Page 58 of Lessons in Forgiving
CHAPTER 24
NOW
Mr. and Mrs. Pressley, we’ve been waiting for you.”
The sentence was so wrong, I didn’t know why it felt so right.
Henry didn’t correct the suited receptionist checking us in, so neither did I. “Your room’s on the sixteenth floor, and your bags will be waiting for you.” He handed us the key cards with a smile. “The minibar is complimentary, and there’ll always be someone at reception should you need anything. Enjoy your stay!”
When we made our way through the marbled lobby and waited for the elevator, something struck me as odd.
“Did he just sayroom?” I asked, dumbfounded. “As in,oneroom? A single room?”
Alarm struck Henry’s features when his head shot in my direction. He shook it quickly. “A twin then, surely.”
Not a twin. His confidence had been immensely misplaced.
From the foot of it, we stared down that king-sized bed like it might split in half if we’d kept it up for long enough.
“Well.” I blinked once, twice. “At least it’s beautiful.”
I think Henry might’ve winced, but I couldn’t be sure because my eyes were still glued to the double bed, and I couldn’t help the thought of both of us in it. Henry cleared his throat.
“You take it,” he offered hastily, already moving to grab his suitcase by the door.
“And let you sleep on the floor?” I shook my head, following him across the room. “No way!”
He’s the only reason I was here in the first place—the only reason I was in a room like this one. With high ceilings and longwindows that reached the floor, and with a view of New York City people dreamed of waking up to. A bathroom so big my entire room would fit in it, and a bed that could hold four of me.
Right. The bed.
“Imagine the aches you’d wake up with on the floor. Your body’s worth millions—” I cringed. “That could’ve been worded better,” I admitted. “But it’s true.”
His lips, previously in a tight line, tipped up. His face, previously hard as stone, deep in thought, relaxed.
“Why thank you, Paula,” he said smoothly. “I didn’t know it was still worth that much to you.” He looked himself down once, gave a stern nod. “I appreciate it.”
“I didn’t sayto me!” I protested.
“It was insinuated, no?”
“No.”
Henry pouted, amusement peeking through the cracks, knowing he was at least halfway to the truth. He circled back to the actual conversation. “Not the floor, though,” he corrected, slipping back into our argument. “I’ll book another room. You get comfortable here, and I’ll come grab my bag once I’ve talked to reception.”
I would’ve liked to argue that: 1)Ishould be the one booking another room—preferably in a different hotel, because this wouldn’t just break the bank, it would blow it into tiny pieces, never to be found again. And 2) he shouldn’t have to drop an extra five hundred dollars a night because of the inconvenience I was. Even if he could afford it.
Henry was out the door before I’d managed to voice any of my concerns.
With a loud groan, I let myself fall into the sheets, legs dangling off the foot of the bed.Great. The mattress felt heavenly, adjusting to the fit and weight of my body like it was made specifically for me.
As soon as I’d made contact, I knew my own mattress would never compare, and I’d probably never sleep well on it again.
Despite the fact I never wanted to get up, I did.
I forced myself to take my shoes off, brushed my teeth and finally wiggled out of my pants to jump under the sheets in my hoodie. Just when I was getting comfortable, the door beeped, and Henry was back.
“That doesn’t look good,” I commented as soon as he trotted into the room, annoyance bunching up his brow. “What is it?”
