Page 82 of Staying for You

I don’t know how long I want to stay.

I wasn’t going to be home to Tennessee for another week and part of me wants to go, to figure out all this stuff with Scott, but a bigger part of me feels like if I go back early, that I’ll be admitting defeat.

“I don’t know,” I admit.

“Um, well, I guess if you want, I can just put you in for two nights then you can decide?”

Two nights. That means I don’t have to worry about an early check-out time or being interrupted. That means I can sleep in as long as I want.

“Sounds good.”

She nods, types away, scans my credit card and my ID, and then slides over a keycard and begins pointing around the hotel.

“Continental breakfast from 6 a.m. – 9 a.m. The rest of the day, snacks and non-alcoholic beverages are offered until 11 p.m. You’re in room 316. Elevators are behind you. You’ll find a list of amenities here.” She flips over my keycard envelope and points out the listing. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call down. Someone is always manning the desk.”

“Thank you,” I look at her name tag and gulp, “Olivia.” For goodness sakes.

“You’re welcome, Camilla. Enjoy your stay with us.”

I nod and make my way to the elevator, hit the up button then step inside once the doors open. I press the three and wait while the elevator ascends the short trip up to my floor.

Stepping out of the elevator, I turn in the direction toward my room, take a deep breath when I get to my door, slide my key in and wait for the lock to light up green. It beeps and I turn the handle, step inside, toss my things on the chair in the corner, sit down on the edge of the mattress… and cry.

* * *

I sleptall night and miss breakfast the next morning. Somehow peacefully even though I didn’t have my own change of sheets for the bed. That doesn’t mean I didn’t inspect it thoroughly before I slid under the covers.

It’s 11 a.m. and I’m irritated because Owen’s stupid breakfasts have ruined me for life. My stomach is now used to his offerings. Which reminds me of other things he offered me that I’m missing already.

Before bed sex.

Middle of the night sex.

Early morning sex.

Mid-day-I-need-a-writing-break-sex.

Suddenly I’m part nymphomaniac and I’m jonesing for my fix.

“Jerk,” I grumble to the ceiling, kicking off the covers.

I remove my phone from the charger on the nightstand and power it up. Three missed calls. Five texts. Seven Facebook messages. One Instagram message request.

Nothing I’m not used to.

Ignoring the phone, I go to the bathroom and do my business, wash my hands and brush my teeth because I didn’t do it last night and that’s just nasty.

Last night when I got in, I didn’t take the time to look around the room. It’s actually incredibly nice. Not that I’m complaining about the cabin, but this is luxury compared to what I’m used to the last five weeks. Just thinking that makes me feel guilty then I remember the way Owen treated me before I left and all guilt flies out the window.

The room is more like a suite. A sitting area is separate from the bedroom. The bathroom is enormous, including a large jet tub to soak in. And that’s exactly what I think I’ll do. Despite the hunger in my stomach, I fill the tub with hot water and toss in some of the bath salts that are offered from the hotel and remove my clothes that I slept in last night. I slip into the spacious tub, the hot water soothing my muscles instantly and press the button for the jets.

I relax in the tub until my fingers prune and the water turns cool, head resting on a rolled-up towel on the back of the tub. My thoughts roam over the past decade of my life.

From the decisions I made and experiences I’ve been blessed with.

My life hasn’t been all bad, even though the recent months that’s all I’ve dwelled on. The cheating husband and crappy books and horrible reviews. What I forgot about was the fact that I have beautiful nieces and nephews. My mother is healthy and happy and thriving as a nana and head nurse of the surgery department. Two of my brothers are married and one is engaged to be married in the winter. I have readers and followers who haven’t deserted me even though I don’t always publish best sellers and friends who will support me and back me no matter what. I’ve traveled all over the United States and was able to take a girls’ trip to Mexico a few years ago. By all accounts, I’m fortunate. I have money. A home — even if my ex can’t seem to stay out of it — a nice car, and I’m healthy.

And even though it failed miserably, I was able to experience a love that I never expected. A love I didn’t see coming but am so glad it did. No matter how it ended, it happened. There was a slow beginning and a wonderful middle and the end, it was awful, but I survived it.

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