Page 35 of Here in My Heart (Here Together #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

The rotation of the washer threw another sock at the drum, its wrung out, distended shape ready for another trip around the steel cylinder.

Sylvie sympathized with the sopping wet cotton.

She’d traveled another rotation of optimism and panic since breakfast, doubting that anything she wanted would ever come to pass.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Colette asked, her arms full of napkins and tablecloths.

“They’re not worth that much.” Sylvie moved along to make space for her neighbor. “Have you abandoned your post at the café?”

“Just for a while. We’ve run short of linen, so here I am.” Colette cocked her head. “You don’t seem your usual self.”

“No.”

Colette raised her eyebrows. “If I was a betting woman I’d guess it’s trouble of the heart?”

Sylvie couldn’t deny her heart was troubled, but the pain and panic was so much more complex. “You’re not wrong.”

“Girlfriend?”

“That’s a strong word.”

“Is it?” Colette asked.

To Sylvie it was. Maybe not for others. “It’s not just her.

I’m drifting along with a lack of purpose.

I’m thirty-six years old, I’ve got two days to make another book deadline that I’m probably going to miss, I have a thigh-high stack of marking to do, and I’ve no food in for dinner. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

Colette bumped against her. “I’m going to circle back to the girlfriend. How’s it going? ”

“I’m in too deep. I’m doubting myself more than ever, but I can’t stop. Sorry, I’m waffling on.”

“It sounds pretty typical,” Colette said.

“Of what?”

“Falling in love, silly.” Colette laughed her innocent, casual laugh.

Sylvia juggled the grenade of truth that threw in her lap. “I’m not in love.” It sounded like a lie, even to her.

“You can’t stop thinking about someone, even though you’re a rational and responsible adult with duties and deadlines. You can’t even buy food. You look tired and ragged. They call it lovesick for a reason, you know.”

Sylvie scanned her untidy appearance. Of course she’d thrown on some old joggers and a T-shirt for a visit to the launderette. That didn’t make her a lovesick puppy.

“I’ve watched you guys, you know?”

Sylvie pursed her lips. “Now you sound creepy.”

“I see how you look at your not-girlfriend.” Colette stretched her legs across the linoleum. “You don’t see anyone else when she’s in the room. The city could be on fire, and your only concern would be making sure she was safe.”

Sylvie’s jaw dropped. Had her feelings been there for everyone to see, or did Colette have some kind of magical ability?

“I like her,” Colette said. “She sees you too.”

“She does?”

“She reads your lips, she mirrors your movements. It’s like you’re her whole world.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I suck up the vibe at the café. I know when people need something and when they should be left alone. It’s a talent, being able to read the room.”

Unsettled by Colette’s revelation, Sylvie loaded a dryer and made her excuses to get some air. When her cell rang, she almost ignored it, wishing away the interruption. But Ade’s name across her blank screen made her heart leap. “Hi. ”

“I wanted to see you,” Ade said. “Can you come over to the marine center?”

“I’m in the middle of some chores.” Sylvie looked to the sky for an answer. “And I’m meant to be working on my book this afternoon.”

“I don’t want to disturb you, but…” Ade said, “I’ve been thinking. You’ll be away in England soon for Elda’s exhibition and then I’ll be away with Steph for our birthday.”

“I know that.” Sylvie had dreaded the time apart too…until they’d argued.

“Maybe bring your edits with you. I have jobs to do, and we can work down here together. It’s quiet, and I won’t disturb you, I promise. I just need to see your face.”

Sylvie swallowed back the trepidation she’d been feeding all day. “Okay. I’ll see you soon.”

The last time they’d spoken, Sylvie had worried she’d said too much, been too abrupt. But Ade’s invitation seemed like an attempt to wipe the slate clean, and with no real reason to delay, Sylvie headed for the marine center as soon as she’d dropped her laundry back at her apartment.

She swiped her entry pass at the front of the building, and Ade was already there, waiting to meet her in the foyer. Their eyes met through the rotating doors, and Sylvie’s whole body responded, a thrill coursing through her veins.

“Close your eyes,” Ade said and gave her a cheeky smile.

“What are you up to?” Sylvie asked.

Ade took Sylvie’s hand. “Come with me.”

She’d missed the warm softness of Ade’s palm against hers, and she allowed herself to be led through the center’s corridors to its main labs.

“Here we are.” Ade stopped and held both Sylvie’s hands. “Don’t open your eyes yet. Just listen.”

Sylvie focused on what she could hear: a gentle lap of water and the deep moan of something animal.

“Feel better yet?” Ade asked .

Sylvie hummed her response in tune with the calm, restful melody of the marine life around her.

“Okay, you can open your eyes. Come, sit.” Ade led her to a desk station, adorned with blankets and cushions, where there was a flask full of coffee and homemade cookies. “You could work here for the afternoon, while I get the rest of my jobs done.”

“You did all this?”

“Sure.” Ade rested her hands on Sylvie’s shoulders and gently eased her into a seated position. She removed her jacket and began to massage Sylvie’s shoulders.

Sylvie leaned into the touch, enjoying the firm roll of her muscles under Ade’s fingers. “I won’t get much work done this way.”

“I know, but it would be good to relax.”

“Relaxing is one word for it.” Sylvie bit her lip, the sensation in her shoulders traveling all the way to her core.

“Hey,” Ade said, swiveling the chair around so that she faced Sylvie.

“I fucked up this week. I embarrassed you, and that’s not okay.

I’m trying to signal here that I will do just about anything to put that right.

And that means creating an environment where you can relax, get some work done, and we can enjoy each other’s company. ”

“It beats working at my kitchen table, which is what I had planned.” Sylvie smiled, grateful for the simple gesture. “You know, you’re like a different person when you’re here.”

“What do you mean?” Ade frowned. “I’m the same person I always am.”

“Not like that. You have a calm, which is kind of catching. I feel more relaxed already.” Sylvie put her head against Ade’s stomach. “I’m really worried about this work stuff.”

“I know you are. What can I do to help?”

“Just this,” said Sylvie. “Giving me time and space to focus on it. I’ve been distracted lately.”

“Because of me?” Ade asked.

“Not at all. I’m a grown-up. I should be able to sort my schedule and meet my own deadlines.”

“What’s getting in your way?”

“Me.” Sylvie sighed. “I’m my own worst enemy sometimes. All I can think is that the next book won’t be good enough. That the publishers will drop me. That Paul will fire me.”

“What evidence do you have that the book won’t be good enough? Has your editor said something already?”

“God, no. She’s pretty content with what she’s seen so far.” Sylvie stroked Ade’s palm. “It’s all in my head.”

“This head here?” Ade tapped lightly on her scalp. “This beautiful head is full of thoughts that aren’t true?”

Sylvie nodded.

“How about I fill them with things that are true?”

“Like what?”

“You’re one of the most intelligent, thought-provoking people I’ve ever met. You’re open and honest in a way most people aren’t. You’re kind and see the best in people, even when that’s hard. You see the flaws in society and want to make it better.”

“Stop it.” Sylvie dropped her gaze, unable to meet the glare of Ade’s compliments.

“You can’t take it?” Ade tipped Sylvie’s chin up.

“No one has ever spoken to me like that.”

“Never? No one has ever told you how utterly brilliant you are?” Ade shook her head.

“I want to tell you those things every single day. I want to tell you that you light up the room, that your students hang on your every word, and that people in cafés look your way whenever you glide past them. You have an aura that I’ve never known anyone else to have. ”

If Sylvie had an aura, she’d found her match. Not brave enough to say the words aloud, she pulled Ade closer and snuggled into her abdomen. “I don’t deserve all of that.”

“Why not?”

“I was pretty horrible to you on Friday.”

“I let you down. We both know that,” Ade said. “But I want to be better. I think I know what went wrong with Madison, and it won’t happen again.”

Sylvie pushed up from the chair and pressed her lips to Ade’s, hoping to silence her self-doubt. They kissed, a longing, loving exchange that meant more than she could describe with the language she had.

Sylvie wished she could articulate the enormity of her feelings for Ade, but she grappled with the scale of something so personal yet so universal. How could she pretend to write about the human existence when she couldn’t understand her own basic emotions?