Page 65 of Lost Room Lawyer
“I’m sorry,” Juri apologized. “I didn’t mean to unsettle you.”
“No, it’s okay.” I shook my head in disbelief. “It’s just been a rough two weeks. I … I’m sorry I’m ruining your Sunday morning.”
“You’re always welcome here.”
Luca’s words surprised me so much that the heaviness of grief felt lighter. “Always … welcome?” The words sounded oddly out of place.
“Of course,” Luca replied. “You have no idea how important you are to Hector.”
“He probably doesn’t know himself,” Juri said casually, sipping his tea.
There was a moment of comfortable silence. I took a sip of my coffee and wondered how important Hector was to me. Surprisingly, I didn’t need to think about it for long.
When Hector had shown up at the funeral yesterday, the light had driven away the darkness. He had given me more comfort than all the condolences of the day combined.
No, I didn’t need to think about it. Hector was important to me. Very important. If the situation were reversed, I would be at his side now. No matter if Viktoria agreed, because I knew he needed me. Just as he was there for me now.
These thoughts made me tired and reminded me that it would take a while to adjust to the new situation. I was all the more relieved to have Hector. Nevertheless, I pushed myself up from the table.
“I need to lie down again. Somehow … I’m not quite myself.”
“Of course,” Luca said sympathetically. “Go ahead. I’m sure there will be another chance for us to talk—under better circumstances.”
“Thank you.”
As I went back to the room, I met Hector in the hallway. His office door was open this time; it was directly next to his bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” he asked with concern.
Despite the coffee, I felt as though all my energy had just drained away. Even for Hector, it was obvious that I was struggling to stay on my feet.
“I just want to lie down again, but …”
He put an arm around me and guided me back to the bedroom. “But what?”
“I could do that at home, if you’d prefer.”
“Nonsense.” He went to the sideboard and retrieved a pair of taupe sweatpants and a white T-shirt. “You can put these on if you want. They’re probably more comfortable than …” He gestured to my black mourning clothes.
“Are these yours?” I asked, surprised.
“No. Luca was kind enough …” Hector managed a smile. “I don’t own anything like this.”
“You don’t own sweatpants?” I asked, taking the clothes from him.
“No.”
It was endearing how he awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged—one of those moments when I forgot he was sixteen years older and felt the feelings I had for him with every part of my being.
With the clothes in my lap, I sat on the edge of the bed and hung my head. It felt great to be here with him. Just knowing he was near gave me strength.
Hector sat next to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. A gentle smile, a touch on my cheek, then a tender kiss on the lips that seemed to go on forever. I felt his soft lips more than ever, inhaled his breath, and clung to him tighter as we sank into the pillow. I never wanted to let go of him.
Hector rolled over me and kissed my neck, sending a tingling sensation across my entire body. Gently, he brushed my hair back and gazed at me with affection.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
I laughed—my first laugh in days—having seen myself in the mirror. I touched his lips with my thumb. “I …” The words I wanted to say were right on the tip of my tongue.
