Grabbing my bags from the trunk, I stand in awe of this tower. I don’t even think it would be considered an apartment building. It has to be condos. I can’t possibly live here.
A cool breeze billows up my jacket and reminds me it’s the middle of winter, and Christmas is in a few weeks.
I guess I have no choice.
Approaching the front door, I’m startled when a man opens it for me. “Evening, Miss Williams.” I stop mid-step as my name leaves his mouth.
“How do you know my name?” Did I somehow wind up in 50 Shades or something?
“Mr. Rowe has asked me to help you get settled.” He waves his arm out in front of him for me to precede him.
“Mr. Rowe?” It takes a minute before it clicks. “You mean Desmond?” He nods. Kitsap—of course, it was Des. “He did all this?” Why would he do this? What else did he do? Crap.
“Yes, ma’am. If you’d please…” His arm directs me again.
Doing as I’m asked, I follow the bellman—Is that what they’re called?—to the elevator where he uses a key to turn it on. As it ascends, he hands me another one with instructions on how I only need to use it to go up but not down.
We stop on the fifth floor, and he does the arm wave for a third time. He halts in front of door 535 and says, “This is you, Miss Williams,” and hands me the apartment key and an envelope. “Make yourself at home. The fridge and pantries are stocked. Phone and cable are hooked up; there are no passwords on the computer.” He’s gone before I can ask anything else.
“Here goes nothing,” I mutter, unlocking the door.
The apartment is spacious with an open floor plan. I can see into the modern living room and down the hall from the door. The kitchen is only cut off by a breakfast bar with four stools. Large windows showcase the city in all its winter glory. Snow is falling so that it looks like I’m in one of those snow globes where you shake it and white dust falls around.
Crossing the threshold, I leave my suitcase by the door and take off my coat, hanging it on the coat tree beside it. Remembering the envelope I was handed, I open it as I meander into the kitchen, opening and closing cupboards as I unfold the paper.
North,
I know what you’re likely going to start thinking in a minute or two, and I want you to cut that shit out. Now! You were handed a raw deal without due cause, and this is my way of righting it. Even if it wasn’t my wrong. After reading your last letter, I couldn’t sit by and do nothing. I hope you can understand that.
You’re special, North, and it pisses me off that your father doesn’t recognize it. I intend to make up for it. I like you, baby, a lot. My home is now your home. Explore, look around. Nothing is off limits to you.
I imagine this must be sudden for you; it is for me, too. I’m hoping to be home in time for Christmas. We can talk more then, though I’d love for you to still write to me.
While I’ll be happy if you’re there when I come home, I’ll understand if you’re not.
Yours,
Des
P.S. You have beautiful eyes. I can see right into the heart of you.
Fucking tears.
Fucking Desmond.
Why’s he gotta be so kind? Sweet. Affectionate. He doesn’t know me, dammit! Reaching for my suitcase, I’m tempted to leave. I should leave.
But where would I go?
I can’t go back to the rehab center.
I can’t go home.
Looking around me, I really see the apartment for what it is.
A safe haven.
Desmond gave me something I never thought I’d have again.