Page 10 of Love Him Like Water

Outside of the door, my luggage was lined up neatly against the wall, and as soon as Elian pushed open the bedroom door to let me in, he started to grab each of them, moving them inside the door instead.

“Anything else, Mrs. Lombardi?” he asked.

“I… no. Thank you, Elian,” I said, giving him a small, forced smile as he nodded, moved out, and closed the door.

So.

This was Renzo Lombardi’s bedroom.

It smelled like him, was my first thought.

That smoky leather scent with a hint of tonka bean.

It had been pleasant up close at the altar.

But it was almost dizzying in this space.

There was another wall of windows with black casings and exposed brick. But the other walls, which I figured must have been erected sometime after the original brick, were smooth cement.

The floor was a rich hardwood with a distressed gray rug under the bed, so you stepped onto something warm the first thing in the morning.

The bed itself was massive. Bigger, I was sure, than any king-sized one I’d ever seen. Were there bigger types than that? There must be. Because Renzo had one.

It was set a little lower to the ground with a dark gray leather headboard and a bunch of lush gray bedding.

It was a far cry from my bedroom back at home. With the same white four poster bed I’d had since I was a little girl, and shades of beige and pink all around.

That was the point, though, wasn’t it?

A new life.

New things.

I would get used to the changes eventually.

Unsure what else to do with myself, I found the massive walk-in closet, and tucked all my things along one wall, figuring I would unpack slowly over the next few days.

Uncomfortable in my wedding gown, though, I went for a specific bag I’d packed. Inside, still gently wrapped in the tissue paper, was my new robe and matching nightie that the designer boutique had referred to as a ‘babydoll.’

I took that package as well as a small toiletry bag with me across the primary suite toward the open door of the bathroom.

Back at home, I had my own bathroom. A luxury, for sure. But my father had insisted as we were growing up that being the only girl in a house full of boys, that I deserved my own bathroom space.

But it was a little shoebox room with a pedestal vanity with no storage for my things, and shower niche barely big enough to turn around in.

No bathtub.

And I can’t say how many times I’d fantasized about having my very own deep soaking tub to submerge in.

Apparently, my dreams came true with Renzo’s en suite bathroom. Which, honestly, might have been as big as my bedroom at home.

There were more exposed brick walls and wood tile floors, a double sink vanity, and a massive walk-in glass shower big enough for ten people to stand comfortably.

And, right near the tinted windows, there it was.

The soaking tub of my dreams.

Better, even.

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