She took one last look at the bed and left the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. In the living room, she found a note on the table.
Gone to the hospital, be back soon.
Outside, cars finally moved through the slosh of gray dirt and snow. The pristine white had disappeared, leaving behind a world dark and dank. “Good,” she said, “maybe I can get back to my own life now.” She just wanted to put all of this behind her. The pink apartment, the teasing, the way Mark looked at her, and how he held her in his arms. That was a lie. Rebecca. She’d do anything to put Rebecca out of her mind.
Stop! There had to be something else to think about. Picking up the book she’d discarded the day before, she put it back on the bookshelf. Her glance fell to a picture of Mark standing next to a beautiful Latina woman, his arm over her shoulders. They’d been laughing, and Mark leaned toward her as if to kiss her.
Aching and anger burned in her throat.
The tumbler turned on the front door. Mark said, “Hey, you’re up.” He locked the door and Jennifer turned away from the bookshelf. “How are you feeling?”
Sad, confused, frustrated. “Fine.” She gritted her teeth as she sat on the couch. “Thank you for everything. I appreciate your letting me stay with you.”
He sat on the couch. “You know, the snow isn’t completely gone just yet. We still have time together. Not to mention after it’s all gone.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were incredible last night. Incredible in a way I haven’t known in a long time. You are an amazing lover.”
Jennifer swallowed. Lover. She hated that word. It was the word men gave women they didn’t want for anything more than sex.
He put his arm around her and stroked his fingers through her hair. “You’re awfully quiet, is something on your mind?”
“No,” she lied. “I guess I’m still not feeling that well.” She moved away from his hand.
A knock reverberated through the silence. A muffled voice called through the door, “It’s Mr. Shlobansky, is anyone in there?”
Jennifer jumped off the couch at the sound. She looked back at Mark and said, “I’ll let him in.” Throwing open the door she said, “Mr. Shlobansky, I’m locked out of my apartment and the power’s been out.”
“The power should be back on within the half hour,” the portly man replied. “I can help you back into your apartment. Let me check on everyone else, and I’ll be back.”
“Oh, thank you so much.”
She stood in the doorway a few moments after the man left.
Mark felt a sinking hole grow in the pit of his stomach. Her bizarre behavior puzzled him. She’d been wonderful up to this point. Now it seemed she couldn’t get away from him fast enough.
As she closed the door and turned back to him, he had to ask, “Jennifer, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she answered quickly. Too quickly. “I just really want to get back to my life. I miss my bed, I don’t want to keep imposing on you, I just want things to be back to normal, and I still don’t feel so well. I’m babbling. See? I must be tired.”
He shook his head and said, “No, I think there’s something else going on. Come sit down so we can talk.”
“I have to get my clothes.” She backed toward the bedroom. “Mr. Shlobansky’s going to be back any minute.”
Still confused, he tried again. “You’re not imposing.” She pushed open the bedroom door. He tried again, “I really would like for you to stay.”
He wished her change in mood didn’t matter, but it did. Last night mattered. He couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened. Pretend that her kisses, her soft skin and the way she moaned his name had never happened. That their time together hadn’t changed him in some way.
There was another knock on the door. “Are you ready, lady?”
Jennifer came back into the room, then looked from the door to Mark. “I’m sorry, I really have to go. Thank you so much for everything. Can I borrow your clothes until later? I promise to get them back to you.” She paused before opening the door.
Looking over her shoulder, her eyes seemed to search him for something.
He wished he knew what. “Of course.” The door closed. Let her go, you didn’t know her that well anyway.
God, if that were only true. He wanted to run after her, stop her somehow. Tell her whatever it was she needed to hear. Instead he tried to banish her to the back of his mind. Quietly he locked the door. Hesitating for a moment, he pressed his ear against it to see if he could hear her voice. Nothing. He reached to put the chain in place. As he did, the lights flickered on. “Let’s go eat, Sophie,” he said.