Finding Eden (A Sign of Love Novel)(2)

"Please. Let me put you up for the night. We can make other . . . arrangements tomorrow. Yes?"
I looked down, fidgeting with my hands in my lap. It was either say yes or go back out into the cold street. But I didn't know what his "arrangements" might be and that worried me. I nodded my head and when I looked up at him, he looked pleased.
"Good. Take a shower. Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning." And with that, he turned on his heel and walked quickly out of the room.
Once he had left, I scurried over to the door and turned the lock. Leaning back against the door, I took the time to really take in the room for the first time. It was beautiful. There was a sort of floral fabric on the walls and I walked over to one and ran my hand over the smooth, slightly textured surface. I tried to muster up some gratitude for the lovely surroundings, but there was only numb observance. I turned and looked at the bed again. The luxurious silk and velvet bedding was rich in various shades of cream and lilac. Inviting. I walked back over to it, the call to sleep too great to resist now that my belly was full. I'd shower in the morning.
I climbed back in between the crisp sheets, still fully clothed. Sleep took me under her dark wing, sweeping me away into blessed oblivion.
I dreamed of morning glories, I dreamed of him, my love, wispy images that twisted and turned and washed away under a wave of water so big I was crushed beneath it. There was no breath in my lungs left to call his name, to whisper the words I needed him to know in the end - that I loved him, that I'd always love him, that he was my strength and my weakness, my endless joy, and my greatest sorrow.
I woke up crying, breathless but silent.
I went to the bathroom and stripped my clothes somberly and stood in front of the mirror for a moment, running my hand over my flat belly and sucking back a sob. I stepped under the warm spray and tilted my head back, wetting my hair. I hung my head forward and let go of that which I had held so tightly inside for the past week. I sunk down to the floor of the shower, pulled myself back against the wall, and finally allowed myself to sob as the sound of the running water masked my cries.

**********

I walked out into a large hallway, showered, dressed and having relieved a small portion of the burden of my grief, at least for the moment.
The sounds of dishes clattering drew me and I peeked into a large kitchen where the jeweler was seated in front of a plate of food, an open magazine on the table next to it.
"Good morning," he said, getting up. "You look refreshed. Did you sleep well?"
I nodded. "Yes, thank you." I eyed the food sitting on the table—a plate of bacon and eggs, and a dish of fruit.
The jeweler followed my eyes and waved me over to him. "Please, sit. Eat. We can discuss the arrangements I mentioned last night."
I nodded, biting my lip, and took a seat at the table as he dished up food and set it before me.
I took a few bites before looking up and gathering my resolve. I wanted to stay here. The man was nice, or so it seemed. But, I was pretty sure what his "arrangements" would include, and I didn't think it was possible for me—I couldn't fathom it. Not after what I'd been through. I would return to the street—I might die there—but death didn't scare me, not anymore.
I'll be waiting for you, by a spring. Come find me, I'll be there.
I cleared my throat. "I can't accept the arrangement you propose," I said, lowering my eyes.
He furrowed his brow, his coffee cup stopping midway to his mouth. He tilted his head. "I haven't proposed anything yet."
Heat moved up my neck and I looked down. "I understand what you want," I said softly.
The jeweler watched me for a minute and then lowered his coffee cup, causing it to clatter back down to the saucer. I looked up at him as he stared at me, looking . . . angry? Sad? I couldn't be sure. "That's not what I want."