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I stand there looking at Simon. He is looking at me. Henry is babbling and pulling my hair like nothing has happened.
Simon is suddenly propelled into action; he grabs Henry and starts toward the back of the flat, holding Simon away from him like he’s holding something toxic, yelling at me, “Follow me, you need to take that off and put something else on.”
I trot down the hall after Simon, feeling the baby shit seeping into my clothes, sticking to my skin and I want to cry. This is what my nosy ass gets. I should have just been a normal person and listened to office gossip.
When we reach the hallway, Simon points to a door on the left while he steps into the door directly across from it.
“Go in there, that’s my room, use my bathroom to wash up, you’ll see the towels on the right and my closet’s open, you can grab a shirt to wear.” Then he disappears.
I walk into his bedroom and it is just as I would have imagined. Immaculate, massive, and calm. His bed is neatly made with sheets in cool g
rey and whites. The walls are the palest shade of grey and the massive windows are covered with blinds which are drawn to cover what I have no doubt are fantastic views of West London.
He has a bookshelf that covers almost the entire right wall, just like I do. If I wasn’t covered in shit I would run over and see what the man reads.
I rush into his bathroom and again, am struck at the sheer size of it. The grey and white color scheme are followed in here. I rip my sweater off. My bra is also soiled and comes off next. I am not one of those women with breasts small enough to go without a bra on a regular basis, but I’ll have to just make due tonight.
I grab a washcloth from the stack by the sink—this place is like a hotel—get some soap on it and wash myself clean. I use some of the lotion I find on his vanity. Smelling a lot better and a lot like Simon, I walk over to his open closet and grab one his shirts. I put it one and it swims on me. I button it, tie it at the bottom and hope that he can’t see my tits swing free underneath.
I put my dirty clothes in a plastic bag I find in the corner and hope I don’t offend anyone on my train ride home.
By the time I come back out into the living room. He is sitting on the couch by himself.
“Where’s Henry?” I ask. Looking around for the little trouble maker.
“Apparently, he likes to take a dump before he goes to sleep. He passed out while I was cleaning him up, and I put him down for the night. He probably won’t wake up again until I’m about to leave for work.”
I sit down on the opposite end of the couch from him. “So, you’re coming back to the office?” I ask cautiously.
“Yes. He’s been sick and I wanted to be close by, but his fever is down, and I really need to get some face time in with the other architects, I think. Working from home is great, but I won’t want to take advantage of the flexibility they give me.” He says with a sigh. He rubs a hand tiredly over his face, and I take that as my cue to leave.
“I should be going…,” I say as I start looking around for my stuff.
“I haven’t fed you yet, Addie. And now, I think you’ve really earned it. You brought me my documents, babysat my nephew, and got his shit all over you. Come on, eat.”
He is looking at me with a wry smile. His eyes, though, they are anything but wry, making the air feels heavy.
Henry was like a safety barrier between us and with him gone, there is nothing keeping me from crossing the lines I promised myself I wouldn’t cross.
“Simon, that’s sweet of you, but you don’t owe me and honestly, I’ve intruded enough.” I say in a tone which sounds less than certain, even to me.
His eyes soften and his expression is tender but direct as he takes my right hand and holds it in both of his.
“Addie, do you want me to beg? Just have dinner with me. And when you’re ready to go, I’ll call you a cab,” he says this in a rumbling tone I recognize and it sends a shiver through me. He stands up and heads into the kitchen again.
I feel like I’ve been hypnotized and all I can do is nod and say “Okay, sure. Thank you,” On legs that are less than sturdy, I stand up and follow him.
When we get there, he grabs two plates, forks and knives, and glasses, and puts them down. He dishes out the food and we move to the table he has set up in the dining area just off to the side. My mouth waters as the aroma of the food fills the air and I remember how hungry I am.
“Nice place you got here.” I say as I dig into the steaming dish of spicy chicken stew and rice Mercy left for us.
“Thanks, I’ve been here for about two years.” Simon says as he glances around, surveying his place with obvious pride and affection.
“So it’s just you and Henry? A real bachelor’s pad…” I say with a smirk.
“Actually, no. My younger brother, Kyle, lives here as well. He’s a Master’s student at UCL and stays at the library late to study, but the three of us live here together.”
“Is he Henry’s father?” I ask and then immediately wish I could take my words back. Simon’s brows furrow at my words, and I am afraid my curiosity will break whatever resemblance of peace we have here.
