Café Rouge

Chapter 8: Sleeping arrangements

Chapter 8

 

That night, Lola's drifting off to sleep when she feels the bed dip. The blankets that are usually tucked underneath her, for a moment are raised and shifted. Lola's body stiffens as she forces herself to keep her breathing normal.  What is he doing?! She'd stupidly thought that last night would be an exception. She swears to God, if he starts snuggling with her, she's kicking him in the balls-no matter the consequences. He does not get to act hot and cold with her-confusing her with his flittering humanity.

She waits for a few minutes, listening to his deep breath, waiting impatiently for his body heat to grow closer...only it never does. In fact, the sheets seem to almost stretch in a way that suggests him facing away from her. Daring to risk a peak, Lola inches her body towards him, her back leaning back as she tips her head back. In the dark of the night, she can only just about make-out his thick form, tilted to the opposite side away from her just as she'd predicted.

For the first half an hour, she's frozen stiff, still unable to relax but slowly as exhaustion sweeps through her, Lola finds herself giving in and letting go.

The next morning Lola finds herself spreads across the expanse of the bed but then again...she is the only one on it. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she gazes around, her palms smoothing the crinkles of the cold bedsheet as she searches for any clue that Carlos had been in her room again last night. But apart from her fragmented memory, there is nothing.

She shakes her head trying to remind herself that it happened. He really did come in in the night and leave without a trace in this morning. Whatever. She's too tired to fight him on this small affair. It's not like she can prove anything and there's no doubt he'll probably make his presence even more known and she dreads how he'll do that.

No, right now, perhaps it is best for her to stay quiet and allow this to slide, for the sake of their strange relationship equilibrium.

Despite it being a weekend, for the rest of the day, Lola has no idea where Carlos is or what he's up to. For a brief moment she considers what he's up to until she remembers that she doesn't care.

Although as the time nears 7pm, she does wonder if he's actually going to turn up.

Lola sips on the red wine she'd found digging through his pantry, deciding that since he's not here it's not like he can say anything about it. The wine really is delicious though and the fruitiness is perfect with the apple tart she'd decided to make. She scraps the last piece of pastry around her plate, glancing back at the pot of bean soup she'd also made earlier. Safe to say, tonight's dinner was all made on a whim.

Just when she's about to clean up, the front door opens.

His tie is crooked and looks loosened, his hair looks like he's run his fingers through it a few many times and the bags under his eyes; all point to one thing-the man's exhausted.

"Have you eaten already? What's for dinner?" he asks exhaustion seeping into his usually stiff tone.

Perhaps it's from the time spent with him, but she's starting to discover his little tells.

"Yes, here. Bean soup. There's some apple pie as well...if you want," she tells him, heating up a bowl.