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“God, I miss you,” I whimpered, feeling the weight of her death heavy on my shoulders, my chest,my everything.Everywhere.
Exasperated with the pain, utterly tired of hurting, I cowered. My world began to spin. I pressed my hands against the shower wall to settle myself, feeling my emotions overstimulating me.
“Please, my love, make it stop,” I begged. “I’m tired.”
Crinkled brows with weariness dripping from her features, I watched Anna disappear. While squeezing my lids to the point of pain, I groaned. I’d requested the impossible. I’d never experienced happiness in this lifetime and I was foolish for asking.
Moments of happiness were few and extremely far apart, never amounting to much of anything. Though fleeting, they were all I’d ever receive and I needed to learn to be alright with that. This was life after Anna. And, though shitty, my daughter deserved me in this lifetime.
Fuck.
The water masked my tears; tears I cried in solitude and within the folds of my shower. I scrubbed every inch of my body possible without irritation being a consequence. After the first round, I washed off and scrubbed down again.
When finished, I stepped out of the shower and onto the absorbent mat before placing my feet flat against the preheated floor. On the way out the door, I grabbed a large towel and covered my body. The moment I interlocked it, I was reminded that I hadn’t prepared any linen for the suite other than what was on the beds and hanging on the towel racks as decor.
The digital clock on the wall was a source of relief. It was a quarter until one. With any luck, Aussie’s new instructor hadn’t noticed the shortage of linen and I had time to grab a few pieces from the laundry until I managed to get more from the city in the upcoming days. City visits were dreadful, requiring proper planning for efficiency and success.
I tossed on a pair of shorts with a white shirt to match. Without socks to protect my freshly cleaned feet from the dust and dirt of the road traveling to the suite, I slid into a pair of Gucci slides and headed to one of the largest closets in my home. All the little things my wife required during the build of our home in the city I’d deemed useless all made sense now, including the enormous linen room. I found it to be one of the greatest features in this home.
Four large towels, extra sheets, additional pillow cases and an unopened stack of hand towels piled in my arms, restricting my view as I tried to keep my balance on the way out of the door. Up the road and onto the porch, I carried the load. I was unable to use a finger to ring the bell. There was too much riding on my arm’s stability. Instead of risking everything in my hands falling, I used my feet to tap on the door and stood back a bit to wait to gain access.
As the latches maneuvered, sounding off right in front of me, I straightened my posture and tilted my head to see around the pile of fabric in front of me. Like a cool breeze on a hot summer day, the sight of her regulated my body temperature. Guilt attempted to deregulate it again, but the coolness of the dwelling rushed out of the door, keeping me in good graces.
“Hi,” she exclaimed as she opened the door wider to accommodate the load I was carrying.
“A-ur. Air. Is that how you pronounce your name?” I asked, moving forward and into the suite.
In only three hours, she’d managed to alter its appearance and make it much more appealing than it was earlier this week when I’d began preparing it to show.
“Yes. Theehas no purpose. It’s pronounced,Air.”
I had no further questions. Accuracy was always a goal of mine. Pronouncing her name correctly would serve us both better. It was an insult for anyone to continuously mispronounce your government. I’d had it happen too many times before not to know the feeling.
“You never gave me your name,” she said, swallowing hard enough for me to see the lump lower in her throat.
“I didn’t,” I stated without intentions of giving it to her, either. “Mr. Domino is fine.”
At no point should she get things misconstrued. I was her employer and would be treated as such. First name basis wasn’t necessary on my end. But she’d freely given hers several times, which led me to believe it’s what she preferred being addressed as. I’d comply, but it didn’t mean I’d join.
“Understood.”
Her mildness was unsettling. She was as soft as she appeared, inside and out. She was a rarity. I’d come to that conclusion fairly quick. It was traits like those and ones similar that made women of her kind targets for the predators of the world.
The linen in my hand landed on the table with a light thud. I expected dust to fly all over the place, but there was none. She’d managed to clear surfaces and wipe down every trace of neglect. It was already beginning to look better.
I chastised myself under her glare, because it was damning. It made me aware of my own gaze, in her direction as she twirled her thumbs and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She’d ditched the basic cubical classic slacks and button down and settled for a loose-fitting dress that made her beauty timeless, as effortless as it was.
Fueled with anger and resentment for things I felt for this total stranger, I cut my eyes in the opposite direction and made sure my feet followed. I hadn’t gotten far before her delicacy burdened me. The sound of her voice playing like the sweetest melody on fresh vinyl in your favorite room.
“What do you usually eat?”
I closed my eyes, expecting my dear Anna behind my lids, but what I found was something much different. Something much more real. Something much more tangible. Aeir’s legs spread wide on the dining room table, daring me to feast.
“Food is plentiful.”
“I don’t eat meat.” She sniggered with a sigh, seemingly afraid to admit that bit of information. My heart dropped at the sound of her confession.
Neither did my Anna.
