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Knowing sleep would be far away after the dream, she crawled out of bed, leaving the sheets in disarray behind her as she padded out of the room. The bathroom was closer than the kitchen, and she had seen those little paper cups stacked in there earlier. She didn’t bother flipping on the fluorescent light, not with the nightlight plugged in to the left of the sink. She filled one of the cups with water, drained it, and then also drained the refilled cup after.
The extra toothbrush and toothpaste next to hers reminded her that she wasn’t alone in the house. The bathroom was full of props that wouldn’t let her forget. Crushing the little cup in her hand, she let her eyes roam over the electric shaver and aftershave on the corner of the vanity. Daniel had always been clean-shaven. His scent from it had been one she’d enjoyed, some kind of smoky wood, or so her senses had guessed. She couldn’t really imagine his things now. She’d obviously been paying very little attention all along.
It would have been the first time she’d lived with someone since moving out of her aunt and uncle’s house. She continued staring at the manly articles spread around the bathroom. Well, she was still living with someone. Just not the someone she had planned for.
She should have learned. Plans never worked out. As soon as the world realized she had one, it would flip things. That was just how life worked. Any control she thought she had was an illusion. Just as it had always been for her father.
Her mother had never pretended to be in control.
Celia tossed the smooshed cup into the trash and left the bathroom. No part of her wanted to return to the vomit of color waiting for her in the guest room. She turned to the living room instead. At least it wasn’t full of white furniture. She couldn’t remember what color the couch was, but it was something dark with a soft-looking material that would allow a person to sink into the cushions. Next to the couch was a black recliner that also begged for a person to kick back and nap.
Celia avoided it all, clicking open the lock to the sliding glass door that led to the porch. She slid it open, a warm breeze drifting across her arms as she stared out into the night beyond. It was still raining, the patter of it soothing. She closed her eyes, the smell drifting into her lungs, one she’d always liked.
A wicker porch chair was next to the glass. Celia sat in it, deciding it was far enough from the balcony railing to pretend the ground wasn’t so far below. As long as she couldn’t see it she’d be fine. Her fear of heights was ridiculous. Yes, she’d fallen down some steps, but it hadn’t been multiple flights.
Pulling up her legs, she stared out above the railing, taking in the clouds that were shaded more of a silvery-white than gray, the lighter color the result of the moon peering out from behind them.
Her eyes and cheeks remained dry. Celia had never been a crier. Crying changed nothing.
The creak of a floorboard gave Trenton away. He didn’t say anything. Instead of coming onto the porch, he sat just inside the sliding glass door, his long legs stretching out and entering her peripheral sight. “Couldn’t sleep?”
She shook her head, not seeing a need to fill the silence with the obvious.
He didn’t rush to talk more either. The rain continued, pinging against the railing as it soaked into the concrete at the edge of the balcony.
“I admire you,” Trenton said.
Celia closed her eyes against the lie. He didn’t even know her.
“I get the feeling your life fell apart today. That happened to me once. It was something I knew was coming, but I still wasn’t prepared.” He paused, and she listened to him sigh. “Malcolm was there for me. Pulled me out of it the best he could.”
She laid her cheek on top of her knees. From that angle she saw more of his long legs, though his torso and above were in shadow through the door. “Malcolm is good at being there.”
“He is. The best.”
Celia thought of her cousin. He’d always been there for her, waiting to prop her up again. She wished she didn’t need it. Somehow, it felt so hard to admit to him what a mistake she’d made, how dangerously blind she’d been in her rush for normalcy.
“You’re so strong. Despite everything upending on you, you’re still keeping it together.” Trenton leaned forward, and the dimmed moonlight somehow made his smile seem even gentler. “That’s why I admire you.”
She was already shaking her head. “You’re wrong.”
His eyes never left hers. “About keeping it together? Even if you’re not, that’s all right. You’re moving forward, even if it might be at a crawl. That’s more than I did.”
Not keeping a tight wrap on her emotions was dangerous, but it hadn’t been that hard. Not until the dream. Which made it all worse. “I’m not falling apart over my fiancé because it turns out I really didn’t care about him at all.” Her lips twisted up in a bitter smile. “Isn’t that sad?”
Trenton shook his head. “I’d say it’s for the best. He likely wasn’t worth it. I doubt he was innocent in what happened today. Am I wrong?”
She looked away from him, staring out at the night again. “You’re not wrong.” She remembered Daniel’s voice as he tried to tell her he had needs. He’d meant physical ones, but she hadn’t been there emotionally either. It wasn’t a surprise he’d turned to someone else. Maybe that was why she held no anger. “Does it really matter if I didn’t love him, anyway?”
“Of course it does.”
The rough tone surprised her. When she turned to him, he looked furious on her behalf.
“Celia, the bastard let you move here with nowhere else to go, just so he could break it off with you. He had no intention of ever supporting you.”
“I don’t need a man to support me.”
“Of course not, but that doesn’t make his actions right. Basic human decency should have made him break things off before it came to that.” Trenton took a breath. It was his turn to look out at the night. “For once, I agree with Malcolm. Your fiancé deserves a punch to the face.”
