Declan left the door open. It’s at the end of the hall, opposite the master. I step in and stare around, feeling a strange chill come over me.
It’s nice. Very nice. Almost professionally nice. There’s nothing personal in here, nothing warm, nothing inviting. The walls are white, and the trim is gray. The sheets are black silk. The rug is black and white. The furniture is all gray. It’s like something out of a modern minimalist Instagram influencer’s timeline.
What am I doing here?
This isn’t mine at all.
My space back home is all me. I have pictures on the walls. Photographs of friends and places I’ve visited. There are books on the shelves, clothes on the floor, little pieces of my life.
Now most of that is in boxes.
And my room… looks like this.
At least there’s an en-suite bathroom and a very nice closet.
I bring more things upstairs, but I can’t start unpacking. I feel small and cold standing around in all that black and gray. I decide to head back downstairs, and as I reach the bottom of the steps, the locks on the door begin to jiggle and snap open.
I stare in surprise. Declan’s not due home for another few hours. Maybe he decided to take off and help me get moved in. That would’ve been nice of him.
But the door opens, and an older red-haired woman stares in at me, looking almost as surprised as I am.
She’s very pretty. I’d guess mid-sixties. Her hair’s graying, but it lends her more gravity. She’s wearing a chic blouse and slacks and carrying an expensive designer bag.
Her surprise turns into a big, warm smile. “You must be Casey. I’m sorry, I can tell by your reaction that Declan didn’t mention I’d be stopping over.”
“No, I mean, hello, I’m not sure—” I stammer and try to get my bearings.
“My name’s Siobhan. I’m Declan’s mother.”
Her face suddenly clicks into focus. I can see so much of her in him. The same nose, the same cheekbones. He’s much harder and more masculine, but the resemblance is still there.
“It’s so nice to meet you.” I shake her hand. “We’ve spoken a few times over the phone, actually. I’ve heard your name a thousand times over the years.”
She laughs lightly and walks into the kitchen. I hurry to keep up. “That’s right, you’ve been his assistant. And now you’re going to be his wife. That must be a strange promotion.”
“I hadn’t really thought about it that way.”
“Good, it’s probably better if you don’t.” She helps herself to a bottle of sparkling mineral water. “I’m so happy this is finally official. It’s been so long, and I was starting to wonder if it wouldever actually happen, but you know Declan. When he says he’s doing something, he never gives up, no matter what.”
I give her an awkward laugh.
What does she mean, it’s been so long?
That’s probably just an expression. Maybe it feels like forever since Declan’s been single for a while.
But this relationship only began recently.
“He’s definitely persistent. That’s my experience, anyway.”
“How was he as a boss?” She leans in conspiratorially. “Did you have a mean nickname for him? The girl before you called him Captain Dickhead behind his back and didn’t think anyone knew.”
I snort and stifle a laugh. “Captain Dickhead? That’s a rough one.”
“I’m betting yours isn’t much better. Come on, what did you call him?”
I hesitate, but she seems so earnest and kind. I find myself opening up despite myself. “Boss Bastard.”
She laughs, clearly delighted. “I love it! Oh, I bet it drives him crazy.”