“Cliff’s is down the hall and to the left,” I say as we make our way to my bedroom.
I push the door open and step aside so she can see. It's smaller than everyone else’s, but it's mine, and I've made it exactly what I need it to be. The bed is against the far wall, neatly made. My running shoes are lined up by the closet. A small desk with my medication organizer and a glass of water I forgot to bring downstairs yesterday.
And in the corner, next to the window, is my reading nook.
It's not much. Just a wide, low chair I found at a vintage shop two years ago, deep enough to curl up in with your knees to your chest. But I've piled it with pillows and blankets until it looks more like a mess than a chair. There are lots of soft things. A chunky knit throw Odette made me. A velvet cushion Perrin gave me as a joke, which I ended up loving. A weighted blanket folded across the arm. When I'm having a bad day and the fatigue hits, or my joints ache, or the world is too loud, I sit there with a book and let everything go quiet.
Elowen stops in the doorway. Her eyes find the nook, and something shifts in her expression. The tension in her shoulders softens by a fraction.
"That's really lovely," she says, and I think she means it. I can hear it in her voice. She's looking at my pile of blankets and pillows with genuine warmth.
"Thanks," I say. And for a second, I mean it too. “Actually, I don't sleep in here often,” I admit. “I’m normally in Cliff’s bed, but it’s nice to have somewhereto hide.”
Elowen smiles at that as I close my bedroom door.
We reach the end of the hall, where the hallway cuts left, and stop in front of the guestroom.
Cliff’s bedroom is to the left, and I feel Elowen turn toward it. It's the biggest door on the floor, slightly ajar, and from here you can see the edge of the bed frame and the warm wood of the dresser, but not much else.
I hitch my thumb toward it without looking at her. "That's Cliff's room," I say as I reach for the guest room doorknob.
A part of me knows I should offer a tour of the en suite, but she'll see it, eventually. I know that. I'm not stupid or naive. I understand exactly what it means that Cliff mated her and what that's going to look like going forward.
I'm not ready to be the one who shows her where it happens.
I'm trying very hard not to be bitter about that, and I think I'm doing a reasonably okay job of it. Mostly.
“And here is the guest room.” I push the door open, then stand to one side. "This can be yours. For now. Or for however long. I don't know how any of this works yet." My mouth does something caught between a smile and a wince, and I let it be whatever it is.
“It’s perfect.” Elowen steps inside and sets the plastic bag on the bed.
The space isn’t super big, but it has its own window, a walk-in closet, and a full-size bed with a plain white comforter.
"Thank you." Elowen turns to me. “Seriously, Adam. Thank you so much.”
She looks so small standing in the middle of that guest room. I'm not exactly tall myself, but she barely reaches my chin, and in Raff's oversized T-shirt with her wavy hairtucked behind her ears and her bare feet on the hardwood, she looks so fragile and kind of scared.
Everything about this makes my gut twist with guilt.
And I hate it.
“No problem.” I nod once, then head back to my room. It takes everything in me not to run down the hall.
I close the door behind me and lean against it for a second, letting the silence settle.
"Meds," I whisper to myself as I cross to my desk and pull open the drawer.
I grab my pill organizer and flip open today's compartment. I tip the four pills into my palm, and swallow them dry like I have every day since I was eleven years old.
My shoulders are already stiff. I roll my neck and feel it crack twice, the tension sitting in my muscles like concrete.
Please don't be a flare.
I press my thumb into the space between my knuckles, testing. The joints are tender, and slightly swollen. Not terrible, but not great either.
Given the last twenty-four hours, the stress alone could trigger a flare. It wouldn't be the first time my body decided to punish me for not sleeping or eating right.
Restless, I decide to check my meds.
