Page 160 of A Convenient Secret
I take a shower and shave, but it doesn’t make me feel whole or normal. The hollow feeling keeps spreading, eating into my organs.
Instead of my bed, I go to my office. The housekeeper cleaned and aired it after Corm and the Merged entourage left yesterday.
I turn on the show, the comedy laughter becoming the torturous background of my time in my personal oasis. The armchair in the corner immediately sparks flashes of Lily crossing her legs.
The memory immediately moves my attention to the shelves, and how sweet and hot she was that night.
So much for my personal sanctuary. I exhale slowly, dragging a hand down my face. My muscles are tight, my head pounding. I should sit down. I should drink something. But if I learned anything this past week, alcohol doesn’t make the gloom go away; it deepens it.
Behind my desk, I first torture myself with some past footage of Lily in my house, and then try to work on the family tree I’ve been ignoring.
He might be one of those situations you actually want to have under control.
Mom’s words redirect my attention, and I start searching and making phone calls. She may no longer be here, but she’s still my wife. Mine to protect.
Two hours later, I have a few leads, and for the first time in days, the fog in my mind lifts slightly. Maybe I should try to sleep. I’m sure Zoya will wake me up at dawn.
I reach to turn off the lamp, and notice a folder peeking out from under the other paperwork. I don’tuse pink folders. That’s Roxy’s specialty, to diffuse the amount of testosterone in the office, as she puts it.
I pull it out and immediately recognize it. The idiots left the signed offer here, and the housekeeper must have tidied it under the other paperwork. God, my desk has never been this messy.
I take the folder to bring it downstairs, so I can have it delivered to our office tomorrow.
The city flickers beyond the terrace, and I stop dead halfway on the staircase.
The fairy lights flicker on the terrace. Lily hung them there. I drop to sit on a step. She’s everywhere. But the patio holds many special memories. I can practically see them all, as if the glass wall was a movie screen.
Lily in her purple dress. Me discovering her scars. Her blushing. Her arching her back. Laughing. Sharing a glass of whiskey with me. Looking so serene when she watched the city.
I don’t know how long I sit there, but for the first time, my reminiscence brings more than just pain, regret, and grief. It sparks determination.
I may not be able to control the situation, but am I going to let that prevent me from acting?
The folder in my hands is wrinkled from holding it in a white-knuckled grip. I pull out my phone and take a first step on the uncertain journey.
Chapter 32
Lily
Celeste
I miss you.
Saar
Stop being whiny, she doesn’t need that on her plate.
Celeste
I’m a breastfeeding sleep-deprived mother, I get to be as whiny as I want.
I can tell her I miss her.
You know I’m a part of this conversation.
And I miss you too.
Have you seen him?
