Chapter 3 : Not Tonight
1338 Words
The penthouse was quiet when they got back.
It was always quiet.
Max went straight to his study. He always did.
Serafina changed alone in the bedroom. She unclipped her earrings one at a time and set them on the vanity. Reached back and unzipped the dark green dress. Stepped out of it and left it on the floor.
She pulled on her robe. Tied it. Looked at herself in the mirror.
Then she walked down the hall and pushed his study door open.
Max was at the window. Shirt unbuttoned three buttons down. A glass in his hand he was sipping from. Monaco spread out below him. All that light.
He did not turn around.
You went to the gallery, he said.
This morning. Yes.
And.
She is good. The gallery is real. I bought a painting.
You bought a painting.
The Ferri. The angry one.
He said nothing.
Serafina walked further into the room. Stopped behind him. Close enough. Not touching.
Honey. Come to bed.
I have calls. Work to finish.
It is past midnight.
I know what time it is.
She looked at the back of his head. Down to his shoulders. The set of them that told her the conversation was already over.
She had learned to read that years ago.
She had spent years hoping it would change.
"It has been three years," she said quietly.
He turned. Looked at her.
His face gave nothing. Nothing at all.
Fina.
"Three years Max. I am not asking for much." Her voice stayed steady. "One more try. Another child. Xander needs..."
Not tonight.
"Then when." Barely steady now. "Not tonight becomes not this week. Not this week becomes not this month. And then we are back here again in this same room having this same talk."
He said nothing.
That was worse than anything he could have said.
"Max." Her voice dropped. "Do you even see me anymore?"
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he turned back to the window.
Go to bed Fina.
She stood there for a moment.
Then she walked out and pulled the door shut quietly behind her.
Back in the bedroom she sat at the vanity.
Her own face in the mirror. Hair half down. Robe. The empty room behind her.
She looked at herself for a long time.
Then she picked up her phone.
One message. No name. Just a number saved under a restaurant booking from two years ago.
She typed three words.
Come back up.
She set the phone down. Picked up a hairpin. And began putting her hair back up. One pin at a time.
By the time the soft knock came at the door, her hair was perfect again.
Come in, she said.
Marcus stepped inside and closed the door without a sound.
She did not turn around. She watched him in the mirror. The scar along his jaw. The still eyes. The way he stood in a room like he had already decided everything before anyone else started thinking.
He was nothing like Max.
That was the point. That had always been the point.
He is still in the study, she said.
I know.
He will not come out before morning.
Marcus crossed the room slowly. He stopped behind her. His hands came to her shoulders first. Then down her arms. Slow. Like a man who had all the time in the world and knew it.
She watched his hands in the mirror.
He leaned down and his mouth found the side of her neck. Just below her ear. She closed her eyes for one second. Just one.
Marcus.
Mm.
His hands moved to the tie of her robe. Loosened it. She did not stop him.
"He suspects her," she said. Her voice perfectly steady even now.
He lifted his head. Looked at her in the mirror. I know.
He told me to keep her close.
So did I. His eyes held hers in the glass. Dark. Calm.
She turned on the stool and looked up at him directly.
The robe had fallen open at the shoulder.
Neither of them looked at it.
"Find the gap," she said. "Whatever is in those four years. I need to know before he does."
Serafina.
Find it Marcus.
He held her gaze.
Something moved in his eyes she could not read. That was the thing about Marcus. Most of the time she could read him. The times she could not were the ones that stayed with her.
She reached up and pulled him down by the collar.
And she stopped thinking about the door down the hall.
The morning came grey.
Serafina was already at the table when Max walked in. Dark suit. Fresh shirt. He went straight to the coffee. Did not look at her.
She did not look at him either.
"Marcus ran the records again," Max said.
And.
The gap is still there. Four years. No tax records. No travel. Nothing at all. He leaned against the counter. A gap that clean is not a life. It is a plan.
She is a dancer. A gallery owner.
She is something. I just do not know what yet.
I invited her to the Class Royal Thursday meeting.
I know.
You do not object.
"I prefer to keep the things I do not understand close to me." He picked up his jacket. "You think the same way. That is why you invited her."
Serafina looked at him.
He almost smiled. Just for a second. The way he used to a long time ago.
Then he checked his watch and walked to the door.
"Xander's football match is Saturday," she said.
He stopped. I know.
He asked about you.
A pause.
I will be there, Max said.
Then he walked out. She listened to the elevator. Then nothing.
She called Marcus.
He picked up on the first ring.
The gap, she said. What is in it.
Nothing much. She was home. Caring for the child. Studying art online. No travel. No money coming in. Just a young mother and a baby.
Serafina was quiet.
And the daughter. Luxelle.
Adopted. Lyon orphanage. Six years ago. Left at the door. No name. No father listed. Mother recorded as dead.
Serafina sat back slowly.
She adopted her, she said.
Yes.
A short silence.
So the gap is clean.
The gap is clean.
Serafina looked out at the grey morning.
Keep it that way, she said.
A pause on the line. Just long enough.
Of course, Marcus said.
She ended the call.
Xander appeared in the doorway ten minutes later. School uniform. Dark eyes. Hair still messy from sleep. He climbed into the chair across from her and reached for the bread without asking.
She watched him.
His eyes. The way he tilted his head when he was thinking. Small things about him that had nothing to do with Max. That would never have anything to do with Max.
Is Papa gone, he said.
Early meeting.
Xander nodded. That was normal. It had always been normal.
Mama.
Mm.
Hugo said there is a new girl in the younger class at Monte Aurelia. He said her name is Luxelle and she draws horses on everything.
Serafina went very still.
Hugo talks too much, she said.
He does, Xander agreed. But is there a new girl.
Eat your breakfast Xander.
I just want to know.
Why.
He shrugged. Hugo said she does not talk to anyone except Bi Bi. I thought maybe I could talk to her when I transfer next term.
Serafina looked at her son for a long moment.
At his face. His eyes. The things only she could read in him.
Perhaps, she said quietly. We will see.
Xander ate his bread.
Serafina stood at the window.
Behind her, Xander asked for more milk.
No idea what was sitting in the room with him.
The way children never do.
She turned around. Poured him his milk. And smiled at her son like the morning was completely ordinary.
- Writer
