind me, and I stared at my old apartment.
A feeling of intense vertigo overwhelmed me so violently, I stumbled.
The apartment was back to exactly what it looked like before—one tiny room, the kitchenette to the side, the slightly ajar sliding door leading to the tiny bathroom.
My bed was folded up, the curtain drawn.
My soft, cushy green-velvet armchair was waiting for me by the window.
I shook myself. If it wasn’t for the bedazzled bodice and layers of tulle around me, it would be easy for me to think that the last twenty-four hours of my life were a crazy dream.
Knock, knock.
I walked forward and opened the door.
Seraphina stood in the hallway. She was alone. My heart cracked a little. I’d been hoping…
She smiled softly. “Hello, Susan.”
Seraphina always reminded me of a beautiful deer, tall and willowy, reed-thin, with delicate features, long silky strawberry blonde hair, a pointed chin, huge vivid-blue eyes and a smattering of freckles on her button nose.
I had a deep appreciation for beauty, and I’d always loved looking at Seraphina.
She was stunning—a softly-spoken, fragile, delicate flower.
My eyes traveled downwards and noted the gentle curve of a bump on her belly.
My throat went dry. “Erachhh.”
Seraphina blinked. A tiny crease appeared in the smooth skin of her brow as she frowned. “Are you okay, Susan?”
I swallowed the enormous lump in my throat. “I’m, um, I’m fine.”
“Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I had to back up all the way to the far wall to let her in. The skirt of my gown was ridiculous.
“I see you’re playing dress-ups.” Her voice, as usual, was so quiet, I had to strain to hear her. “That’s nice. Good for you.” There was no hint of maliciousness in her gentle smile, no trace of bitchiness in her soft tone.
“Uh. Yes.” Come on, Susan. You’re a strong, smart, capable woman. “I’m just trying on a few things.”
Seraphina drifted effortlessly over to the window and glanced out. “I love your apartment. It’s so… uh… cozy.” Her huge, innocent eyes blinked around at the tiny box surrounding her.
“Thanks,” I managed.
“You’ve made very efficient use of the space.” She paused again by the window and leaned against the counter, posing like a model, so effortlessly elegant. Her belly jutted out a little further. “I love how you’ve decorated it.”
My hands were beginning to shake. “Is there something I can help you with, Seraphina?”
She blushed and looked down demurely. For the first time—for the very first time—I wondered if it was all an act. Who can blush on command, though?
“This is so embarrassing,” she whispered. “I’m sorry to barge in on you like this, Susan. But your alimony check didn’t arrive.”
I opened my mouth. Nothing came out.
I closed it and tried again. “Oh.”
I’d sent it, just the same as I’d done every month. It wasn’t due until tomorrow. I always posted it a couple of days early, so Vincent always got it a couple of days early. It wasn’t even late yet, but they’d both taken it as a sign that something was terribly wrong with me.
“Please don’t worry yourself,” Seraphina said hastily, holding up her hands. “Vincent doesn’t mind. He was just…” She blinked, tilting her head, watching me carefully with concern in her eyes. “He doesn’t need it, of course, so it doesn’t matter. We don’t mind.”
I swallowed again. This damn lump in my throat was going to choke me. “Of course.”
A strange noise floated through the walls. It sounded like a horse’s huff.
In fact, it sounded like a horse huffing out the word whore.
I barely noticed. Seraphina was right; Vincent didn’t need my money now.
Now that we were divorced, his parents had written him back into their will.
They were the ones who’d given him the money to rebuild and restore my house.
The alimony was court-ordered, though. I still had to pay him most of my salary.
“We thought it might have something to do with the building deed transfer,” Seraphina went on. “Our lawyer called and told us about your purchase this morning. He was really angry, he thought…” She trailed off again, and her eyes widened. She’d obviously noticed the look of confusion on my face.
We stared at each other in silence for a second. “What, Seraphina? What building deed transfer?”
Seraphina hesitated, then her tense expression relaxed a little.
“Don’t worry about it, Susan. I’m sure it was some kind of mistake.
Maybe someone put the wrong name down. Your, uh, your surname is common, so it was probably a different Susan Moore, and our lawyer got angry over nothing.
” She smiled. “We know you’re not the type of person that would hide assets. I’ll tell him to back down.”
My stomach churned again.
“It’s just…” Oh, she wasn’t done. “When the alimony check didn’t show up yesterday, Vincent got worried about you.
” Her eyes were suddenly shining with unshed tears.
“We were both worried, so I thought I better come and check on you. Last we heard, you had this great little apartment, and a good job, and you were doing really well.”
I clenched my fists to stop them shaking. “I am.”
Seraphina nodded slowly. “So, everything is okay at your new job? You’re… uh… you’re holding it together okay?” She watched me carefully, looking at me in the same way the doctors watched me, analyzing every little twitch and quirk in my expression.
“I’m fine.” I had to bite the words out from between clenched teeth.
“Good,” she said finally. “I’m glad you’re getting better, Susan. I hope we can go back to being friends one day.”
The fire in my belly sparked. I clamped down. No. Not now. Not here. I am in control. My emotions do not control me.
Seraphina had never been my friend. She was only ever an employee—one of Vincent’s interns, an art student, just one member of a gorgeous group of young, dazzlingly brilliant up-and-coming artists who supported Vincent.
In truth, Seraphina wasn’t even much of an artist; she was just a beautiful, delicate ornament that hung around at parties and gallery openings and exhibitions.
I’d been a mother hen to all of Vincent’s interns.
They were all poor students, so I always made sure they helped themselves to food from my refrigerator.
I bought them booze and condoms and cigarettes, because if I was going to be a mom, I was going to be the cool mom.
I even introduced Seraphina to the immigration lawyer who helped her get her green card. I paid for it, too.
She gave me a gentle smile. “Don’t worry about the alimony for now. Just mail the check when you have a moment free.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and… Susan?” Seraphina shifted on her feet uncomfortably.
“Yes?”
She pointed to a little bronze sculpture of a ballerina on my bedside table. “I don’t want to be rude. I really don’t. But Vincent did get that Marlanique in the settlement.”
I felt like I’d been punched in the stomach. Vincent got everything in the settlement. My house, all our belongings, our entire collection of art…
“We were wondering where it went,” Seraphina went on in her beautiful, lyrical accent. “We were worried it had been stolen.”
The Marlanique was my favorite piece. And it had been stolen. I’d stolen it when the police escort took me through my house to get my clothes. My whole house had been filled with carefully curated, beautiful things, and that little sculpture was the only thing I had left.
A vision bloomed in my head; me picking up the bronze and smashing it into Seraphina’s face.
She had to leave now, before I hurt her. “Take it,” I bit out, my voice ice-cold.
She flinched, like a beautiful doe in a meadow startled by a loud noise, enormous eyes staring at me, horrified. She made me feel like a monster. “Susan… I am sorry. You know that Vincent and I didn’t want you to be hurt. We only want you to get better.”
I plucked the statue off the table and held it out in front of her. “Take it, and leave.”
She stumbled back as if I’d slapped her.
Tentatively, her hands shaking, she reached out and took the Marlanique in her thin, tiny hands.
“Susan, please. Don’t be like this. I’m sorry for how things turned out, I really am.
I know it all started when you went through menopause, and you couldn’t give him a baby, but you have to understand—”
Heat flooded me. The voice that came out of my mouth wasn’t human. “Get out of my house. Now.”
Seraphina jolted. Her eyes flew wide in an expression I’d never seen on her face before—true, horrified shock. Moving strangely, her natural grace gone, she shifted bolt upright, swiveled left, swung her arms, and marched out of the apartment like a robot.
The door slammed behind her.
“That’s right!” Cecil’s voice called out, muffled behind the wall. “Fuck off and don’t come back, you slimy little paddy bitch!”