my bedroom, I staggered to my bed and slept like the dead. But I can’t sleep forever. Well, not yet anyway.
Once I’m dried and dressed, I brave the mirror above the basin. It’s fogged over from the steam of my scorching shower, but I don’t need to see clearly. I know what my expression holds.
Here’s hoping once I see Dr. Carter tomorrow, that expression can change.
A knock suddenly sounds on the front door. I have no idea who it is.
When I open the door, a whoosh of air leaves me. “Hi, Lola.”
I blink, unsure if she’s really here. “June?”
She nods, her lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m sorry for turning up announced. May I come in?”
“You want to come inside? My house?” My brain is currently working at half speed.
“Yes, please. If that’s okay with you?” She clenches her small hands around something, and when I finally come to, I see she’s gripping the handle of my suitcase.
“Oh, my god, yes, of course!” I shake my head, remembering my manners. “I’m so sorry. Please, come in.” I step aside, granting her permission to enter, and she doesn’t hesitate. She’s probably afraid I’ll rescind the offer.
As she wheels the suitcase behind her, I quickly shut the door and offer to take it from her. “Thank you for bringing my things. I could have sent for them. I feel awful you came all the way to Manhattan…”
“I didn’t just come here for that.”
I gulp. “Oh.”
“I know I’m being incredibly impolite, but may I trouble you for some coffee?”
Taking a closer look at her, I find her usually composed guise slightly ruffled and heavy with exhaustion. It seems we both could use that coffee.
“It’s no trouble.” Leaving my belongings in the hallway, I make my way into the kitchen.
Keeping my back turned, I busy myself gathering everything I need. I’m taking twice as long as I usually would to gather the courage to ask why she’s here. The barstool slides along the polished tiles, indicating June plans to stay a while.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you at Strawberry Fields.”
I cradle the cup I’ve just reached for out of the cupboard, in fear I’ll drop it. “It’s not your fault, and besides, things did work. It’s a truly remarkable place. I just…I needed to get away. I didn’t feel right staying there any longer.” I don’t elaborate on why.
The silence is heavy with our pensive thoughts.
“You needed to get away from Roman?”
The fine bone china cup rattles against the saucer as I place it down on the counter. “I don’t know what you know…”
“He told me everything,” she reveals, putting my speculation to bed.
“He did?” My brow furrows. “Why would he do that?” I ask, spinning around to look at her.
She suddenly looks so guilty, but I appreciate that she doesn’t break eye contact regardless of her shame. “I’m not here to make excuses for him, but there are things about him…”
“Things about him, what?” I press when she pauses, biting her top lip.
She shakes her head. “It’s not my story to tell.”
“But that’s the problem. He won’t tell me his story, well, not all of it, anyway. He told me about his…” I leave the sentence hanging, unsure if she knows.
But she does. “About his sister?” she forlornly asks, and I nod. “Poor Roman.” I’m left with my mouth hanging open as she buries her face into her cupped palms.
I have no idea what’s going on. Her relationship with Roman seems very personal, but I suppose she has a close relationship with many people, considering the circumstances banding them together.
“I went to his house. Everything is packed up. He’s leaving?”
June sniffs before removing her hands. It appears she knows more than she has let on. “Yes, he is.”
A sharp intake of breath passes through my clenched teeth. “None of this makes any sense.” I run a hand through my hair, gripping it lightly by the roots.
Steepling her fingers over her lips, she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “Remember I told you Roman wants to save the world? Well, that’s what he’s doing. You’re his world, Lola, and he’s doing this to save you.”
Her admission is bittersweet. I want to believe her, but how can I? He’s leaving. If I were that important to him, he’d tell me where he was going, and he’d say goodbye. “I understand his motives may be chivalrous, but by doing this, he’s…tearing out my heart.” She flinches, and I instantly wish I’d