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My lungs suck in deep pulls of air as I count to three in my mind, working up the nerve to make the mad dash from my car to the door only fifteen feet in front of me. Mentally kicking myself for being weak, I step out of the car as normally as I can, my movements slightly jerky as I do. This is easy, there’s nothing to fear, no one is waiting for me in the shadows.
A door bangs open a few rooms down from mine, making me jump and swing towards the noise, my fists clenched in front of me. The air releases from my lungs as I see a woman, no older than my twenty seven, with light blonde hair pulled tightly into a bun and a cart of cleaning supplies behind her. She turns to me, smiling softly as she walks to the room right beside mine.
“You can just skip the room after,” I call out, my voice surprisingly calm sounding for the tornado of anxiety inside of me. “It’s my room and I’ve barely done more than drop my stuff.”
“Awesome! Thank you for letting me know.” She pauses, looking back at me with a contrite expression. “Normally we don’t clean the rooms this late, I’m sorry if I make any noise as I do the two rooms on either side of you.”
“That’s okay,” I assure her, an easy smile sprouting on my lips. “Life happens.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” she responds, an exhausted laugh coming from her. Her face is turned down in a frown that makes my heart hurt for her. I try to avoid interacting with most people, I’m not that easy to get along with, but sometimes I can’t help myself. My heart feels for this woman who looks so emotionally and physically drained.
“Are you okay?” I murmur as I get to my door. She hasn’t moved an inch, her shoulders slumped over as she stares blankly into the dark room in front of her.
That seems to shake her out of whatever rabbit hole her thoughts decided to take her down, a small, tired smile pulling at her mouth. She turns to me, her tired brown eyes taking me in for a moment before she bursts into tears.
“Hey,” I whisper, stepping closer to her. “What’s going on?”
“My boyfriend left me a month ago,” she cries, her head cradled in her hands. “We have a four month old baby girl and I’m just so tired. My mom is helping enough that I can come here and go to work so we can still eat, but I’m up with her every two to three hours at night still. Today she was late coming over so I was late getting here. I’m so far behind and I need to get home soon to take care of my little girl, I never miss bedtime for her. She’s the light of my life and I feel like I’m failing her.”
“How many rooms do you have left to do?”
“Just the four left on this strip, excluding yours.” She sniffles, looking up at me in confusion.
“Give me the cart and get home to your little one.” I grab the master key she still has hanging in her hand. “I’ll finish up these rooms and you can come pick up the key and cart from me tomorrow or I can put it back where you got it.”
“Why?” Her voice is shocked and soft as she continues to stare at me, her eyes not even blinking. “Why would you do that?”
“Because that precious little girl of yours deserves to have every moment she can with the mother that loves her unconditionally. I can see the sacrifice you’re making,” I say softly, my eyes filling with tears to match the ones falling down her cheeks. “You aren’t failing just because that deadbeat left you to do the job of two parents. I don’t know you, but the love you feel for her shines out of you. You can do this, you just need a little help. Let me help.”
“You have no idea what this means to me.” She steps forward, wrapping her arms around me in an hug. My one hand pats her on the back, my lack of physical touch making me awkward as fuck. When she steps back her face is lighter, like a weight was lifted just a little bit. “I’m Juliette.”
“Alayna.” Stepping back, I put some space between us to avoid any further touching and smile politely.
“Well, Alayna.” She smiles shyly, her eyes filled with gratitude. “I don’t know how I’ll ever make this up to you, but I will find a way.”
“It’s no problem.” I wave off her gratitude, I’m not doing it for that. “Now, get going. You have a sweet baby to see.”
Juliette looks at me with tears shining in her eyes and a beaming smile before she runs off to her car. I unlock my door and drag in the cleaning cart. My funeral best isn’t going to work for cleaning these four rooms. Tossing the clothes on my bed for now, I change into my faded black, almost grey jeans and black ribbed tank top. Taking one the hair ties out of my toiletry bag, I toss my hair into a quick braid and consider myself ready.
The cart is still fairly stocked, thankfully, so I quickly get to work on the first room. Cleaning has always been therapeutic to me, the simple repetitive motions soothe me while the single minded goal of getting things spotless eases my anxiety. When I first moved in with Melinda I was a mess. It was so hard for me to do anything at all, even getting out of bed was a chore. She taught me to take things one step at a time, plan a simple goal, achieve it, and move on to the next.
Surprisingly, it helped push back the depression and ease the anxiety I was feeling. Having a clear goal like being clean and then having the plan to do it, such as showering, helped a lot. It was seeing the end results though, that helped the most. It made me feel accomplished and realize there weren't any unknowns to fight. We moved from showering and eating to cleaning certain rooms of the house or reading a book in small sections. Cleaning then became the task I clutched onto when my world or mind started spiralling.
My world definitely feels like it’s spiralling right now. Everything I thought would happen, the magical happy ending I allowed myself to wish for, crashed the moment Rhys told me Dec was gone. I planned too big this time, I allowed myself to wish for too much. That only ever leads to pain and I fucking know that. The naive little girl that still lives inside me took over though, leaving me vulnerable and allowing my heart to be completely obliterated.
Clean the room. Finish the windows and mirror, watch how it shines when you’re done.
Melinda’s voice in my head soothes me, the lull of the clean pulling me out of my own mind. The rooms fly by after that, each task dulling my overwhelming emotions a little bit more. By the time all four rooms are done, I’m ready to fall asleep.
Pulling the cart and keys into my room, since Juliette never gave me an answer on that, I strip down to just my tank top and boy short panties. Shaking out my medication into my hand, I count out the four pills I take every night around ten o’clock. It’s my normal break time at the bar and my bedtime when I’m not working. They keep me as sane as they can, my coping mechanisms do the rest. Medication, therapy, and a healthy outlet, the three things that keep me a semi-functioning adult.
Grabbing my phone to set an alarm, I check for any missed messages. There’s only a simple all is well from Rachel letting me know that the bar is doing okay. After sending a quick reply, I plug it in on the bedside table and climb under the worn, thin covers of the bed. Closing my eyes, I allow myself to remember the good times I had with Dec. We may have been brought together in the pits of hell, but we made our own heaven despite it all.
Images of him singing to me, his crappy guitar clutched in his hands, or us on the roof under the moon, Dec explaining all of the constellations while I studied him instead, run through my mind. A tear escapes my eye as I start crying once more over the love I lost, this time more of a sappy mourning than the devastation from earlier. He broke up the darkness of my past, I wish I could have brought that same light to his future. That’s nothing more than a fool’s wish now, because I failed him.
I was too late.
Chapter Seven
