The Spare To The Throne

Chapter 39: Worldly Gifts

The soft pads of footsteps pass right outside my room. I hold my breath, just to ensure the validity of my thought. Alice scurries down the hall and I turn over, now wakeful. A yellow note sits neatly folded on my night stand. Xavier. Just the thought of his name makes me apprehensive. I sit up, grabbing the note.

Good morning, mon amour. I wanted to wake you, but you looked peaceful. I won't be gone long, but if you do need me, call.

I read over the brief note again. Why'd he leave? Today's the original date of travel for his business trip with Hakeem, but I told him to stay. So why leave?

I climb out of bed and begin pacing. Surely this can't be because of what happened yesterday. Yes, I overreacted by running off, but that didn't mean he had to resort back to his original plans. My mind thinks of Willow. Practical devastation. Her anniversary is ruined and it's all my fault.

Soft knocks come at the door and I whip my head.

"Are you decent?" Alice perks from behind the door.

"Yes."

She ambles into the room, a small smile playing at her lips. "How do you feel." she clasps her hands together.

I nod, silently performing a self-examination. "My nose isn't as stuffy as it was yesterday. And I haven't sneezed or coughed yet."

Her face lights up and it's obvious she's pleased with herself. I jinx myself as I feel a sneeze building up.

"I told you my-"

My sickly sneeze cuts her short. I batter my lids compulsively. She frowns. "I'll go warm up last night's soup." she concludes, dismissing herself. I turn and make for the bathroom. The water seems even colder around this time of year. I don't mind though, despite feeling sick, I don't mind. Cold water has its way of numbing the body at times.

Beads of water roll down my face and into the sink. I should've asked Alice when Xavier will be back. But I don't care. Even if he did inform me on his whereabouts, I could care less. This is just a game. A contest of toying emotions. And just when Xavier thinks he has the upper hand, I'll break him. Leave him torn and battered. I finish up and dress myself in sweatpants and a long sweater.

"Your soup." Alice ushers me to the bowl sitting on the kitchen counter.

Edwin peeks from behind his morning paper, his nose arched high in the air. "Alice's cold smothering soup. You're sick." he confirms.

"Yeah." Is all I muster to say. The soup is hot and steamy, consisting of chicken broth, vegetables, and pasta. I bring my face close to the bowl, the steam sedates me while reversing the congestion of my nose. When I'm finally able to eat the soup without scorching myself, Edwin speaks again.

"Did sir Xavier tell where he was going today?"

Sir Xavier. Weird.

My head whirls faintly in his direction. "Are you talking to me?"

"Why of course."

I bite into my soup again. "I wouldn't know."

The question of why Xavier didn't tell anyone where he's going pries my mind. Not one person knows of his whereabouts. Not me. Not Alice. Not even Edwin. The thought makes me frustrated. He's extremely reticent about anything pertaining to him, but I on the other hand have no privacy whatsoever. Why is that? His behavior is withdrawn, especially when things don't go his way and I'm betting that's why he upped and disappeared. But resolving your issues by running away from them is childish and that's why I'm apathetic.

The room falls quiet and all that's audible is the sound of water running in the sink as Alice washes dishes.

"Well," Alice starts as she dries her hand on a nearby towel. "Farrah, I'm going to the store. Is there anything you want or need?" she questions enthusiastically.