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“A cloth would be fantastic.”
Fortunately, the brownstone was not occupied. It had been remodeled by an investor, so there was actually a box of disposable hand towels on the vanity. I pulled one out and wetted it under the faucet. I lifted the back of her hair and pressed it against her neck. Then I flipped it over and did the same to her forehead.
“Should I grab us a cab or do you need to wait a few minutes? I can go see the upstairs with Krisha if you want to just sit.”
“Just give me a second. I want to see the bedrooms. I really like this place.” She looked up at me. “But does it make sense to invest in real estate if I’m being tossed out of the country?”
“Even if you have to go to the UK, it won’t be forever. Just a few months. If you really like this place, we should make an offer. This is a great street, it’s super quiet.”
Felicia wiped her mouth. She tossed the towel in the toilet and flushed. “Help me up.”
I offered her a hand. Once she was standing, she actually hooked her arm through mine and leaned on me.
What if she was pregnant? That would be both amazing and terrifying. I hadn’t pictured having a baby this soon. Talk about jumping in with both feet, damn.
She didn’t comment on it at all or offer any explanation for her sudden nausea, so I kept my mouth shut too even as my heart rate kicked up a notch or twelve.
The third floor had three bedrooms, a laundry room, and a bathroom clearly designed for children. It had a trough-style sink and a ton of built-in storage. The fourth floor was a massive master suite with a spa bathroom. Krisha chattered away and I picked up the slack for Felicia’s silence, talking finishes and square footage.
When we got back downstairs Felicia retrieved her purse from the island and hugged it to her stomach. “I think we should skip seeing that last listing today,” she said. “I want to lie down.”
“Of course, take care of yourself. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”
“I’ll be in touch,” I told Krisha. “Thank you for meeting us today.”
When we got outside I didn’t have a chance to ask Felicia anything.
She just put her hat on as we went down the steps and looked at me. “Michael?”
“Yes?” Why did that sound so fucking ominous?
“If we don’t get this house, I might actually die.”
That made me laugh, out of both relief and the dramatics of it. “So you like it?”
“I fucking love it. I will battle demons from hell if it means I can live in this house. It’s everything.”
“Maybe I should call Krisha right now.” I stood on the sidewalk and looked up at the house. It was a family home. If Felicia wanted to move here, she must want permanency with me. Then again, she didn’t want a marriage license, so I had no fucking clue what she truly wanted.
“Maybe we should think about it.” She looked up at the house with me, leaning against my arm.
I pulled her in to my chest and gave her a little squeeze. “Thinking is overrated. I’ve been doing it my whole life and what did it get me? Sometimes you just have to feel something.”
“Then I feel like I’m home,” she murmured.
I kissed the top of her fuzzy hat. “Me too.”
Pulling my phone out, I told it, “Call Krisha.”
Sixteen
The day was pure chaos.
There were strangers all over our flat setting up tables and chairs and prepping for the catering. There was hustling and bustling and chopping and chatter.
I wanted to throw up again.
Savannah came through the front door and hugged me. “Honey, it’s going to be okay.”
