Page 2 of The Hotel Room

“I gotta run.” He kissed her again, this time slower, his hand brushing her waist. The kind of kiss that lingered. Then, without another word, he grabbed his keys from the counter and strode out of the kitchen.

The front door shut behind him with a quiet click, and the house seemed to exhale with his absence. For a moment, there was peace.

Noah shoved back his stool, shouldering his backpack with a loud clunk. “Can I get a ride? My bike got a flat yesterday.”

Kate blinked. “When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Last night. I thought you saw it. Sorry. Please?”

Lily piped up. “Can I get a ride too?”

Kate stared at the clock. No time to shower. No time to change. She tugged her coat off the hook, swapping it for her robe and shrugging it over her pajamas. She hoped the neighbors wouldn’t notice.

“Everyone, grab your stuff. Out the door in two minutes.”

The drive was a familiar routine. Noah had earbuds in, music leaking faintly as he scrolled his phone, while Lily launched into a breathless recap of who got picked last in dodgeball yesterday and how unfair it was. Kate nodded in the right places, glancing toward the rearview mirror.

Noah was out first with a mumbled, “Thanks, Mom,” the car door shutting with a loud thud behind him.

Lily lingered longer at the middle school drop off, adjusting the strap of her lunchbox.

“Are you picking me up after choir today?”

Kate nodded, offering a smile she hoped felt as steady as it should. “Of course. Text me if you get out early.”

By the time she returned home, the house was silent, save for the ticking clock. The coffee had gone lukewarm. The cereal bowls sat abandoned in the sink. The echoes of the morning chaos lingered like a presence—empty, but not quite lonely.

She rinsed the bowls, wiping the counter out of habit more than necessity. The laundry basket waited upstairs, half-folded.James’s shirts still needed pressing. Groceries for the week hadn’t been planned yet.

Her gaze drifted toward the corner of the kitchen, where one of Lily’s in-progress school projects sat—a shoebox diorama, painted in wild streaks of purple and green. Kate had helped with the tiny paper trees, the glitter glue trails that Lily insisted weremagical vines.

Her fingers brushed the edge of the box, the dried paint rough beneath her fingertips. It stirred something—faint but familiar. Once, before the kids, before James’s long hours and the routines that felt so automatic now,paintinghad been her thing too.

The house was warm, the kids were safe, James kissed her goodbye like he always had. And yet—there was an ache beneath it. A quiet hum she couldn’t name, somewhere between contentment and…what? But she felt it anyway. That hollow note.

Kate shook it off. Life didn’t slow down. There were things to do.

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Kate stood in front of the stove, reheating the creamy risotto while the scent of garlic and rosemary drifted through the kitchen. The kids had eaten hours ago and were now settled—Noah in his room with music leaking under the door, Lily tucked in with a book after their usual back-and-forth negotiation about bedtime. James’s hours were long, but he’d be home soon.

She heard the familiar sound of James’s car pulling into the driveway, the low rumble of the engine cutting off as headlights flashed against the window.

Kate turned the burner to low, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel as the front door opened. James stepped inside, his tie loosened just enough to look undone but not disheveled. His eyes met hers across the room, weary but warm.

“Hey, babe.” His voice was low, a little rough around the edges.

“Hey.” She closed the distance between them, pressing her palm to his chest as he leaned down to kiss her. His lips were warm, lingering, the kind of kiss that made her head tip back slightly and her fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt.

“Missed you today,” he murmured against her mouth.

Kate smiled, her body already softening under his touch. “Missed you too. Dinner’s almost ready. How was work?”

James let out a breath, his forehead resting briefly against hers. “Long. So many meetings, I lost track of the point halfway through. But…I’m here now.” His hand drifted to her waist, fingers curling in a way that made her heart stutter.

She brushed her thumb over his cheek, feeling the roughness of his stubble. “You want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No. I want this.” His lips brushed hers again, slower this time, more deliberate.

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