A Happy Marriage?

Chapter 4: Home?

It took him a few minutes to fathom what he got himself into. Standing outside Greene Way Heights, Daryl gulps at the sight of the tall skyscraper. More importantly that his home is at the top of the entire building. He doesn't mind heights, but this seems a little scary. Walking into the lobby, he heads to the front desk and finds a woman sitting with her face in a book.

"Hcchmm...excuse, I'm looking for Beth Greene's apartment?"

"You must be Mr. Greene. I'm Tara, floor manager of Greene Way Heights. Welcome!" The woman stands up and shakes Daryl's hand, a little too excitedly. "Here is your key card. Just push it into the slot in the elevator and it will take you all the way up."

Looking down at the card, he wishes he could just go back to his old life. His old apartment was only two stories and he didn't mind the splinters- at least he couldn't die if he fell out the window.

"The elevators are just over there. If you need anything, my info is on the card. I'm at your disposal Mr. Greene." Daryl nods in her direction and heads to the elevators.

Mr. Greene huh? So I took her name, but she doesn't want anyone to know we're married? That makes no sense. A bit egotistical if you ask me.

Stepping into the elevator, Daryl inserts his key card into the slot and the doors close automatically. The capsule seems to speed through the canal as if it is limited on time. Clinging to the wall, Daryl cringed at the thought of the Willy Wonka Elevator where it flies through the glass ceiling. When it finally stops- rather smoothly- the doors open to a small hallway that leads to double doors. Walking down the hallway, his boots click on the tiled floor and he feels so nervous. Knocking on the door, he feels ridiculous, but as he's about to open the door with his card, Beth swings the door open and seems surprised that it's only Daryl.

"Why didn't you use your card? I'm about to burn my pot pies I have in the oven. Quick! Get in here!" She pulls him in and slams the door before rushing off to the kitchen. Standing in the opening to the flat, Daryl stands in aw at the sight of all of Atlanta out before them. The high windows expose the whole scenery and the gorgeous sunset. The colors shimmer across the white marbled floor. A grand piano sits in the corner, catching the last few rays of the sun, playing its own melody of beauty. "You can come in!"

She yells from the kitchen, knowing that he is still standing in the entry way, but doesn't know how with the stone wall between them. Taking his boots off by the door, he feels self conscious about wearing shoes in someone else's fancy house, but feels more awkward that his socks doesn't match and the one exposes his big toe. Slowly walking into the kitchen, he now understands how she knew he didn't move. There is a flat screen above the stove that has several video pictures of different places throughout the penthouse, including the hallway leading to the elevator.

"The only places that are not recorded are the bedrooms, bathrooms, and my study. Everything else has a security camera in it." She pulls the hot pies out of the oven and the aroma takes Daryl by surprise.

That smells amazing. Wait...how did she have time to cook them if she was running about?

"Paranoid much?" He jokes and leans against the island counter.

"When you live alone, you like to be cautious of what's going on in your home." Taking off the oven mitts, she places them on a "Mitt Rack"- kinda like a coat rack but for mittens- and pulls out two plates. "Hungry?"

"Starv...I'm good actually." He doesn't want to seem too needy or intrusive. Who's says she even made one for him. She probably expected him to have already eaten. She obviously was expecting him to arrive later.

"If you're hungry you can eat. I made you one." She snappily says and accidentally grabs the edge of the pan instead of the pie slicer. "Ouch! Fuck that's hot!"