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He let us into the hotel room, only the third one I had ever been in my life, and by far the nicest. Not that that should have been a surprise given how gorgeous the outside, lobby, and even the hallways were.
But this felt like, well, coming home.
Everything from the pristine – and unexpected – gray-wash hardwood floors, to the white nightstands and dresser, to the slightly shimmery champagne-colored drapes that skirted the ground, suited the style I liked most.
Clean.
Classy.
Understated.
My eyes roamed over to the bed, large enough for two, surely, but somehow seeming small, but with a beige tufted headboard, beige sheets, and pure white comforter.
I found reassurance in that.
Having a bit of a thing about things being in order and clean, the idea of a stark white comforter said that the thing needed to be washed – and often – to keep it that clean-looking.
I turned to find Kai watching me, and found myself wanting to ask if this was why he picked the room, because he saw the room pictures online, and knew I would feel at home here.
Well, at home without all the ugly memories attached to all the items scattered around.
I was suddenly very strangely pleased by the fact that Gary hated my snow globes, that those were still mine and mine alone, that his touch and voice hadn’t tainted those for me as well.
At least that was something.
I could get new furniture, new clothes, but there was nothing I could do about the snow globes, about the meaning and attachment behind them.
So I was almost foolishly thankful that he hated them.
“How about I go find us some dinner?” Kai suggested as he put our bags down on the dresser beside the TV. “Wraps?” he asked, expecting an automatic yes. Because, well, salads, wraps, fruit, and oatmeal were pretty much ninety-eight-percent of my diet. I’d been raised to eat healthy, had kept the habit as an adult because it was what I was used to, and because it kept me in shape without having to kill myself at the gym.
I wasn’t – luckily – an emotional eater, having never learned the behavior in my youth.
But just this once, yeah, I wanted to eat my feelings.
“Actually… do you think there are any pizza places nearby?”
“Pizza?” His voice and look on his face matched. Surprise. Confusion.
“Do you like pizza?”
“Everyone likes pizza,” he shot back, face softening. “What kind do you want?”
“Mushroom and onion.”
“Alright. Mushroom and onion it is. I’ll be back in like… half an hour.”
He went to move past me, opening the door before the words escaped me finally.
“Kai…”
“Yeah?” he asked, turning back as I faced him as well.
“Thank you,” I told him, voice a bit thick.
“For pizza? No thanks nec…”
“No,” I cut him off. “Not just for the pizza. For everything.”
His head ducked to the side, ear nearly touching his shoulder, eyes soft. “Don’t mention it, Jules.”
With that, he was gone, leaving me with the tight-chest thing.
Trying to think of anything but that – or the fact that my partner for the past almost two years was a liar and a con – I moved further into the room, finding a small tufted beige chair beside the dresser, sitting down, looking out the window at the slowly darkening day.
Not thinking.
I decided not to think as Kai got pizza, as he came back with it, as he sectioned it off onto plates he’d had the foresight to ask for, as we ate in silence while he flicked restlessly through the TV, trying to figure out the stations, eventually settling on an old Golden Girls rerun.
He shifted somewhat uncomfortably in his seat on the edge of the bed, seeming restless with the awkward silence, but willing to allow me it if that was what I needed. “Hey Jules?” he asked as I decided my stomach couldn’t fit another drop of grease.
“Yeah?”
“Have you talked to your family?”
My family.
God.
How had they all managed to slip my mind?
“Even just a text,” he told me as I hopped up to dig through my purse to find my phone. “Just tell them you will fill them in tomorrow. Today has been crazy enough; I’m not sure you can take anymore.”
My pride wanted me to object to that, to insist that I could handle more, I could handle anything that came my way. But, quite frankly, it simply wasn’t true. And Kai would know it was a lie.
“Yeah,” I agreed, shooting off a text to my mom and sister telling them I would explain everything after I got some sleep, not to worry about me. “I’m gonna take a bath,” I declared, digging in my purse to find a small plastic squirt bottle.
“What the hell is that?” Kai asked, brows drawn low.
“Bleach and water.”
“You keep bleach and water in your purse? For what?”
“For situations like this,” I suggested, rolling my eyes a bit.
