There’s a short stairwell which empties out into a plain room. The space is smartly used—a large bed against the wall, a half-kitchen, and a private bathroom and shower. There are slotted half windows that look out to the backyard and give the illusion of natural light, but the room is mostly a cave lit by table lamps. He’s kept the room tidy, bed made with military precision—I’d expect nothing less from him.
It’s clear to me that this room was originally meant to be a guest room, or perhaps a space for short-term renters. It wasn’t meant to be occupied by the owner. It’s veryon brandfor Phantom to use up the least amount of space, even in his own house.
He hasn’t decorated, but the built-in bookshelf is stuffed with well-used paperbacks, so there’s hope for him yet.
“The sheets are clean,” Princess says, lingering at the bottom of the steps. “I put fresh towels in the bathroom and toiletries if you need them. I sleep in the attic, so if you need me…holler. Loudly.”
“Thank you, Princess.” I touch her arm. “Seriously.”
“Of course.” She waves and bids the kids goodnight as well.
My pocket buzzes with a text.
[Text: Dove]
Not stalking you buuuuut.
[Text: Dove]
Your location says you’re at the club??
[Text: Dove]
Are you with Phantom rn?
[Text: Ophelia]
yes and no.
[Text: Ophelia]
he’s doing me a favor.
[Text: Ophelia]
long story. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.
[Text: Dove]
kk. I took Spud out. Everything’s hunky-dory here. See you when I see you.
[Text: Ophelia]
Thanks babe. Love you.
[Text: Dove]
Love you more.
It’s good to know that my absence from the house was noticed. I’m sure she and Dorian will enjoy having the apartment to themselves tonight. Still—it’s good to know someone always has my back, and I appreciate my non-biological-sister for checking in.
Aleena and I then set about putting the kids to bed. Squeaky complains when we wake him up and Kira is too hyper, excited by sleeping over in a new space. Aleena and I divide and conquer. As I’m putting Kira’s PJs on, my eyes settle on two framed pictures on Phantom’s bookcase. One is of his mother (aw, sweet), and the other…is less sweet. It’s the picture of a woman with her arms behind her back, purple and blue rope crisscrossing in intricate patterns from her upper arms all the way down to her wrists. She’s got her head tilted towards the camera in a coy half-smile, and…
Whoops! Not any woman! That’s me!
I deftly snatch up the picture and shove it awkwardly behind my back. When Kira goes to the bathroom to brush her teeth, I shove the photo in one of the drawers under the sink.
Aleena and I get the kids in bed. Once they’re both fast asleep, I go upstairs. Phantom has a wine rack in the kitchen and I go through his reds. I pick out the cheapest looking bottle. I feel like he’d be fine with this, and if not, well, I’ll buy it from him. We’ve earned this. I pour Aleena and I two glasses and tiptoe back downstairs. We sit side by side on the staircase where we can watch the soft rise and fall of the kids’ bodies, deep in sleep, a single lamp gently illuminating them. The first sip of wine tastes like some kind of heavenly reward for a crazy-fuck night.
