UNEDITED
Between his semi-committed addiction to smoking and his role as CEO of Elemental Coffee, Cassian Russell has spent the majority of his life running one of the most popular coffee shops on the Island with his best friend, Jake Swift. After a...
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Cassian
My eyes open with the sound of a lock clicking. I look up just in time to see Pen walking into our hotel room, rubbing her tired eyes. She's done so much rubbing there are black streaks of mascara beneath her eyes.
"Patrick's okay," she says, walking to the foot of the bed. Her purse lays there. She rifles through the contents until she finds her lip balm. After applying a thin layer, she continues. "He's probably asleep already. Poor guy, looking like the walking dead. Anyway, I'm going to wash my face."
Before I can respond, Pen trudges to the bathroom and closes the door behind her. I flop against the pillows, rubbing the heel of my hand against my forehead. Despite the exhaustion weighing on my mind, I don't think I'll be able to sleep. Although I'm worried about Patrick and Penelope and how this drama will affect them, I'm also concerned about Ophelia. She's in West Kelowna with Doug knowing where she lives. He knows what her daily schedule is like. What if he retaliates because of her involvement in uncovering the truth?
I shake my head. Pondering the worst scenarios isn't healthy. Ophelia can fend for herself. She's strong and has support from her parents. She's also smart. I'm sure she's taken precautions. Besides, who am I to judge Doug's potential actions? He's an asshole, but I doubt he'll risk being charged with assault. It would damage his pristine reputation. Ophelia is smart, too. She knows her family.
Just to be safe, I send her a text message, asking for an update.
Ophelia replies within thirty seconds, saying everything's okay. Renée calmed Doug down after we left, and then Ophelia left. She's staying with her parents tonight. She also asks me how Patrick's doing. My response is one-worded. There isn't much to share. Patrick needs a night to process everything.
After our small conversation is over, I toss my phone onto the nightstand and sit up just as Pen returns. Her face is free of mascara smudges, and her cheeks are rosy from the scorching water. She's tied her hair up into a messy bun.
"Everything okay?" Pen asks, glancing at me.
"Yeah," I reply. "I texted Ophelia and asked how things were. Everything's okay. Patrick's really the only person we have to be concerned about." I pause. "Why?"
She shrugs. "You look tired." Her cheek twitches.
"So do you," I laugh. Pen trying to use humour to combat such a long, emotional day is a breath of fresh air.
"I'm exhausted," Pen sighs, glancing between the bed and her clothes. She's wearing jeans and a cardigan. "And I hate not having pyjamas."
A thought occurs to me, and I shift into a sitting position. "You can take my T-shirt," I suggest.
Her gaze flicks down to where I'm gripping the hem. "Are you sure?"
