Jezebel |h.s|

Forty Four

Harry

I should get Ottilie a bigger bed. Maybe a twin size, or even a full size one. Then again, she's three and probably can't get in and out of a regular size bed. Maybe there's a reason three years olds need toddler beds.

Getting Ottie a full size bed would be for selfish reasons anyways. Toddler beds are the right size for toddlers. They weren't built to support fully grown men avoiding their estranged wives.

Adriana has slept in my bed every night since we slept together. I think she's under the assumption that it'll be easier to end up accidentally sleeping together again. That will never happen again, that's for sure. And I'm not even giving her a reason to try.

Between sleeping with Ottie in her toddler bed or crashing on the couch, my back is in dire need of saving. That's what I get for buying a five bedroom penthouse and turning two rooms into an office and a gym. I would go to sleep in the other room, but Melissa is sleeping over as well. Her house had a flood and I obviously wasn't going to turn her away. She's been working so much overtime now that Adriana came back, letting her stay while her house is under repair was the least I can do.

Slowly, I get out of Ottie's bed. She's a pretty heavy sleeper, plus I've mastered getting out of her bed at this point. She doesn't even move an inch, sound asleep as I leave the room.

Across the hall in my room, I hear the shower running. My eyes roll, but knowing that Adriana isn't in the room gives me an excuse to sneak in and get some things from my closet. I can't wait until she's gone again, then I'll get my bed back. I paid a lot of money for that bed and now I'm not even the one using it.

I grab a few suits and ties and pajamas and head over to my office without running into Adriana. My office has turned into my makeshift bedroom for now, minus the bed. It's been weird feeling like a stranger in my own home, but I can't find myself being comfortable while Adriana is here.

Once my suits are hung up in the closet and everything is in order for the upcoming week, I sit behind my desk to get some work done. Before this mess, my Saturday nights would be spent at our apartment or in a nice restaurant. Now it's just full of work.

My heart aches at the fleeting thought of Cornelia Street. I went back the day after I got the keys only to be met with a half empty apartment. Her drawers were cleared out, her books and little trinkets gone. All that was left of her were some decorations that were too big for her to take out herself, and the mug I painted for her. It sat right on the counter where she knew I would see it. At least it wasn't shattered into pieces on the floor.

It was supposed to be our place. Our beautiful getaway, hidden from the world. A place where we could just be ourselves. The place I met the real Isabella. The place I fell in love with her.

I didn't have the heart to pack up my things. I can't even fathom having to give up the lease.

With a deep sigh, I try my best to focus on work. There's not much to do these days since I'm so on top of everything. My inbox has been really empty lately.

I hide away in my office for a few more hours, only getting up to go to sleep when I notice it's nearly two in the morning. Honestly, I don't feel tired, but I need to at least try to sleep. Even if it's only for a couple hours.

Thankfully the couch is really comfortable to sleep on. It's not perfect, and it sure as hell isn't as comfortable as my bed, but it is better than the floor. Or Ottie's bed.

Pulling the blanket over my body, I close my eyes to start trying to sleep. Counting sheep never worked for me, but I make the attempt to get sleepy. But without fail, my mind wanders to Isabella. What I would give to sleep beside her again.