[RF] Coming Home.

I held my breath as we walked to the penthouse elevator doors, while the rest of the group admired the view and whispered to one another.

We weren’t supposed to be here.

——————————————————————-

The tour was supposed to be at the hotel on the other side of town, but at the last minute the bus pulled into the parking garage I know so well. Knew so well. It’s been three years, but they still haven’t replaced that broken light. The paint has been touched up, and there’s new plants in the garden bed, but it still feels like I’m stepping back in time. Maybe it still feels like I’m coming home.

James, the head of security, caught my eye as we walked through the lobby. I saw the hurt in his eyes when I just shook my head. He had been my confidante for years, we shared secrets and laughs. I hadn’t seen him since the night I left, he carried my bags out to the car and closed the door on my life, slapping the roof and sending me on my way.

After that, I stared at the floor. This was supposed to be my new start. I’d secured a job in the corporate office, taking calls and making coffee. I’d expected a tour of the venues closer to the office at some point, but why were we here? An hour away, at 10.44am, about to take our morning meeting in the function room where I hosted celebrations for years?

As we took our seats in the function room, I learned that this hotel was their latest acquisition. They had plans to renovate from the ground up and I breathed a sigh of relief. Good. Tearing it down would be better, but if that can’t be done then strip it back to its bones and strip away any part of my old life that still lingers in these hallways.

I felt like I was on autopilot as we were guided through the building, barely registering anything our guide was saying. What I did hear was the sounds that used to feel like comfort - Max was still screaming at the new kitchen hand, there was still that electric thrum that runs through the building and making it feel alive, the busts of sound as a the elevator opened and conversations continued as their participants tumbled out.

I didn’t notice where we were until the tour guide started speaking in hushed tones when our elevator doors opened and we stepped onto the moss green carpet. God, I hated that carpet. This lobby had the private elevators to the top floors.

“We are fortunate today, our permanent resident of the penthouse has offered us the opportunity to tour the floor. I just ask that any closed doors are kept closed, and that we be mindful that this is his personal floor. As we step into the next elevator, we are stepping into his home”

I felt the floor falling beneath me and I had to cling to the railing beside me. I didn’t have time to catch my breath, to think of an excuse, before I heard the distinct bell of the private elevator and she stalked out. I hadn’t met her before but I knew her. She had been clinging to his arm in every social media post my friends had sent me until I begged them to stop. She had been the one who crawled into the wreckage of my life and slipped into it like it was her own, while I was trying to find find the shattered glass shards I had been allowed to walk away with so I could rebuild something that might always feel broken.

Her laugh felt like a weapon as it rang out across the lobby, while I tried to avoid her gaze. Luckily, we were entry level employees - not worthy of her eye contact. She made sure we knew what an honour it was, for him to allow us into their home, how lucky we were to see a slice of life that we probably didn’t know existed.

I looked around the room for anything to distract myself but only found myself feeling more unsteady. Even the carpet didn’t help. That horrible green that looked like it was sun damaged the day it was installed. He has wanted to put it in our bedroom before we moved in. His mother and I had giggled together as she called the contractors and had them switch it out to the lobby. Before she passed, we had always shared secret looks about his lack of taste and he’d come to expect that we would conspire like this.

“You’ll have to forgive this carpet.”
Suddenly I was back in the room.
“His mother chose it and he refuses to change it.”
Strange. He knows his mother thought it looked awful. But not my concern. I just needed to survive the next part of the tour and then I never had to come back here again. I was never supposed to be here again.

I held my breath as we walked to the penthouse elevator doors, while the rest of the group admired the view and whispered to one another. It was too late to think of an excuse.

The doors opened and it was like I’d stepped back in time. We were greeted by our flowers. The beautiful painting that he’d commissioned for my birthday, a bouquet that featured flowers from every bunch he’d bought me, the wildflowers that we danced through during our honeymoon, the birth month flowers of those we loved. This painting was our story. Why was it still here? I froze as I noticed it had changed. There was something new. The artist had added a wreath around the base of the vase, a wreath that made my heart stop. It was the one that we had placed together on our son’s grave.

Tears pricked the back on my eyelids and one escaped down my cheek. I wiped it away before anyone noticed and walked into the living area, pretending to listen to the guide as I tried to compose myself. All I could hear was my past echoing through the walls.

As if on autopilot, I wandered away from the group and into the study. My study. Nothing had changed, and I curled up in my armchair and looked out over the city. I glanced down and saw my bookmark was still jammed between the cushions and I quietly slipped it into my pocket. The night I left quickly. I packed two bags and slipped out into the night. This suite wasn’t big enough for two broken hearts to heal, and I had left so much of mine behind here.

I was lost in my memories when I heard the door slam open. I hadn’t realised i had closed it behind me.
“Get out. Now.”
The first words he had spoken to me in years. I turned to him and watched his face fall as though he had seen a ghost. I suppose he had.

“What? Why? Why are you here?”
I didn’t have answers for him as I jumped up and tried to plan my escape. Why was he here? Surely he should have been at his office or at lunch? Anywhere else in the world so I could get through this day and pretend it never happened.

The rest of the group started to gather behind him and our guide began to blabber apologies about me wandering off and opening doors.
“I was clear that this room was off limits” he snapped as he slammed the door closed leaving us alone in the room, the air so thick that it felt heavy. Alone in this room that had been my sanctuary for years, that suddenly felt like the most dangerous place on earth.