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My husband of the past eleven years, and I would be officially divorced by midnight tonight. I stood in what had once been our kitchen as I looked over the paperwork. The house that I had painstakingly redone, going room by room was now his. I considered it a painful price for my freedom. Don’t get me wrong, Luke wasn’t a bad husband, there was just too much baggage for both of us to carry. I walked away to save us both from destroying each other any further. We had agreed that I could stay one last night in the house, I was off to California in the morning. I spent the evening packing the last of my belongings and making my way through the house saying goodbye to all of the spots where I had put my love, the dining room where I had learned to hang wall paper, the upstairs bathroom where I had laid each tile by hand, and the guest bedroom with its newly refinished floor. The house held so many memories, most of them so happy. I paused as I reached the bedroom at the end of hall. We always kept the door closed, it was just too painful to open, with the cheery wallpaper of teddy bears and nursery furniture. I put my hand on the doorknob but I couldn’t bring myself to walk into the room and say goodbye, it was still too painful two years later. I put my hand on the wooden door and leant my head against it.

“Bye, sweetie,” I whispered.

I knew the child that was meant to be in there couldn’t hear me, yet I needed to say it vocally. I walked away from the door and down to the wine fridge, deciding that I would spend the last night in my home, blindingly drunk. Walking away was just too painful to do sober. I knew it wouldn’t take much, I had always been terrible at holding my liquor. I made dinner as sipped my red wine. I made sure to leave the dishes in the sink, it felt like one last fuck you to Luke. By the time my pasta carbonara was done, I had a pretty good buzz. After dinner I took a soak in the claw footed tub in the master bath. I had bought it an estate auction. When I dragged it home, Luke thought I was nuts, I was thrilled. I giggled at the memory of us hauling up the stairs together, huffing and puffing. I still cannot believe we managed to do it. I climbed into the bed I had shared with Luke for one last time, passing out more than falling asleep.

“Julie wake up. Big surprise you left your phone downstairs. You have a ton of missed calls.” Luke said, with annoyance thick in his voice.

“I have the house until 11 am. That was the agreement, remember,” I croaked.

I sat up and the crushing pain from my head caused me to almost vomit. I instantly regretted drinking the night before.

“Nice, Jules, hung-over, are we?”

“What do you care? Why are you here?”

“You clearly haven’t seen the news, have you? Typical you,” he said as he reached over for the remote and clicked on the television.

 The headline on the morning show said, National Lockdown. I sat up and tried to focus on what the newscaster was saying but my stomach was rolling.

“Effective immediately, all residents in the state are locked down until further notice. You should remain in your home and leave only for essential items. Please use extreme caution in venturing out. All flights from Regional Airport have been grounded until further notice,” the perky blonde said on the television screen.

I looked over at the clock it was 8 am. I was supposed to be on a noon flight. The movers were due an hour ago, but I imagined if I checked my phone it there was a message saying they weren’t coming. Luke stood watching the news with me. As the realization hit that I was now stuck, I couldn’t hold back the need to be sick. I ran from the bed, shutting the bathroom door behind me. I felt a little better after I vomited, and I knew a shower would help. I could count on one hand the number of times I’d been properly drunk enough to be hung over. I climbed into the shower and emerged thirty minutes later feeling much better. I came out wearing only my towel. I instinctively walked over to my dresser remembering my clothes were no longer in there. I pulled out a pair of blue jeans and a cream sweater out of my suitcase and dressed. I walked downstairs as the smell of coffee wafted upstairs.

The sunny kitchen which I had always loved, was exceptionally bright this morning as I pushed open the swinging door between the kitchen and dining room. Luke stood with his back to me as I walked in. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee and as he heard me enter, he poured one for me. I sat down at the marble island remembering the day we had went to pick out the perfect piece of marble for the kitchen island. That had been such a fun day, and one of the last that I think we were both truly happy. He turned around and slid my cup towards me.

“The moving company called the house line while you were in the shower. They’re not coming. They didn’t give a reschedule date either before you ask.”

“Thank you for the message,” I said as I looked at all of the missed calls on my phone from the moving company, the airlines, my new job it looked like and my sister.

“Jules what are we going to do here?”

“What do you mean,” I asked putting my phone back down.

“Well you clearly aren’t moving today, and I can’t keep staying in a hotel. We’re going to have to stay here together.”

“Oh no we aren’t. You can’t stay.”

“It would be me who would be letting you stay, remember? The house is mine.”

“Don’t remind me,” I said quietly as I took a sip of my coffee.

Luke may have had his faults, but he had always made a great cup of coffee.

“I’ll get what I can, and I’ll go stay in a hotel, or see if there’s a place I can rent until this all blows over.” I said as I sipped my coffee.

“I think you’ve missed the memo babe. The whole country is on lockdown, this isn’t going to blow over. Where have you been? Don’t you watch the news?”

“I’ve been trying to put my life back together.”

I picked up my coffee and walked out onto the front porch. I sat on the swing and pulled my knees up to my chest. It was chilly, and as the swing moved, I realized the swing was a bad choice. I had paid attention to the news, I just thought there was more time before things really got bad. I had hoped to be in my new place before the bottom fell out. I had family I could stay with, but I didn’t want a daily forensic examination of how my marriage failed. My best friend in town, Blair had three kids under the age of four, so quarantining there was not an option either. I wondered if I could just drive to California, but I ruled that out as soon as I thought of it. I was stuck, at the mercy of my now ex-husband. I held my coffee close as hoping it would warm me. Overwhelmed with the feeling of now being stuck, I began to cry. This was not how the first day of my new life was supposed to go. I was supposed to be on a plane starting a new life, that I wanted. I wiped my tears away with the sleeve of my sweater. The cold was starting to really bite at me, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back into the house, Luke’s house. Why had I signed away the house, I wondered to myself again, for the freedom I wasn’t experiencing at the moment?

Luke knocked on the door jamb before he walked onto the porch.

“Look, I’m not going to throw you out during a global pandemic, I’m not that cruel. You can stay. Do me a favor though, can we please try and be civil to each other? There’s no point in us both holding up here, only to kill each other.”

I refused to look in his direction, I didn’t want him to see me crying.

“Jules look at me. Can you please be civil? It’s the only thing I ask.”

I nodded but still did not look at him.

“Julie seriously, you aren’t even going to fucking look at me? Unreal.”

“I don’t want to,” I said quietly.

“Why?”

“Because,” I turned towards him, “I didn’t want you to see me so upset.”

“Why do you think I’m out here? I knew you would be. Hell, everyone is right now. Everyone woke up to a different world today. Do you want to stay?”

I bit my tongue not to reply that I’d love to stay in my own house, but the only thing Luke had asked for was civility. “Yes, please,” I replied.

“Okay, you can stay until the lockdown is over. Since you are still in the master, I’ll take the guest room.”

“You can have the master if you want, it’s your house.”

“No, you keep it, for now. I have to log into work, so I am going to take the office too.”

I nodded and watched him walked back into the house. I finished my coffee and walked back in the house to warm up and grab another cup. I listened to my messages as I poured another cup of coffee. The first two were from the moving company. I took another sip of the coffee, as the fresh hot coffee warmed me from the inside out. The next message was from my new company. The message said,

“Hello Ms. Harris. We hope you are well. As you know the entire country is locking down due to the Covid-19 virus. As a result, our business will begin feeling the effects quickly and severely. I am so sorry, but we are going to have to rescind our job offer to you at this time. Please know, that if things improve, we are still interested in you as a potential candidate. I have sent a letter to your email inbox as well with this message. I am so sorry Ms. Harris.”

My life felt like it was imploding in one day. I left my coffee and walked back upstairs and climbed into bed. Today was too hard. I slept most of the day away, grateful for the respite of sleep. I woke in the late afternoon and my stomach pulled me downstairs, I had not eaten since the night before. I made myself a quick peanut butter sandwich and then went in search of my treadmill. Thankfully it had not been disassembled yet for the move. I put my ear pods in and began my run. An hour later I felt much better, and I came up from the basement feeling more like myself. Luke stood in the kitchen and had begun to prepare dinner.

“I wondered where you go off to. Are you feeling alright? You slept most of the day.”

I nodded that I was okay.

“Do you want dinner? I was going to grill steak; I could throw one on for you if you want?”

I thought about the offer, normally I’d say something snide, but his request of civility reverberated through my head.

“Yes please. Thank you for the offer. Do you want any help?”

“Do you want to do the veggies? You know I always burn them.”

I smiled, knowing it was true.

“Sure,” I said as I walked over to the fridge and pulled out the fresh asparagus and mushrooms caps.

We prepared our food in silence, and I was grateful for the respite in conversation. This situation was awkward enough, I thought to myself. As if he had read my mind, Luke spoke up.

“In a way I am glad you are here. I know it’s not what you wanted but I know you are safe at least.”

I did my best to put on my polite smile as the word civility ran through my head. I held my tongue as I cleaned the mushrooms. Luke took the steaks out to the grill and I went in search of the bottle of wine from the night before. I poured myself a tiny glass, anything to take the edge off of tonight. Luke came back in and put the empty plate he had carried the steaks out on into the sink. He reached over the bottle and poured himself a glass.

“Let me know when we are ten minutes out, and I’ll do the veggies,” I said, trying to be helpful.

Luke nodded and I got up and began to set the table in the kitchen for dinner.

Thirty minutes later dinner was on the table and we both sat down. There was a surreal feeling to eating dinner in my ex-kitchen with my ex-husband that almost felt comical if it wasn’t so sad.

“Did you get a chance to call your new job to let them know you’ve been detained?”

I put down my cutlery, “I didn’t have to, they rescinded the job offer this morning.”

“Jules, I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Will you be okay money wise?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t say that I had his of the bye-out from our house in my account, it felt like salt in a very open wound. I was grateful for the silence through the rest of dinner.

Our first week of quarantine seemed to pass as we settled into a new routine, making sure to give each other a wide berth. Luke did his best to keep his feelings to himself, but it was clear to me that he was still in love with me. I had chosen the divorce and he had fought me on it, not wanting to throw in the towel. One night, a few weeks into the quarantine, I woke from a   noise from downstairs. I crept down to the living room, seeing the lights from the television on. I walked into the living room and saw Luke sleeping on the couch, it was his turn to drink more than his fair share. I bent down and pulled the half empty bottle of Jack Daniels from his hand and set it on the coffee table. I pulled the blanket from the back of the couch and pulled it over him. I couldn’t help but stare, he looked like the man I had married, so young, innocent, optimistic. My guilt gnawed away at me. I reached above him to switch off the lamp next to him when I saw his eyes open. His gaze was kind.

“I still love you, you know,” he said softly with a drunken slur. “I just want you to know.”

I stood back and bit down hard on my bottom lip. It had been me that had taken the final blow to our marriage and I still don’t completely understand why I had done what I did. I reached down and brushed his sandy-brown hair off of his brow.

“I know, you shouldn’t.” I whispered back.

He rolled towards the back of the couch and away from me. I walked upstairs feeling more like a piece of human trash than I had in a while. I climbed back into bed and laid awake for most of the night. I finally drifted off to sleep in the early hours of the morning. By the time I woke up, Luke had already shut himself in the office, working. I tried to keep myself busy, but nothing seemed to keep my attention for long. I decided to make dinner and I’d make Beef Bourguignon for dinner. It would entertain me for the afternoon, and it was a nice way to thank Luke for letting me stay. He emerged from the office at the smell of it cooking.

“Are you making Beef Bourguignon,” he asked as he came into the kitchen.

“I am, I hope that’s okay.”

“Are you kidding, you know it’s my favorite. I think you make it better than anywhere else on Earth. Remember when we went to France and I ordered it, it was awful.”

“And it made you so sick,” I chimed in.

“Man, that was awful, remember I totally ruined the back of that cab, and the cabbie was so mad.”

“I thought he was going to kill you.”

We both laughed as we remembered that night.

“What inspired you to make it tonight?”

“Boredom, honestly.”

“I have a room that needs to be painted if you want. I’ll pay you for it.”

“Which room are you painting?”

“The one at the end of the hall.”

His statement took the breath out of my lungs. I set my wooden spoon down on the counter and walked out. I could not believe he had said it, Luke was not a cruel man. I walked upstairs and passed the room with its closed door and into the master. I sat on the bed taking in deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I laid back on the bed and curled up, pulling my knees up to my chest, unable to hold back the tsunami of emotion that came spilling out. I was startled by Luke’s knock on the door.

“Jules?”

“Go away Luke.”

“I’m sorry, that … I don’t’ know why I said that. I’m sorry.”

I pulled the duvet over my head, it was too much, all of it. My current situation and my past situation. I once again weighted the options of staying with friends or family, but I honestly didn’t know if I could even get them or if they’d want a house guest right now. At any rate, I wasn’t leaving the bedroom until I was sure Luke was asleep for the night. I laid in bed as afternoon turned to evening, just watching the sun move across the wall of the bedroom. As dusk turned to night, I could have smelled dinner cooking. It smelled like beef Bourguignon. I had not finished it before my encounter with Luke, not that there had been much left to do. I wondered if he had finished it. An hour later Luke knocked on the door again.

“Jules please come down. I’m really sorry. I finished dinner. Please come eat.”

I remained silent. When he cracked the door, I pretended to be sleeping. He shut the door and I rolled away. My stomach growled at the delicious smell, but I ignored it. A little later he knocked on the door again.

“I made you a plate. I’ll leave it here for you. Julie I’m an asshole, I’m sorry for what I said.”

I heard the tray of dinner clink as he set it outside the door. I wasn’t hungry enough to get out of bed, and I left it outside my door as I fell asleep for the night. The next morning, I woke, uninterested in getting out of bed. I pulled the drapes closed and climbed back into bed and went back to sleep. Around noon I finally ventured out of the bedroom, noticing that the dinner tray had been cleared from the doorway. I made a bowl of cereal and crept back up to my room. After I finished it, I rolled back over and went back to sleep. I woke to a dark room, and Luke’s knock at the door again that evening.

“Jules, I’m coming in. You’re scaring me up here.”

He cracked the door and peeked in I stayed still in the bed facing away from him. I hoped he’d just close the door and leave but he walked in. I could smell reheated Beef Bourguignon and he set a dinner tray on the dresser. He paused and I willed him to walk out. Instead, he came and sat on my side of the bed. He reached out his arm, resting it on my upper arm.

“Jules,” he whispered. “Please eat something and I’ll go.”

I laid motionless trying to decide what I wanted to do, when he clicked on the light.

“Honey are you still in the clothes from yesterday? Julie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said it.” He paused. “That’s a lie. I said it because I was hurting, am hurting. Seeing you in our kitchen, making our favorite meal. It was a terrible thing to say to you. If I could take it back I would.”

I rolled towards him, feeling too fragile to fight.

“Look if you eat, I’ll leave you in peace.”

I propped myself up and he took the cue grabbing the tray of food, setting it across my lap.

“I finished it last night, but it’s missing something, like a spice missing.”

I looked down at the dish.

“It’s missing thyme.”

“Damnit, that’s it.”

I looked up at him and I know he read the damage his words had done on my face. He sat back down and put his hand over mine. I lost my composure and buried my face in my free hand. He let go of my hand and grabbed the tray putting it on the floor. He sat back up and pulled me into his arms. I expected to feel repulsed, but his hug was genuine, and I felt comfort in his arms. I didn’t push away, but I didn’t embrace him in return either. When I quieted, he grabbed the tray and set it back on my lap. I nodded understanding the silent ask for me to eat and he stood up and walked out leaving me in peace. When I finished dinner, I took a bath. After I dressed in clean pajamas, I grabbed the tray to take it downstairs. I froze as I overheard Luke’s voice in the living room, and I realized he had to be on the phone. I stayed frozen as I listened.

“No, it’s my fault, this is all my fault mom. I know she’s lost. I had no right to say that to her. I’ve apologized but I’ll never be able to take it back.”

There was a pause as my now ex-mother in law who I had always adored, spoke on the other end. I couldn’t hear her side, of the conversation. She had always been kind to me. Even when we announced we were divorcing, but I wondered if Luke had ever told her the true catalyst for the divorce. One of the only things she had asked of me when things were truly awful between Luke and I was not to continue to hurt each other. She didn’t know how deep that hurt went and was still worried about us. I filed for divorce the next day. I wouldn’t destroy her son as a person.

“I love her so much it hurts,” he continued, “ and I would give anything for her to see it. This is all my fault.”

I heard his voice crack as he said it, and decided I’d heard enough. I walked all the way to the kitchen. I set the tray down and started to wash the bowl. I had played a bigger part in our demise than he had. The fact that he thought the entire thing was his fault left me hollowed out to the point that if I didn’t talk to him, there wouldn’t be anything left of me by the time this whole ordeal was over. I had planned a life across the country to avoid this conversation and now I was stuck in the house with him, unable to escape it. I set the clean bowl down in the dish rack and dried my hands. I walked towards the living room and knocked on the doorjamb as Luke sat with his head in his hands. He looked up at my entrance.

“You’re up and showered.”

I could see that he had been crying, his eyes were still red, and his face splotchy. I crossed the room and bent down in front of him.

“I overheard your conversation with your mom. I need to set this straight; this is not all your fault; I share the blame.”

“I pushed you into it, all of it.”

“No, I had free will, we equally participated in a lot of the wrongs.”

“All of losses and you said you didn’t want to keep trying for a family, but I kept pushing. I saw what it did to you emotionally, physically each time, what it did to us. I really believed if we kept trying, we’d get there, and a baby would make everything all better.”

“I know, I did too.”

“I didn’t listen when you said you didn’t want to try anymore, after we lost Daniel. I was selfish.”

“So was I. I couldn’t handle being a disappointment to you anymore, not able to give you the one thing you wanted. Do you know why I had an affair, the real reason?”

Luke looked up at me, as he wiped a tear from my cheek.

“I just wanted to be loved for me, and not with the pressure to get pregnant each time we were intimate. I needed to still be touched as a person for me, and we couldn’t do that. Each time we slept together after Daniel, I was terrified to become pregnant again, but I couldn’t tell you and break your heart further. It was an awful thing to do, I’m sorry Luke.”

Luke grabbed me and pulled me in closer to him and this time I wrapped my arms around him. We held each other for a long time, even after my legs fell asleep from kneeling in front of him. Luke pulled away first.

“I knew I was pushing too hard, but I didn’t know how to stop. To be so close to being parents, and to have it ripped away, I didn’t know how to process it. I pushed you away.”

I leant back into him and let him hold me. We stayed up well into the early hours of the morning talking. Finally, all cried out, I grabbed him by the hand and led him upstairs to our bed. That night I fell asleep in his arms.

The next morning, he woke first and he trailed his index finger down the bridge of my nose.  I opened my eyes, and there he was, his deep brown eyes smiling.

“You are so beautiful; I was such a fool to let you slip away.”

“Where do we go from here?”

“Wherever the road takes us if your open to it?”

“I think I am,” I said before I leant up and kissed him.

Greg was a great dad to his three daughters, that’s what attracted me most to him. I met him and Kailey, Ellie, and Annie when I replied to an ad on social media for a nanny. I graduated from college mid-year, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt to put some money away while I was job hunting. I talked to Greg first on the phone and there was something about his voice, that put me at ease. He explained that he occasionally travelled for work and would need someone to stay with his girls. He gave me a few days to think about it before we set up a meeting. In the call he didn’t mention the girls’ mother, and I didn’t ask.

I met Greg in person on Valentine’s Day. The large brick townhouse sat on a corner with a black wrought-iron fence around it. The townhouse wasn’t overly large, but it was grand in the sense that it was old and stood proudly on the corner since the day it had been built. I turned the handle on the gate and walked up the front steps as it started to snow again. We were due for a big storm, but the worst of it wasn’t due to hit until much later in the day. This snow was just the beginning. I knocked on the large black set of doors and turned around to watch the snow fall. I turned around at the noise of the door opening and finally saw Greg face to face. He was older than I had imagined on the phone, but he wore it well. I would have guessed he was in his forties. It was his eyes that caught my attention first, they were icy blue, but it was more than the color. If the eyes are the window to the soul, Greg’s eyes said he was sad, hurting, and in need of something I did not know. He wore a beard, cut short, and it complemented his chocolate brown wavy hair. Standing about a foot and a half taller than me, he had a slim but muscular build, that I got the hint of by the way his clothes fit.

“Hi, you must be Lucy,” he said as he held his hand out to shake mine.

“I am, you’re Greg,” I asked, taking his and into mine.

His handshake was firm, but I noticed the warmth of his hand and his skin on mine. He moved out of the doorway and gestured for me to enter. I walked in pulling my hand away from his and felt a flutter from deep in my stomach. I couldn’t take the job, I knew it then, I was supremely attracted to Greg. He came around me and let me into the front sitting room. The house was tastefully decorated, not like a bachelor would have done it or he had hired a decorator. Whoever had done the room knew what they were doing, it was gorgeous with the two white couches that sat opposite each other, and a fireplace with a small fire going. I instinctively walked over to it and put my hands out to warm them.

“It’s cold out there isn’t it? Can I take your coat,” Greg asked as he followed me into the room.

“It is, we’re supposed to get a snowstorm this evening. You’d think it would be too cold to snow. Yes, please,” I replied as I took off my coat and handed it to him.

He took my coat and walked out of the room as I looked at the pictures on the mantel. His three daughters with their bright red hair, freckles and smiles were in almost every picture. I finally spotted a picture of the woman who had to be their mother, her dark auburn hair with it’s soft wave, fell softly around her shoulders as her blue eyes radiated happiness. I wondered why she wasn’t here to interview me. I looked in the mirror, that sat above the fireplace, and my reflection showed my cheeks bright pink from the cold. The natural pink hue complemented my dark brown hair and green eyes. I couldn’t see much more of my face, as I was too short, and the mantle was tall. I heard Greg walk back into the room and I turned around at his entrance to the room.

“Would you like something to drink, perhaps something warm, coffee, cocoa, tea?”

“No thank you. This lovely fire has done the trick,” I replied as I walked over and sat on one of the couches.

Greg walked in and sat opposite. I folded my hands in my lap and waited for him to begin. I had so many questions, but so far I had liked what I had saw.

“So you’ve graduated early then?”

“Yes, I took an extra course each semester.”

“What did you study?”

“Journalism.”

Greg nodded, “Good major, so what is your ultimate occupation and why nannying right now?”

I let out a nervous laugh, I always did that when I was nervous and I hated it, but I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t sure if it was sitting opposite to a man as handsome as Greg or actually wanting the position, but my own nerves surprised me.

“I want to take some time to figure out what I want to really do in journalism. This position would give me some time to figure out where I want to be.”

“That makes sense. So it is just me and the girls. We’ve had a lot of change in the past year and a half and so I want whoever I hire to be around for a while. Does that sound like something you could do?”

“How long is a while?”

“Maybe the next year or so. I have to be honest, with you just starting a career this seems unfair to ask.”

“I can’t commit to a year, but a solid few months. I understand if that won’t work for you and the girls. Can I ask.”

He put his hand up before I could finish my question and took a deep breath.

“I’m a widower. My wife passed away almost a year and a half ago. She slipped and fell onto the El tracks, hit her head, and never woke up.”

“I am so sorry for your loss. I understand why stability would be so important right now.”

“Thank you. I’ve hired a few nannies through agencies, but it has not been a great experience. I just need someone who will look after my girls, keep them safe and be a friend to them. It’s sound simple enough but I’ve had a string of bad luck finding the right person.”

“You said they were, 9, 7 and 5, is that right?”

“Yes. They’re in school and so on weekdays they’d be there, so it would really be getting them ready in the mornings and taking them to school and then evenings. I’ve tried to cut back on my travel for work, but it I still occasionally have to go. I’ve been leaving them with my sister, but she lives out in the burbs, and has kids of her own, it just gets tricky.”

“I understand.”

“They’ve been through a lot, my girls, and I have to get this right for them. I can’t be everywhere, here for them, and working the hours I need to.”

“What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a private equity attorney. Does the position still interest you, even if you can’t commit to the long term?”

“It does. I might work well. I’d be willing to give it a try.”

“Really? There’s a room for you, so you wouldn’t have to pay rent somewhere if you didn’t want to, and that is included in your compensation. You’d pretty much have run of the house. You said you had experience working with children?”

“Yes, I come from a large family, and babysat all through my teen years.”

“Your family, are they here in the city?”

“No, they’re all back east. I went to Northwestern and fell in love with Chicago. I’d like to stay here and make a career here if I can.”

“It’s a good news city. Would you be willing to meet their girls?”

“Of course. They have to feel comfortable with me.”

“I’m relieved to hear you say that.” He said as he looked down at his watch. “They’ll be home in a few hours. Would you like to see the house in the meantime?”

“Sure. I just wanted to clarify, or ask, would it be okay for me to only stay when you are out of town? I have a place of my own not far from here.”

“It’s not what I had in mind but it can work.”

He stood up and I followed his lead as he took me through the town house. There were four large bedrooms upstairs. Each of the girls had their own and were the sweetest rooms I had ever saw. One thing was clear, that Greg loved his daughters deeply, his face lit each time he spoke of them. We wound our way through the house, down the back stairs and into the large kitchen at the back of the townhouse. I was surprised to see that the original cabinets, tiles and stove sat, like a time capsule. It was charming.

“My wife wouldn’t let me touch this room when we moved in, she loved the vintage look of the kitchen,” he said as if he had read my mind.

“It’s charming.”

“That’s exactly what she said, I’ll be honest, I don’t get it.”

We rounded a corner and passed through his office, with its dark wood panels and book cases on either side of the room. The next room was the master, with its en-suite bathroom. We wound back out to the foyer.

“So that’s the house. I have a cleaning lady that comes twice a week, so I wouldn’t expect you to do that. What do you think? Still want to meet the girls?”

“Yes.”

“You could have the free room upstairs when you stayed, if that would be okay?”

“Yes, it will work. When would you like me to meet them?”

“Are you busy this evening?”

“I don’t have plans tonight.”

“On Valentine’s Day?”

I laughed nervously again. “Not this year.”

That night I came back and met his daughters who were adorable and charming. I also knew I was going to have to be careful to keep my attraction in check. Greg’s looks had disarmed me when we met and set me on edge. Seeing him with his daughters, so kind and gentle, about made me melt. I stayed for dinner, as we ate spaghetti from Inga’s down the street. Greg went and picked it up giving the girls and I a few minutes alone to get to know each other. I was smitten, with their freckles and red hair. Each one had a spark of life in them that was so precious, I adored them instantly. We laughed through dinner as the girls grilled me, on every aspect of my life. I found it adorable, and Greg seemed pleased. After dinner the girls went up to their rooms to play, and finish homework, leaving Greg and I alone in the dining room.

“What do you think? Still interested in the position?”

“Absolutely, they’re wonderful.”

“You have no idea how glad I am to hear you say that. I haven’t seen them that excited in a really long time. They genuinely like you.”

“I like them.”

We agreed that I’d start the following Tuesday, which gave me three days before I started. The first week I spent getting the girls to and from school. I helped them each evening with their homework and made them dinner. Greg usually arrived home between 7:30 and 8 pm each night. I admired how when he came in the door, his girls were his immediate and only focus, he was a great dad. As I put my coat on to leave, he told me that he’d have to go to Seoul, Korea for in the next week and would be gone for about four to five days for work. I felt ready to take the girls full-time. Honestly caring for them did not feel like a job, I was having a blast. I also loved that I got to see Greg each day. I was crushing hard on him, and tried to keep my feelings hidden, but a tension was growing between us it seemed. I hoped it wasn’t in my head, but I reassured myself that it couldn’t be. I had caught him looking at me in the way one looks at someone their interested in.

I came over the following Sunday to get the rundown for what I needed to know while Greg was out of the country. He had dropped the girls off at his sister’s for their cousin’s birthday party leaving us alone in the house. I walked into the front door and announced my entrance, as my greeting echoed through the empty house. Greg’s office door was shut, and I pressed my ear up against the door before I knocked. I could hear him on the phone so I put my coat over the chair that sat opposite so he would see that I was there when his call was over. I walked through the house, that felt empty without the girls there and into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. I was frozen solid from being outside. I filled the kettle and put it on, then grabbed a mug, and a tea bag. I ignited the gas burner as Greg walked in.

“Hi, I thought I heard you in here. Sorry my call went long. Thanks for coming by today.”

“Do you want a cup of tea? I boiled enough water for two. I hope you don’t mind, that I helped myself, I was so cold.”

“Not at all, as of tomorrow, this will practically be your house. Do you feel ready?”

“Yes. I’m excited. I adore your daughters. Are you ready for your flight and all of that?”

“I am. I hate leaving them.”

“In general?” I asked, as I realized he might have meant he was nervous to leave them with me.

“Yes of course, I have full confidence in you, Taylor. I wouldn’t leave if I didn’t. I must confess, the girls adore you.”

I smiled as the kettle began to whistle ever so softly.

“I’m sorry did you say if you wanted a cup of tea?” I asked as I walked over to remove the kettle.

“Sure.”

I reached up into the cupboard and grabbed a teacup out. The cup slipped from my hand and fell hitting the counter, cracking and then shattering as it hit the floor.

“Oh no,” I said as I tried to catch it. I watched as it shattered, sending glass shooting out in all directions from the impact point. “Oh Greg, I’m so sorry.”

I bent down to pick up the shards of broken glass as Greg came over to help.

“No worries, it was only a tea cup. I’ve broken quite a few of these in the exact same way. I think it’s the glaze on them that makes them so slippery.”

He bent down to help me pick up the glass and I looked him in the eye. His deep blue eyes, I felt like I could get lost in them. I tried to look away, as he kept my gaze. I looked away sharply as I cut my finger on a piece of the broken cup.

“Ouch!”

I pulled my finger away, and blood started to drip. The cut was small but deep.

“Here, let me see.”

Before I could protest, he pulled my hand gently towards him, and pulled a kitchen towel off of the counter at the same time. I leaned in to examine my finger in his hands as he did the same. He gently pulled a small shard of glass out of the cut and wrapped the towel around my hand. He looked up at me and I wanted to kiss him, his soft pink lips. I imagined what it would be like to kiss him, and without warning he leant in and kissed me. Like the ignition on the gas burner on the stove, his kiss sparked a flame deep inside my belly. It was soft, and gentle. I could smell his cologne and the natural sent of his body, as he slid his free hand along my cheek. Abruptly he pulled away.

“Shit, Taylor. I’m so sorry. I…” he trailed off.

“It’s okay,” I said softly.

Normally from anyone else I would take the admission of guilt as a lie, but I could read it on his face. He knew he had crossed a line. He let go of my hand and stood up.

“It’s not, I’m sorry. I should not have done that.”

I stood up and met his gaze, leaving the broken teacup on the floor for the moment.

“I’m not offended.”

“I just don’t want you to think I am this sort of guy, I’m not.”

“It’s okay, I don’t think you are.”

“Let me get you your tea and a band aid. Please sit, I’ll clean this up.”

I put my hand on his arm, I could tell that he felt awful.

“Greg it’s okay.”

“I haven’t kissed anyone since my wife. I haven’t even been interested in anyone since Maggie. I don’t know if it has been seeing you with my girls or what. I promise you I will keep my hands to myself, that will never happen again. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable in any way.”

“You didn’t. Please don’t be so hard on yourself.”

The way he looked back at me, I moved away and took a seat at the kitchen table. His eyes said he needed the space, there was so much hurt and pain there. He poured the hot water into my teacup and let it brew as he began to pick up the glass from his teacup. I pulled the kitchen towel away from my finger and saw that it had already stopped bleeding. I watched him as he walked out of the kitchen, and I wondered where he had gone. He came back into the room with a first aid kit and stopped to grab my tea. He set it down on the table, and the kit too as he sat down next to me. I reached over for the kit and grabbed a band-aid. As I tried to pull the wrapper open my cut began to bleed again.

“Here, let me help.” He said as he reached for the band-aid in my hand.

I held out my hand for him to put it on, his touch on my skin, was wonderful, and I looked up at him again. I saw him start to move in towards me again, but he stopped. I leaned in instead and kissed him gently. He welcomed my kiss as his tongue met mine. I pulled away first, just enough to talk.

“It wasn’t all you. I know that this is not a good idea, but I wanted to kiss you anyway.”

He looked at me and slid his hand along my cheek again, bringing my lips back to his. We kissed until my lips tingled, we were both out of breath. For as eager as we both were, there was a gentleness to his touch. He pulled me towards him, and I felt as if I would spontaneously combust. He pulled his lips away but still held me in his arms.

“I wasn’t lying earlier; I haven’t done this since Maggie. Are you sure this is what you want?”

I searched his face, unsure if he was looking for me to be the stronger one. Before I could answer he spoke up.

“We can’t do this, it isn’t right. I’m sorry Taylor. I want to but, it just isn’t right.”

He gently released me from his embrace as I reached up and stroked the side of his cheek before I sat back in my seat. Before I could say anything else, he had put on a professional face, and began to give me the rundown on caring for the girls while he was away. I found it difficult to concentrate, not that where was anything that he said that was unexpected.

“Lastly,” he said, “I don’t know if you’ve been following the news about this virus going around. I prefer you keep the girls out of large crowds.”

“Of course, it’s pretty scary. Do you think it will come here, and will you have any issues traveling to Asia?”

“I shouldn’t, it is a quick trip so hopefully I’ll be home before anything kicks off. I think it will come here but we have some time yet, and it won’t be widespread, but I don’t know.”

The next morning, I arrived before the sun rose. The girls were still asleep in bed. Greg met me in the foyer.

“Good morning, coffee is on if you want a cup.” He said as I took off my coat and set my bag down.

“Yes please.”

“Please help yourself, I am going to go grab the cash I have for you while I’m away.”

I walked into the kitchen as he walked into his office. I tried to shrug off the awkwardness that hung in the air. Although I agreed with and respected his decision to not sleep with me yesterday, the desire was still there. I poured myself a cup of coffee and I could not help but think of yesterday afternoon, being in his arms. I heard a knock at the front door and hurried to open it so the noise wouldn’t wake the girls. The driver for Greg’s car had arrived. I told the driver he’d be right out and shut the door. I walked into Greg’s office, knocking first.

“Your car is here.”

He stood behind his desk. I could see there was concern on his face.

“Don’t worry, I will take good care of the girls, we’ll have a blast.”

“I have no doubt you’ll take great care of them. I forgot to mention that I’d like to call them each evening.”

“Of course. What time?”

“Will 6 pm work?”

“Yes. I think we are going to stick pretty close to home. Did you see the paper this morning? The virus seems to be spreading in New York now.”

“I saw, I am wondering if this is a good idea to travel right now. I’ll be in and out,” he reassured himself.

He walked up to me, and I couldn’t help myself, I leaned up and kissed his cheek.

“Safe travels,” I said gently as I leant back down.

“I couldn’t sleep last night. I kept thinking about yesterday afternoon.”

“Me too.”

He placed his hand on my cheek and I turned and kissed the inside of his palm, holding his hand against my face. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips and then leaned his forehead on mine.

“Please take good care of my girls, they’re my whole world.”

“I will, go, before you miss your flight.”

He pulled away, his hand still in mine and squeezed it as he walked out of the front door.

Three days after he left all travel from Asia ceased. Greg frantically tried to get back home to The States. It scared me to see him so afraid. I made sure to keep the news off, to not scare the girls. Greg and I talked each night privately, and texted back and forth. The more we talked, the more I knew I really liked him. When the lockdown started in Chicago, Greg told me I could take the girls to his sisters if I wanted. I declined, wanting to keep them home. We made the best of a terrifying situation, and I did my best to keep them entertained. The girls yearned for their father, and I wanted Greg to be home too. School for the girls canceled and it seemed as if life ground to a halt. That night when the girls went to bed, I called Greg to give him the daily update. I facetimed him from the living room. The screen came on and I noticed he looked distressed.

“Hello,” I said.

“How was today?”

“Good, we played nail salon, and built forts in the living room. The girls are in good spirits. How are you doing?”

“I’m going out of my mind here. I want to be there with you guys. I’m not allowed to leave my room and it feels like I will never get home.”

“You will. In the meantime, I am keeping the girls safe. We are shut-ins too.”

“Thank you for that, you don’t know what it means to see them so happy while all of this is going on.”

“You look stressed.”

“I am. This is so hard.”

“It is, but we’ll get through it.”

“Taylor, I don’t just miss the girls, I miss you too. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I miss you too. It doesn’t.”

“I can’t stop thinking about that afternoon in the kitchen.”

“Me neither.”

“Does this make you uncomfortable? Please tell me if I’m out of line here?”

“You’re not.”

“I know I keep asking about the girls, but how are you doing, are you okay?”

I smiled; his concern touched my heart.

“I’m alright. I’m scared like everyone else but doing my best to not show it to the girls. My family is upset that I didn’t come home but I explained the situation to them, and the understood the importance of me being here for you and the girls.”

“Thank you, I know how difficult this situation must be for you too.”

Each night Greg called, and we chatted just us. We got to know each other over facetime. I learned about where he went to school, and how his career had started. He also talked a little about losing Maggie, and how they had met. It was clear that he was still very much in love with her, not that I minded, she was the mother of his three beautiful daughters. Greg also got to know me too, about my goals, and dreams, and ambitions. I told him about my family and growing up. As the days turned into weeks the girls missed him terribly and I had to admit, as silly as it was, I did too. Finally, Greg was told that he would be able to fly home in four days. We debated wither or not to tell the girls, we didn’t want them to be disappointed if it didn’t work out for some reason. The night he booked his ticket he called me. We sat in talked as usual, as the migraine I had all day, roared furiously. I tried to push the pain aside as he showed me his ticket. He was so excited to be home, to hug all of us. He could tell I was in pain and he offered to have his sister come look after the girls if I needed the help. I declined, hoping I would feel better in the morning.

The next morning, I woke feeling awful, and I knew that this was more than a headache. I was scared. I took my temperature and it was high. I didn’t know if I had caught the virus somehow, even though we had isolated ourselves. Scared, I called my mother, who offered to fly to Chicago. I declined, if I had the virus the last thing, I wanted was to pass it to her. The girls woke and saw how sick I was. I could tell that Kailey, the oldest was scared. I reassured her and told her we’d just have a movie day and take it easy. All three girls tried their best to help take care of me and I could not believe how sweet they were. Greg and Maggie had raised wonderful children. That night I fell asleep on the couch, too sick and sore to move to my bed. Off in the distance I heard my phone ring, but I didn’t have the strength to go search for it. I knew it had to be Greg, but I’d have to miss tonight’s call.

I struggled through the next day, sicker than I had ever been. I seriously considered calling my mother or Greg’s sister to look after the girls. They were amazing and so self-reliant, but I feared what would happen if I didn’t make it past this illness. There was nowhere for me to get tested and I couldn’t leave the girls alone to go do it. If I had the flu and not the virus, I didn’t want to expose all of us either. That night Greg called, and I barely had the energy to speak to him. I read the alarm on his face when I answered the facetime call. We talked briefly before I fell asleep, forgetting to hang up the call. I woke the next afternoon still feeling rotten. Panicked I managed to get myself off of the couch and check on the girls. Kailey had made them all cereal and the three of them were playing in her room. I laid down in my bed and tried to listen for them. I fell back asleep, too weak and winded from the climb up the stairs. That night I didn’t hear my phone ring from Greg’s call. I rolled over around 3 am and saw a soggy bowl of cereal that one of the girls had left for me. By sheer will power I managed to get out of bed and went and checked on them. They were tucked into Greg’s bed down in his room. I made my way back to the couch to try to stay on the same floor as them, so I could hear them better. I felt like I had abandoned my post, to look after them. It was unfair that this was all falling on Kailey’s shoulders, but the way she soldiered on, it was clear she had been in the role before, looking after her younger sisters.

When I woke again, daylight streamed through the front windows, as I laid on the couch I had sat and been interviewed on. I felt something wet across my forehead and turned to look. Greg stood above me, wetting my brow with a cool washcloth. I tried to sit up.

“Shhh, just stay still, help is on the way.” He said trying to soothe me.

“Are you really here,” I croaked.

“I am.”

“The girls?”

“They’re upstairs.”

“No, I don’t want you to get this.”

“Too late, I’m exposed.”

I heard sirens approaching and wondered if they were coming for me. In my fever induced haze I was afraid he had called the police because I had not cared for his girls over the past few days. Too weak, I couldn’t move. I tried not to cry, but I couldn’t help it.

“It’s okay, you’ll be okay.”

I closed my eyes.

When I opened them again, I was in a hospital room with an iv in my arm. I didn’t remember the ambulance ride or going through the emergency room. The doctor came in a while later to let me know that I had caught the virus but that I was doing very well. His comment surprised me, as I felt as close to death as I ever had, I could only imagine what a bad case of this would have been like. A nurse came in with a small blue gift bag.

“This was left by a very handsome, very concerned friend of yours. He can’t come up and visit but he asked me to give it to you.”

I reached out for it and she handed it to me. Inside there was a blue stuffed bunny and handmade cards from the girls. I smiled as I read them.

“Are those from your girls,” she asked.

I smiled and nodded, even though they were exactly mine. Going through all of this I felt like they were now. I looked into the bottom of the bag and saw an envelope with my name on it. I pulled it out and opened it, it was a letter from Greg. The letter said:

Dear Taylor,

I have no words to convey my level of gratitude to you for keeping my girls safe. When I got home and saw you on the couch, I have only been that afraid one other time in my life, the night Maggie died. I didn’t get a chance to tell her how much I loved her one last time. I don’t want to miss my chance again. I pray that you get better soon because all I want to do is hold you in my arms. Over these past few weeks, I have fallen for you. I know how crazy that sounds not even being on the same content, but I love you Taylor. Please fight with everything you have in you. The girls and I need you.

Yours,

Greg

I held onto the letter tightly. I felt like it gave me strength, the will of the girls, and the love from Greg to fight off the virus. I was in the hospital for ten days, and each day fresh roses arrived to my room from Greg. My mother had once again offered to fly in to care for me when I got home, but the doctor advised against it. Although I was better, I could still be infectious. The hospital arranged transport back to my apartment, where I would be isolated for the next two weeks. It felt wonderful to be in my own place although the only place I wanted to be was with Greg and the girls. That evening as I sat on my couch, I heard the familiar squeals and giggles of the girls.

“Taylor,” they called up at my window on the third floor.

I got up and walked out to the balcony to see Greg and the girls down on the sidewalk. The girls cheered as I stepped out of my apartment. I could see relief wash over Greg’s face to see me up and about. We had continued to talk each night on the phone while I was in the hospital, and I swear that it was the promise of being able to be with him and the girls that gave me the strength to heal. I waved down at them.

“We wanted to come by to see you,” he shouted up.

We had our distanced visit for a couple minutes before I got winded trying to shout, and seeing that I was getting tired, Greg took the girls home. That night he called and told me that seeing him that closely but not being able to hold me had been cruel. Together we counted the days until my isolation was over. While I was in isolation, he had himself tested for immunity, we wanted to be extra careful, the test came back positive and we were thrilled. He had contracted the virus but had been asymptomatic. The morning that my isolation period was over, I woke thinking about Greg. We had decided that they’d come over for a short visit so the girls could see me, and we’d go from there. Sunlight shone through the open windows of my apartment, as the early June air blew in. I rolled over in bed, grateful that  I had made it through the worst, and so far did not have any long lasting effects.

My doorbell rang, and I rolled over in the direction of the door. My stomach did a little flip as I hoped it was Greg. I got out of bed and I pulled my bathrobe around me as I made my way to my front door. I opened it and saw Greg standing on the landing with a massive bouquet of roses.

“I couldn’t wait any longer to see you.”

I smiled as he stepped into my apartment, he set the roses down on the hallway table and pulled me into his arms. My body felt small in his grip and I loved the feeling. I felt safe for the first time since I could remember. I put my arms around him and held him. We stood in my living room with the sunlight around us, happy to be able to hold each other. We stayed like that for a long time, as I listened to his breath, and smelled the scent of him. The moment felt surreal, he was actually here, and I was in his arms. Emotion got the better of me and tears streamed down my face. Noticing my breath hitch, Greg tipped my chin up towards him.

“Honey what’s wrong?”

“I just can’t believe your actually here.”

He lent down and kissed me softly.

“I will always be here.”

“So, groceries have been ordered and should be here before four. You’ll be able to reach me by phone, text, the normal. Let me think, is there anything else?” Meyer asked as she recounted her mental checklist. She stopped speaking at the sound of Nathan’s phone ringing.

Meyer had taken the job as Nathan’s assistant because she believed in the work he did. To say that she was overqualified for the job was an understatement, but working for the Women’s Colab Company had been her goal since she had first read about Nathan and the company in college. She took the job hoping to move into a more senior position in time. She had been Nathan’s personal assistant for over a year and had excelled at it. They both knew her time as his assistant was coming to an end, as Belva their human resources director was getting ready to move across the country. Meyer had gone to school for human resources and a solid background in the field. She fidgeted with the tag on her purse as she heard Nathan in his office. The conversation sounded tense. Normally as his PA, she’d ask what was going on, and solve whatever issue had arisen on the call, or give him the pieces to do so. She felt awkward walking into his home office. She had met him at his house to go over any last details before the city shut down for quarantine. The entire company had gone to a virtual set up, and Meyer had been helpful in getting Nathan all set up. As brilliant as he was, technology was not in his wheelhouse.

She glanced down at her phone, she needed to get moving to get on the subway before it stopped. It would be running until four and then shut down for how long, no one knew. She could take a cab, but the fair would be outrageous. She stood in Nathan’s living room, looking out over the city. His view took in the entire skyline as the city sprawled out in the view. Her phone said, 3:15. Time was ticking, and she still had to pick up a few things before she was locked in her own apartment. No one knew what laid ahead for quarantine, but the thought of being locked in her tiny apartment for weeks did not thrill Meyer. With rent in the city so outrageous, she rented the largest apartment she could, as close to the city center as possible. Her studio apartment left just enough room between the end of the double bed and the fridge that she could just stand to take two steps into the minuscule bathroom. She thought that she’d only ever had to sleep there, so the small space didn’t matter too much.

Nathan walked out of his office, and before he said anything Meyer read his face, he was upset.

“Anabel isn’t coming. She’s staying in France.”

Meyer couldn’t say that she was exactly surprised. Anabel, Nathan’s soon to be ex-wife had been trying to patch things up for most of the time she had worked for Nathan. He loved her but Anabel had not been so committed to the relationship. She was not discrete about her extramarital affairs and Meyer hated to see Nathan treated so poorly.

“Traveling can be rough right now. Maybe it’s for the best.”

“No, she’s not coming home ever.”

Meyer’s stomach sank, she had been waiting for the bottom to fall out for Nathan, but she didn’t think Anabel would be cruel enough to do it as a pandemic swept across the globe.

“Nathan I’m,” she paused as her phone buzzed in her hand and she looked down at it briefly. The subway had closed early. “I’m so sorry Nathan, that’s awful.”

Guilt ate away at her, as she looked at him as he stood behind the kitchen island. He wore his button-down shirt, with rolled cuffs, and she looked at his strong forearms. She had always been attracted to Nathan but never let herself even entertain the idea; it would jeopardize all that she had been working towards. He was about ten years older than she was and had started to grey at the temples, which only made him more attractive she thought. He had deep blue eyes and a kind face, that was weathered in a manly way. Everything about him screamed compassion, kind, loving man. Women regularly threw themselves at Nathan, but he had been committed to making things work with Anabel.

“Thank you. Is everything okay,” he asked gesturing to her phone?

The fact that he was more concerned about her, than Anabel and his own situation only reinforced what a decent human being he was.

“It’s nothing. Do you want me to stay for a bit longer?”

“No, I’ll be okay. Will you be okay? You’re in Taylor Heights, right?”

“I am.”

“You’re all set up with a work computer and all?”

“I am. Do you need me to go over your office set up one more time?”

“No, I think I’ve got it. Thank you, Meyer, for coming over and setting all of this up, I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’re welcome. I should get going,” she said as she walked towards the door. She felt awful leaving him after such a heartbreaking phone call.

“Wait, Meyer, I hope this isn’t too forward but, are you going to be okay? I know you live alone and the apartments in Taylor Heights are famous for being small. Do you have everything you need for the quarantine? You’re good on food? Toilet Paper? Medicine?”

She turned around, standing in front of the door.

“I think so, thanks for asking. My place is tiny. I didn’t think I’d actually be quarantining in it, but I’ve stocked up and I’ll be okay.”

“How much can you stock up in such a small place? My friend Jason says he thinks we’ll be stuck until the end of May. Will you be okay until then?”

Meyer tried not to show the alarm at that thought on her face, but Nathan had learned her face well, and the ability to read it. Her soft brown eyes were like a window into her soul, kind and loving. He had found her attractive in her interview but didn’t let himself be swayed by her looks when he hired her. Her sheer determination to take a job that she was over-qualified for just to work for the company had won him over. Her chestnut color hair had laid softly over her shoulders, the day he had interviewed her but that was not what he had remembered most. Her lips, with their slight upturn and natural pinkness, he had found them irresistible. He thought about what it would be like to kiss her lips so many times, yet he never made a move. Although the spark had extinguished for Anabel, he would always care for her and that being said, it had been one of the reasons he had never made a move for Meyer.

“May? Are you sure?”

“Well no one is sure but, Jason works with the WHO and said all of New York is looking at a full shutdown until then. Will you be okay until May?”

“I didn’t think it would be so long. I guess I could always rent a car and drive home, to my brother’s house.”

“The brother in Michigan? Meyer that’s a terrible idea. Who knows what the roads are going to be like? Look I have a crazy idea, and you are under no obligation to take me up on it, but you are welcome to stay here if you’d like. I have more than enough room. You can pick from one of the three guest rooms. Hell, pick two,” he chuckled.

Meyer bit her bottom lip, a sign that she was thinking. Nathan loved that she did that, and found it adorable.

“Please, you’d be doing me a favor. Plus, it will save you having to explain how to log into the remote poral over facetime,” he laughed.

Nathan prayed she would agree, he was legitimately worried about her all alone in her tiny apartment.

“I don’t have any of my stuff here.”

“I could drive you over and help you pack up if you wanted?”

There was an awkward pause as both weighed their options, hoping to make the correct choice.

“Are you sure that it would not be an imposition?”

“Absolutely not. I would be so grateful for the company. May is still two months away and who knows what the future holds. I’d be worried sick at the thought of you alone in your apartment.”

“You’d worry about me?” Meyer asked, tying not to show her excitement that he genuinely seemed to care about her wellbeing.

“Yes. I know you don’t have any family here, they’re all back in the Midwest. What if you got sick or ran out of food, or there’s civil unrest?” Sensing he had overplayed his hand he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.

Meyer recognized the sign of nervousness; he always did that before he gave a speech. She wondered if the chemistry she’d felt between them more recently was actually something more. The optics wouldn’t be good office wise. She didn’t want people to get the wrong idea but what Nathan said made sense. No one knew what was ahead.

“All right, I’ll stay under one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You have to let me rent the room from you. The optics of this won’t look good, but if I say I rented the room from you it would look better.”

“Always the HR manager,” he laughed, “if it makes you more comfortable, then it’s a deal, but please know I would never ask that of you. You are able to stay free of charge.”

“Thank you, I know. We should get a move on if we are going to make it back to my place and back here before curfew.”

“Agreed.”

An hour and a half later, Meyer and Nathan had loaded up his Tesla with everything she’d thought she’d need. He had been surprised at the size of her place and had made a joke about needing to pay her more. She laughed, but the truth was she was already paid very well. The city was just incredibly expensive. Together they hauled everything into the guest she had chosen at Nathan’s. One wall of the large bedroom was all windows looking out over the park. It had its own on-suite bathroom and was practically larger than her entire apartment. The room had been decorated tastefully, in hues of tan, and white. The wooden furnishings in the room had been collected from Nathan and Anabel’s travels around the world. Nathan had left Meyer to settle in as he lied about some work emails he needed to catch up. Meyer knew it was a fib as she knew is inbox better than he did. None the less, she took the time to settle into the room. She felt relieved to share the quarantine with someone. In the back of her mind, she cautioned herself not to blur the lines of professionalism, no matter how attractive she found Nathan.

She emerged from her bedroom and instantly smelled something burning. Walking into the kitchen she spotted Nathan at the stove, attempting to cook dinner. He had not noticed her presence as he pulled the frying pan off of the burner and put it into the sink.

“Was that dinner?”

Nathan turned around at her voice, and his embraced smile set butterflies buzzing around her stomach. His nervous smile was his most handsome smile she thought to herself.

“I was. Normally I am better at this, I don’t know how I burnt that so terribly.”

“What was it? I mean before it burst into flames,” she laughed.

Nathan laughed too.

“Chicken, I think.”

“You think? When was the last time you cooked for yourself?”

“I won’t lie, it’s been awhile.”

“Ah the plot thickens, you needed someone to come stay to make sure you don’t starve to death after the all of the microwavable food runs out.”

They both laughed.

“No, I used to be decent at this. I’m just out of practice I guess.”

“I’ll tell you what, how about you let me cook tonight as my way of saying thank you for letting me rent the room? How does that sound?”

“Okay but I at least get to help. There’s two more chicken breasts that I had not incinerated yet, in the fridge.”

“Alright, chicken breasts, and what did you want to go with it?”

“Um, I’m not sure,” he paused, “yet.”

“Do you have any pasta?”

“Fresh or dried?”

“You have fresh pasta in the fridge? I didn’t order it?”

“No,” he said as he laughed.

“Okay dried then. How does chicken carbonara sound with mushrooms and broccolini?”

“That sounds incredible. I had the feeling you might be into cooking when I spotted your kitchen set up at your place. It was kind of intimidating.”

“I love to cook. Can you chop mushrooms,” she said as she set the container of fresh mushrooms in front of him.

“Yes boss,” he joked. “Would you like some wine?”

“Sure, that would go nicely with this.”

Nathan grabbed a bottle of wine from the bar in the livingroom and set a bottle of red and a bottle of white on the kitchen island.

“Ladies choice,” he said as he stood behind the two bottles.

Meyer turned and looked, “I think red. I know it’s chicken but I’m not a big fan of white, if that’s okay?”

“The Pino Noir it is then.”

She watched as he took the bottle of white and put it back into the wine fridge. He grabbed two glasses and came back into the kitchen. She continued cooking as he opened the bottle and pour them each a glass, and then brought hers over to her, setting it on the counter next to her. She turned around as she took a sip. The wine was delicious. She felt a wave of heat, not sure if it was from the wine, standing in front of the stove or being alone with Nathan cooking dinner for them. It was in that moment she knew she was in way over her head. She smiled as watched him meticulously cut the mushrooms, trying so hard to do it perfectly.

That night they ate dinner together in Nathan’s beautiful apartment and both felt the chemistry between them more strongly than they ever had before. After dinner, they played a game of chess, where Meyer beat him and finished the evening watching the news. Both were incredibly distressed at the information, as a nation, the pandemic had arrived and was taking its toll. Later that night Meyer laid in the big bed, looking out over the beauty of the skyline. This view sure beat the view of the white wall in her apartment. She wondered if Nathan was thinking about her like she was thinking about him, or if he was still thinking about Anabel. That night she fell asleep with two king-sized pillows tucked up behind her, not to feel so alone in the giant bed.

Over the next few weeks, the quarantine dragged on. Work continued, but there was less and less to do as the whole world seemed to be grinding to a halt due to the pandemic. Meyer’s family was glad that she had chosen to stay with Nathan. Meanwhile, she kept waiting for Nathan to bring up Anabel, but he didn’t, nor did she see anything in his inbox from Anabel, or a divorce attorney. She wanted closure for Nathan, and partially for her own reasons. Keeping things strictly professional was becoming more difficult. Nathan was wonderful, and if she’d let herself admit it, she’d fallen for him completely. Yet, she did her best not to let her true feelings show, as Nathan did the same.

As the weather warmed, and the first sunny days of June came along, the quarantine was officially lifted. On her last night there, Nathan cooked them dinner. She had been giving him lessons all through quarantine and he had been an excellent student. Meyer had enjoyed teaching him so much and would miss the nightly lessons when she returned home. Dinner that night was awkward, and Meyer couldn’t tell if it was her own perception or there was truly something “off.” Either way, she felt a pit in the bottom of her stomach all night. She didn’t want to leave, the time with Nathan had been incredibly special.

After dinner she scrapped the plates and began to wash up, she had volunteered. Nathan walked in and set the water glasses on the counter next to the sink, and she couldn’t help but notice that he looked sad. He lingered next to her and she glanced up at him, there eyes meeting. Neither of them said anything, both having so much to say to each other, but both too unsure to act. Nathan walked back out of the kitchen and Meyer began to load the dishwasher. The gnawing feeling that had been present all night, couldn’t be ignored any longer. She dried her hands and took a confident step towards the living room where Nathan was sitting with a book. She took a deep breath, knowing that she was taking a gamble on everything, and started walking. She walked into the living room and Nathan stood up. It struck her as an odd gesture, but she didn’t focus on it.

“Nathan, I am officially tendering my resignation effective immediately.”

He stood looking at her confused.

“What? Why?”

She walked up to him, “So I can do this.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought her lips to his. The feeling of his lips caressing hers sent an electric charge through both of them, and he pulled her in close as he kissed her back.

“You don’t have to..” he said in between kisses.

“Yes.. I… do..” she replied as she reached for his belt.

An hour later, Nathan and Meyer laid in a sea of discarded clothes on the living room floor, both in awe of the best sex of their lives. Meyer curled up next to Nathan, and rested her head on his shoulder, as she played with the curly hair on his chest.

“I only have two regrets,” he spoke up.

At the word regret, Meyer’s heart sank.

“The first is that I am going to have to find another assistant, and no one will do as good of a job as you do.”

“And the second?”

“That we waited until the last night to do this. What a waste of a quarantine,” he joked.

She let out a soft laugh.

“Can I make a confession,” he asked as he laced his fingers in between hers across his chest. “It has been so difficult not to tell you that I have feelings for you. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable while you’ve been here.”

“Really? Well if it’s confession time, I have to confess that I’ve felt this way for a while.”

“Ugh, we wasted so much time,” he said playfully. “Don’t go home tomorrow, stay with me.”

Meyer propped up so she could his face, “What?”

“Move in with me. We’ve already been living together for the past three months. Move in, for real.”

“What about work?”

“Well, technically you don’t work for me anymore unless you want to. I had a wild idea a few weeks ago that I wanted to float by you. What if instead of taking Melva’s position, if you come back to work as our second in command. No one knows this business better, is more committed, and would do a better job. What do you think of the idea?”

“Are you serious?”

“I am. I know I just threw a lot at you, and one offer is not contingent upon the other.”

Meyer, leapt on top of Nathan, and the air expelled from his body in a playful laugh.

“I take that as a yes, then?”

She nodded and leant down and kissed him as he wrapped his arms back around her on the living room floor.

I’m here by choice, I kept telling myself. You have a home to return to when this is all over. You decided to come here, and look after your parents through this, you’re here by choice.

My mom and dad were older when they had me, Ellie, short for Elliot, their only child. They were amazing parents, and I never gave it a second thought when the pandemic broke out and quarantine was rumored to start, that I would go home to be with them. Janice and Dan Miller, my parents, were in their early seventies. I called after watching a press conference about the city going on lockdown within twenty-four hours. I told them I’d be at their house before lunch tomorrow. My mother was thrilled, and I began packing as soon as I hung up the phone.

I lived in a condo in Chicago’s Fulton Market district, that had a beautiful view of the river. I knew returning to suburban life would be an adjustment. I was young, single and active, life in in rural Indiana was the opposite of all of those things. I made trip after trip, packing what I thought I’d need, for how long, I didn’t know into my Volvo hatchback. The car was filled to the seams with my belongings. The next morning, I grabbed my tabby cat, Homer, turned down my thermostat and closed the door to my condo. It felt like I was closing the door on a part of my life as a whole.

Homer sat curled up in his carrier on the front seat as I headed east towards the home that I grew up in. I pulled off of the toll road, just over the border and grabbed a cup of coffee through the drive thru. I had not made coffee at my place, afraid that’d I’d leave the pot on or forget to clean it out before I left. I pulled into a parking space and sipped my coffee. I had also gotten a bottle of water and poured a little water for Homer, into a small plastic dish. He wasn’t interested. I petted him while I sipped my coffee, savoring my last few moments by myself.  I pulled back onto the toll road after I had drank half of my coffee. Homer was not thrilled to be put back in the carrier, and he made his displeasure known as he hissed at me.

Three hours later I pulled into the small town of Murdoch, Indiana, the town that I had grown up in. The population was only about three thousand. There was main street and a few blocks of town, but beyond that, it was corn fields. At this time of year, everything was still dormant, and dead. Early March was always the bleakest time of year. The entire town was set in a twelve-block square. Most of the houses on Lincoln street, where my parent’s house was were Victorian. My mom and dad owned the house on the corner of Lincoln and 2^nd Street. The large white Victorian house stood proudly as it always had. My dad had always kept the best lawn on the block, and my mother gardened constantly in the warmer months. I always thought my house was the prettiest house in town. As I pulled up, I thought the house and yard looked a little tired, even for March. I tried to push the realization that perhaps it was all too much for my parents to care for in their later years.

I pulled my car onto the brick-paved driveway and looked over at Homer who slept in his carrier. I knew this was the end of time of my life and the beginning of a new part that lay out ahead of me unknown. I got out of the car, and the cold wind blew past me. I had left my coat in the back seat as I scurried around to grab Homer. My dad spotted me and came out onto the porch.

“Where’s your coat pumpkin?” he asked as I approached the front porch with its wide-planked steps.

“Hi Daddy, it’s in the back seat. I didn’t want to drive in it.”

I wrapped my free arm around my dad and held Homer’s cage in the other. He embraced me tightly.

“Your mother had been waiting for you all morning, she’s already cooking.”

We both laughed, and I stepped into the house in front of my dad. That familiar smell of the home I had grown up in was still there. It smelled of old house, years of freshly baked bread and cookies, and roses. Mom always had a vase of fresh roses on the dining room table, not matter the time of year.  I set homer down in the living room and went in search of my mother who was standing in front of the old stove. When they bought the house there was a stove from the 1950’s in the kitchen, and my dad hated it but my mother loved it. The stove was the most modern piece in the kitchen, and she loved her farm kitchen as she called it. She turned around as she heard the swinging door move between the dining room and the kitchen.

“Hi Mom,” I said as I walked in.

The room smelled liked homemade chicken soup, one of my favorites, and baking double chocolate cookies. I looked over at her brown stripped bowl that was about as old as her. The dishtowel laid over the top let me know she had bread rising in it. My mouth watered at the eventual meal of homemade soup and bread, with cookies for dessert.

“Hi Sweetie, how was the drive?” My mother asked as she set down her wooden spoon on the stove top and came over to hug me.

I wrapped my arms around her and embraced her, she was smaller, almost frail in my arms and it concerned me. My mother had never been a bigger woman, but she was smaller even for her frame.

“It was good, easy. It smells so good in here.”

“Good, I am making all of your favorites. The soup should be done shortly. Once you are settled in would you mind taking a quart next door. I made extra for the Mattesons.”

“Are they ill?”

“Not with the virus, Selah is still battling the breast cancer. I thought a nice hot meal would be nice.”

“Sure, is she doing any better?”

“She had a mastectomy and seems to be doing a little better.”

“Poor thing. Sure, I’ll take it over, let me get Homer upstairs and the car unpacked and I’ll take it over, if that’s okay?”

“Sure sweetie. Have Daddy help you. Now your kitty, he can have roam of the house. I’ve put litter boxes in the upstairs and downstairs bathrooms and one in the basement next to the washer. He doesn’t go outside, right?”

“Mom you didn’t have to do that, I brought everything he needs.”

“Well he’s family too, what’s his name?”

“Homer. He can’t go outside, he’s an indoor cat.”

“Okay sweetie, why don’t you go get him, I cooked him a piece of fish last night and it is in the icebox.”

Seeing the look on my face that she didn’t have to go through the trouble she shrugged and gave me the look not to argue. I went and grabbed Homer from his cage and spotted daddy, who had half of my car unpacked and scattered around the living room. I deposited Homer in my mother’s arms and went back to help my dad unpack.

Within an hour I was unpacked and had moved back into my childhood bedroom. My trophies from t-ball still stood on the shelf, along with all of the memorabilia of my childhood. Terry, my favorite teddy bear still sat on the shelf. I didn’t go anywhere without him for my first four years of my life. Homer had found a small spot under my bed and refused to come out as I hear my mother call my name from the kitchen. I tried to coax Homer one last time and knew it would just take some time for him to get comfortable with his new surroundings.

I walked downstairs and into the kitchen, my mother had wrapped up a large container of soup for the Mattison’s. I grabbed it off of the counter, the warmth of it still could be felt through the ancient Tupperware.

“Here take my sweater, it’s snowing again,” my mother said as shrugged offer her sweater before I could protest.  

I put it on knowing that resistance was a waste of time.

“Thanks sweetie,” my mom said as I walked out of the kitchen.

I stepped out onto our porch and looked out as the snow began to fall slowly, in big white flakes. The wind gusted and the snow fell heavier for a brief moment as I walked down the driveway to the sidewalk that. I noticed an old black Jeep in their driveway with the hatch open and I I thought I spotted Mr. Matteson pulling something out of the back as I approached. The man grabbed a box and a crate of records spilled out and onto their driveway. He turned to catch them and failed. It was not Mr. Matteson Sr. Henry Matteson stood in the driveway; his black wool coat collar pulled up around his ears. I froze with the warm soup in my hands, I had not seen Henry Matteson since the day that I left for college, broken hearted.

Henry was my first, my first everything and I was his. I had not stood face to face with him in almost fifteen years, and here he was. I realized as I clutched the soup harder that I was holding my breath. As he turned to pick up his records, he spotted me, and like the trance had been broken, I walked over and helped him pick them up. He righted the bin and set his records in it. I handed him the few that I held.

“Hi,” he said, “I was wondering if you were coming home to ride this out?”

“My mom sent some soup over for your mom. Is she in?”

“Yes, she’s here. Are you staying with your parents?”

“I’d better get this too her, it’s cold out here.”

I walked away from the open hatch of the jeep, and up the steps to porch of their house. Mary, Henry’s mother stepped out.

“Oh Ellie, it’s so good to see you! I would have come over and got that. Come in, it’s so cold out here.”

I didn’t want to go in, I didn’t want to be anywhere near Henry, I felt like I was entering enemy territory. I walked in anyway, not wanting to be rude to Mary. George, Henry’s father, stood as I walked in. He had always been very kind to me and was like a second father in a lot of ways. I followed Mary through the house to kitchen where I set the soup down on the counter. The kitchen had not changed from when I had last been in there, so many years ago.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, dear,” Mary asked?

“Um.”

Before I could answer, Henry walked into the kitchen.

“That’s probably not a good idea mom, we should really be keeping our distance from others right not.”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Matteson, Henry is right. I should go. But I promise, when this is all over, I’d love to come have cup with you.”

Slightly defeated, she conceited, and I gave a wave as I walked out of the kitchen. There was barely enough room to pass through the doorway with Henry standing there but I did anyway. I looked him in the eye as I did. I waved at George as I pulled the front door closed behind me and stepped off of the porch. The snow was still falling, and I pulled the cold air into my lungs. I had not been prepared to run into Henry. So much life had passed since we had seen each other last. I walked down the sidewalk back towards my house as I thought back to the day that I had left, the last day we had been together.

“El, wait.” Henry called out as he jogged down his driveway and caught up with me.

I reluctantly stopped and turned around.

“El, sorry, I wasn’t trying to be rude. My mom has a compromised immune system right now. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“I get it,” I said as I turned and walked back towards my house.

“El, wait, I haven’t seen you in more than a decade.”

“I know.”

“Are you mad at me, still?”

“I don’t have a coat on and it’s freezing out here, literally. Bye Henry.”

I turned and walked back into my house and straight into the kitchen.

“Mom why didn’t you tell me Henry was home too?”

My mother did not turn around as she stirred the soup.

“It must have slipped my mind, sorry sweetie.”

“Mary didn’t mention it to you?”

“Well she may have, but you know, I forget things sometimes.”

I knew she had not forgotten. To her Henry would always be the one who got away. We had grown up together. He was six months older than me and we had been best friends until high school until we became more than friends.

That night I tried not to think about the past and Henry as I ate dinner with my family. The soup and bread were delicious. After dinner I lied about having to catch up on work and secluded myself in my room. I shut the door and collapsed on my bed, feeling like I was sixteen again. I starred up at my celling, finding my favorite crack in it. I hoped my presence would coax Homer out from underneath the bed. When he didn’t come as I called for him, I got down on all fours and looked under my bed for him. He wasn’t there. I began to search the room for him, calling out his name. When I had searched my room and had not found him, I searched the entire upstairs calling out for him. I walked down into the living room where my dad was reading a book.

“Dad have you seen my cat? I can’t find him anywhere.”

“Oh, yes, I let him out after dinner.”

“Let him out where? He’s not supposed to go outside.”

“Sorry. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

I walked over to the coat rack and pulled my coat down and walked out of the font door. It was now dark, and the streetlamps did very little to light the yard. I called out for him as I began searching in the bushes around the house. I prayed I’d find him, and that he wouldn’t be hurt. He had never been outside before. I came around the back of the house and heard something rustle on the other side of the fence between our house and the Matteson’s. I stepped up on a rock and peeked over and was startled when I saw Henry’s face doing the same. I let out a small scream. Henry walked around the fence and into my backyard. He had a flashlight in his hand.

“I figured you were looking for a pet and might be in need of a flashlight.”

“My dad let my cat, Homer, out. He’s a tabby cat. He’s never been outside before.”

“Never?”

“I live in a condo in the city.”

“Ah. Homer,” he called out.

“I don’t need your help.”

“No, you don’t want my help. You could use another set of eyes if you want to find him out here.”

I walked off in the opposite direction, annoyed. I knew he was right.  I continued to search in the bushes along the fence as Henry went off in the opposite direction. As I searched, I heard a faint meow and I called out his name, as I pushed into the bushes at the back of the yard. I shined the flashlight on my phone around, and I knew he was close as I hear him meow. Hearing the anxiety in my voice Henry came back over. I continued to search around and flashed his light up in the tree.

“Found him, is that him,” Henry asked as he pointed to poor Homer, wet and stuck up in the tree.

“Oh no, how did he get all of the way up there? Come here buddy.”

“We’re going to have to go up and get him.”

I looked at Henry. There was no way to climb up the tree.

“I’ll call the fire department.”

“No wait, here, hold my flashlight,” he said shoving it into my hands before I could protest.

He wedged himself between the fence and the tree and began to shimmy up the tree. I watched nervously as he climbed higher and higher. As he approached Homer, my cat hissed, as if he sensed how much hurt Henry had been responsible for. Henry reached out for him and Homer hissed again. Clutching Homer tightly Henry began to climb down carefully. Watching them made me extremely nervous. Halfway down, and still about thirty feet up, Homer had enough and began to struggle in Henry’s arms. Henry slipped and Homer fell. I managed to catch him mid-air not believing my luck, as Henry came down too, landing in the bushes. I ran to the back door with Homer in my arms, and chucked him inside, pulling the door shut behind him as I turned and raced back to Henry. He was crawling out of the bushes, and I was relieved to see that he was at least moving.

“Are you okay?”

Henry looked up at me, wincing at the light of his flashlight.

“It wasn’t the first time I’ve fallen out of this tree, remember?”

I thought back to the night I had caught him peeking in my bedroom window. I started him and he fell that night too. I couldn’t help but laugh, and he looked up at me amused. I reached down to help him up and was still laughing. He got to his feet and I pulled him into my body to steady him. He smelled the same, his touch was the same, filled with familiarity and so much hurt. I pulled away.

“Sorry,” I said. “Are you hurt?”

“Only my pride.”

“Thank you for your help.”

“I’m glad you caught him.”

“Me too.”

“El, I need to tell you something. I need you to know that I never slept with Karen Lake. I never had the chance to explain. I came after you, to try to, and I chickened out.”

“What difference does it make? That was so long ago. I don’t think about it anymore,” I lied.

“It makes a difference to me. El, I think about you constantly about what could have been, had I not fucked it all up, and had more courage to set things right.”

“Just forget it, that was a whole other lifetime ago.”

I started to turn to walk into the house.

“Are you honestly telling me that you don’t think about it, about us what we had?”

“We were kids.”

He took a step closer to me, and I could smell him again, mixed with aftershave. I found the scent intoxicating.

“We aren’t kids anymore. I compare every woman I’ve ever dated to you. Every kiss, every dance. You are it for me El, you always will be.”

Something in my hardened interior cracked and I leant up on my toes, hooked my arm around his neck and kissed him. He instantly pulled my body into his and as our lips met, I no longer felt cold. His kiss felt like home, safe and warm. I kissed him with reckless abandon, and didn’t want to stop, like my will had been a broken damn, and all of the pent-up emotion I had for him flowed through my lips. I pulled away first as I remembered the pain of how things had ended. As if he read my mind he spoke up, “El, I promise you as long as I live, I will never hurt you again. I love you. I’ve never stopped loving you.”

I leant my head against his chest as he pulled his wool coat around the both of us. We stood for a long time silent in my back yard. So much history had passed between us, and I knew right then that I had been right when I left my condo, that life would never be the same. By April, I had an engagement ring on my finger. We planned our wedding to take place in my back yard.

As my dad gave me away, I kissed him on the cheek and turned to look at Henry, who stood proudly in his dark grey suit. Our few guests watched on as we took our vows, the boy and girl from next door, now the happy couple.

“You’ll be fine they assured me, just get in, close the deal and you’ll be home in no time,” Andrea had said.

I was dumb enough to believe her. Ignoring the media, and the risks I got on the plane and flew to Detroit to close this deal. There was a lot of money on the table, if one of the big automakers picked up our computer programs for their automation line, it would be a big win for our company. Also, when the Vice President of the company singles you out to go, you go. At the time, my apprehension about going just seemed like paranoia. Andrea was smart. The plan was to get in and out, with a signed deal. God, I was so stupid.

I have been stuck in this hotel room, quarantined for the past three weeks. When I got here, I felt a little under the weather, but I pushed on, thinking it was a cold. When I got to my meeting most of the board members who I would meet with had declined to come, due to the pandemic. A wasted trip I thought to myself. I went back to my hotel and decided to sleep off whatever I was coming down with, it never dawned on my I had caught the virus. I woke the next morning feeling even worse. I always carried a small kit with me, of a fever reducer, a thermometer, antacid etc., like a travelling medicine cabinet. I took my temperature which was high, 103. I took fever reducer and went back to bed; I was so sick I didn’t care to eat.

I was awoken late in the afternoon by loud knock at my door. I got up still feeling unwell and answered the door.

“Miss Lannert, are you alright, you missed check out? We’ve been trying to reach you by phone.”

I tried to piece time together, I didn’t check out until the next day. I was confused.

“What day is today?”

“It’s Thursday, March 15^th. Are you okay Miss Lannert?”

I had slept for almost thirty-six hours straight. I was so confused.

“I’m sorry I’m unwell. Can I book the room for another night?”

“Of course. We have a hotel doctor, I can have him come and help you if you’d like?”

The panic on the hotel manager’s face said it all, I was in trouble, healthwise. Normally, I would decline but I simply shook my head affirming to send the doctor, and closed the door, crawling back into the bed. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so ill.

The next time I woke, there was a man standing above me, with salt and pepper hair and a face mask on. Normally, I’d startle but I was too sick to care. He introduced himself as a doctor for the hotel and performed a cursory exam, stating that he thought I had come down with the virus that more than half of the country had.

“I’d send you to the hospital but they’re beyond capacity. I can start an IV here, and see if a bed opens up for you at the hospital, in the meantime we’ll monitor you closely from here. I need to know if you are experiencing any shortness of breath, blurred vision, or numbness in yours extremities. The gentleman next to you is ill as well, we will see which one of you goes first. Have you been in contact with anyone who you think might have the virus?”

I nodded I had not. He asked more questions, confirming his suspicions that I had the virus. With a lack of tests, and them being slow to provide results, neither of us pressed the issue. I scribbled my name across a consent form and he started an iv.

Before he left, he told me a nurse would be by to help look after me and the gentleman in the room next to me, but if I had any trouble breathing to call 911. I could barely keeps my eyes open and was asleep again before the doctor left my room. I woke in the late afternoon, feeling better than I had in days. My I.V. bag was almost gone, and all I could think was that the fluids had to have helped. I sat upright, like I was waking from a trance. I reached over from my phone, seeing all of the missed calls from my roommate Becky, work, and my parents. I didn’t want to worry anyone, I needed to think about what to say without terrifying them. I texted my roommate, then called into work, which exhausted me. I would wait to call my parents when I sounded stronger.

The next two days were a blur, as I slowly improved. I don’t think the fear of my condition helped any. On the fifth day of my illness, my fever broke, much to my relief. I began eating again, and slowly started to feel better. The hotel had been wonderful, making sure I was cared for and I was truly grateful, albeit terrified of my situation. After a week down, I finally felt well enough to get up and move around my room a little. I finally called my family and told them what was happening, as I hoped the worst had passed. I was still weak, but grateful to be on the mend.

That night as I laid in bed, the hotel seemed quieter than usual. At dinner, the nurse had come and removed my IV. I was grateful to have it out, needles had always creeped me out. Despite being exhausted, I found sleep eluded me. I tossed and turned, longing for my own bed at home, but even if I was well enough to travel, I wouldn’t have wanted to go home and infect my roommate, who was still healthy, thankfully. I heard a soft noise I couldn’t quite make out, I listened again, and it seemed familiar but I still could not name it. The noise was coming from the room next to me. I got up and listened, it was the noise was of a man crying. There was something about the noise of it that hollowed out my soul. I knew he was ill too, but I didn’t know much beyond that. I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure what to do. I knocked gently on the wall. He quieted, and I hoped my intentions had not been misconstrued. I wasn’t asking him to be quiet, it was my way of letting him know someone else was here. I pressed my ear against the wall and heard him still crying quietly.

The hotel was old but renovated and it still had a door that connected our rooms. I knocked again on it, not sure if I was nuts or not.

“Are you okay?” I called out softly.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He called out in return.

“It’s okay, do you need anything?”

The question seemed absurd, I was barely out of bed myself, what could I possibly offer a complete stranger. I pushed my ear against the door and listened, but heard nothing. I waited and listened, hearing only the sound of my battled breathing. Eventually I climbed back into bed, but the situation left me uneasy. I rolled over and dialed 568, the room next door, never expecting it to work. The phone rang and a man’s voice croaked,

“Hello?” he asked weakly, then coughed.

I regretted my boldness. This was a mistake, the guy next door was a stranger but, I was in it now.

“Hello, hi, I’m in the room next door.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, I wasn’t calling for that. I couldn’t sleep. I just wanted to see if you were okay?”

“It’s weird, this illness, isn’t it? At first you can’t sleep enough, so tired, and then you can’t sleep to save your life.”

I let out a small laugh, he was right.

“Yeah, I think I’ve reached that phase, I am on day 10. How about you?”

There was a pause, and I instantly feared I had crossed some unspoken line in our conversation.

“I am on day 11 or 12 I think, I couldn’t tell you really. The days at the beginning are sort of a blur.”

“Yeah, I have never been that sick in my whole life.”

“Hey, I don’t want this to come out wrong, but thank you for calling. This is so lonely being stuck in this hotel room alone, away from home, ill. It’s,” he paused, “It’s scarry, you know?”

“I do. I’m here on business.”

“Me too, where from? You don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to.”

“I’m in from California, I work for a tech company. You?”

“I’m in from New York. I think I came down with this on the plane. Had I know I was ill before I left, I would’ve never left.”

“Same here. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a lawyer, corporate law. Thank you for calling, it was very kind of you.”

“We’re all doing our best to survive this, you know?”

“I do. Tell me something good, something happy.”

His breath was more labored from the conversation, and I knew he was getting tired, because I was too. I didn’t know what to tell a complete stranger, so I chose the only thing we both shared in common.

“My I.V. came out today.”

“Thanks for that. That is good news. I hope mine comes out tomorrow. Thank you for calling, it was sweet.”

“You’re welcome, 568.”

“568?”

“It’s your room number, 568. I didn’t get your name.”

“Ah, clever. It’s John.”

“It was nice to meet you John, I am Isabell. Sleep well.”

“You too Isabell. Call if you need anything in return.

Over the next week, John and I spoke nightly. He was the only person I knew that shared this experience with me, thankfully. His voice on the phone became something I looked forward to, beyond the endless hours of television. I was well enough to work for short periods of time, but I found that I tired easily. John confirmed he was experiencing the same symptoms. We were both quarantined along with most of the 5^th floor for the next month. I was desperate to return home, but I also understood that I could still be infectious, and knew it was best to stay put.

We had spoken a lot about random things, and I noticed our conversation tended to stray away from the personal. I didn’t mind, John was a stranger after all. Curiosity finally got the better of me, as I looked John Hampton up on social media. His salt and pepper hair, strong jaw, and deep brown eyes were just my type. I saw that he had gone to Yale for school. His photos sported a string of pretty women at his side in the pictures. I noticed no one was pictured more than once. I couldn’t help but feel my neighbor was a bit of a player, yet over the past few weeks, I had gotten the impression that he was a decent guy. I laid on my bed and jumped when the phone on the nightstand rang, as I looked dug deeper into his Facebook page. I felt like I had been caught red-handed, even though there was no way for him to know I was creeping on his page.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Isabella. I was wondering, does anyone ever call you Izzy?”

“My mom does sometimes. How are you tonight? Any new weird symptoms since you seem to be two days ahead of me?”

“Thankfully, no. Can I call you Izzy?”

“I guess. How are you feeling?”

“A little better every day. You know it surprises me, even after all of these weeks I still tire easily. How are you feeling today?”

“The same as you. I am homesick today.”

“Tell me, what do you miss most about home, other than the fact that it is home?”

I paused in my response as I thought.

“Well my own bed for one, but I think I miss the ocean most of all. I miss it.”

“Do you have a favorite spot to view the ocean, or a favorite beach?”

“I have lots of favorite place, but more in general, I just really miss it.”

“You’ll get back soon enough, I promise. So, tell me something good that happened to you today.”

He asked me that every day, and I found myself thinking all day what my good thing to tell him would be.

“Well, there are new free movies on the movie system. I’ve never watched so much tv in my life, but I must admit my guilty pleasure, there is a new Jules Derry documentary I really want to watch about washer women in India.”

“That is good news. I met her once on a flight from Brazil.”

“Really, that’s so cool. What was she like?”

“Artsy. She was nice enough. I’ve only seen one of her films about the women from the Inuit tribe. I remember it, it left a lasting impression on me. So, if you were at home in Chicago would you have gone to the theater to see it? Are you a movie snacks kind of person or no?”

I giggled, “Yes and no. I usually buy my own popcorn, then sneak in Chardonnay. I know that’s weird, but I really like popcorn and Chardonnay together. I always feel like such a rebel. How about you?”

I heard John laugh, and for the first time I noticed I liked making him laugh.

“I’m the guy with the giant snack tray. I can’t help it. I came from a poor family, and as a kid I didn’t get to go to the movies a whole lot. If we did, we didn’t get snacks. Now as an adult I buy the whole counter when I go.”

This time he made me laugh.

“That’s funny, I can imagine you, arms full of junk food with a big grin on your face.”

“Have you been online stalking me?”

I had outted myself unintentionally, I laughed nervously. “I may have looked you up.”

“Well since we are being honest I looked you up too, it’s nice to put a face with a name.”

“It is.”

“What did you order for dinner tonight?”

“I haven’t decided. You?”

“I thought it seems like a good night for a burger and a beer.”

“That does sound good. And a good documentary.”

“I have a crazy idea. Feel free to decline, but would you like to eat dinner with me tonight, and then maybe we could watch that documentary, if you were up for company?”

I felt my stomach flip nervously.

“Okay. Are we allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not, we’ve both had the virus. We can’t re-infect each other and we aren’t leaving our rooms. If you don’t want to that’s okay.”

“No, I’d love to. My room or yours?”

I realize how forward that sounded and cringed inside.

“Your choice.”

“How about mine in a half hour?”

“Okay. See you in a half hour.”

I hung up the phone as a wave of panic washed over me. I had not washed my hair today or put makeup on in almost a month. I tided the room and made the bed. It felt strange to be inviting a man to my room. After the room was more presentable, I put some blush on and noticed my hand shook. I realized I was nervous. I knew it was crazy to be so excited, to have dinner with a man who was practically a stranger. I hadn’t seen another person unless it was medical staff, and they were in full PPE when the visited, in almost a month as well. Housekeeping left clean bedding, and towels outside our door, as we swapped clean for dirty that was bagged up every other day. Even room service left the food outside our doors. We were not allowed to open our doors until the room service staff had cleared the hallway. I tried to make my hair more presentable. I was naturally curly, and I normally straightened it. I pinned it back as best I could and put on lip gloss. I examined myself in the mirror, it looked like I had put in effort, maybe too much. I wiped my gloss off and reexamined. It was better, I thought.

I heard a knock at the door that separated our rooms. I felt a nervous flip in my stomach, he was on the other side of the door. I put my hand on the doorknob as I unlocked the deadbolt with my other hand. I pulled the door open and there he stood, before me, the calming voice on the other side of the phone. He had on a soft blue, button-down shirt, and jeans. He had rolled his sleeve cuffs on his shirt and wore a thin beard. I couldn’t believe that he was finally standing in front of me.

“Hi,” I said.

“You’re real,” he said vocalizing my inner thoughts. “I hope this isn’t too forward, but you are more beautiful in person.”

I smiled as looked down bashfully, I had always been terrible at taking a complement.

“Your hair is curly. On social media your hair is straight.”

“I normally straighten it. I am naturally curly. I haven’t really done anything with it because..” I gestured around the room.

“It’s pretty.”

I found his complement sweet. I could not stop staring at him, his eyes were the color of a dark cup of coffee. I felt like I was reconnecting with an old friend, even though we had not met in person until now.

“Thank you, do you want to come in?”

I moved out of the way and gestured to the tiny couch. Having him sit on the bed just felt odd.

“Your room is the same as mine.” He laughed. “I haven’t ordered dinner yet. Have you?”

“No, not yet, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to wait.,” I said as he sat on the navy-blue couch.

“I’m starving, so I am ready whenever you are.”

“Me too.”

I walked over a picked up the phone and put in our orders. I sat in the armchair in the small sitting area of my room and caught John staring at me.

“What?”

“Sorry, it’s just nice to be next to another person. I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s alright, I get it. It has been an odd experience, hasn’t it?”

“I don’t think odd is a big enough word for it. Have you seen the news today? Over fifty- thousand have been infected so far here in the US. Poor Italy, they are still in the trenches too.”

“I had to stop watching. I just couldn’t handle it. That is so many. It feels like the whole world is falling apart every time I watch it.”

“I lost my job today.”

I turned and looked him, the shock of his news spread across my face.

John shrugged his shoulders, “I’ll be alright. I always seem to land on my feet.”

“You know things are bad when America, is laying off attorneys.”

I wasn’t sure if he would understand that it was meant joke, albeit a poorly timed one. I was relieved when John let out a laugh from deep inside.

“I shouldn’t have said that, I’m sorry you lost your job.”

“No, it’s true. I’m going to have to leave soon. I can stay for a few may days but work will not be paying for the room anymore.”

“Oh John, are you well enough to travel home?”

“I’m going to rent a car and drive. I want to reduce expose to as few people as possible.”

“That’s a long drive, are you up for it?”

“It is but I can do it in one day, a long day, but one day.”

“That’s actually a good idea for getting home. I was nervous about flying, even though we aren’t supposed to be infectious anymore, I don’t want anyone to go through what we just went through. It would be a much longer drive for me though, and I’d have to stay at hotels along the way.”

“After I leave, can I still keep in contact with you? Maybe not nightly, but you know. Just keep in touch?”

“I’d like that.”

There was a knock at my door and I knew it was our dinner. I jumped up and waited on our side of the door for the room service attendant to clear the hall before I stepped out and grabbed the trays that were stacked on top of each other. They were heavier than I had expected and I strained at the weight of them. John came from behind me and gestured to grab them. I pressed my body up against the door so he could pass. I could smell him for the first time, and there was something about the way he moved that I found incredibly attractive. There was a moment, just a split second where he noticed me in the same way. The hair on my arms stood, as I felt prickles on the back of my neck. John carried the trays back to the sitting area and set them on the small coffee table. I sat back down on the chair and he sat back down on the couch. We ate our dinners and he was right a burger and a beer hit the spot. As we ate I realized that something special shared between us was coming to an end, and that realization was met with sadness.

After dinner, we sat on the bed to watch the documentary. Part of me wondered if he was doing it for me or he had a genuine interest in Jules Derry’s work. I tried to concentrate on the film but I couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to make a move. I played and replayed my reactions to his advances time and again in my head, so much so that I found it difficult to concentrate on the documentary. I had surprised myself that I would actually welcome his advances. It was so odd, John felt like a stranger. The back of his hand brushed up against mine. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or not, but I hooked a finger of his and he took the cue, gently grabbing my hand to hold it. I waited with bated breath for his next move, but it didn’t come. The sexual tension was heavy, and he still hadn’t made a move.

As the credits rolled, he turned to look at me, and my stomach did that nervous filp again.

“I know this sounds crazy, and I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m really going to miss you.”

“Not at all,” I said softly, “‘m going to miss you too.”

He leant in to kiss me and I knew it would stoke the 4-alarm fire going on inside me. He kissed my cheek softly and pulled away just enough to look me in the eye. Before I could make another move he pulled away completely. I had given all of the signs for him to go ahead, but he didn’t. I felt panicked, had misread the situation entirely? John got up off of the bed, his body language lingered like he didn’t want to leave.

“I need to go. Thank you for tonight.”

Before I could respond he turned and walked out closing the door between our rooms behind him. I was so confused. I reached for the phone to call him and then stopped. I wondered if I had offended him somehow. I put the phone back down on the receiver and sat in silence. His room was silent as well. After a while I got up and took a shower. I buttoned my pajama top and looked in the mirror after my shower still confused. I had to know. I walked over to the hotel door and knocked gently. I didn’t hear any movement and wondered if he was asleep. I knocked again, deciding this would be my last attempt tonight. I heard his footsteps approach and I took a step back so he could open the door. He opened the door and stood there bare-chested, his pajama pants hugging his hips.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but I just have to know, did I offend you in some way?”

“No it wasn’t you. I’m sorry I left the way I did, it was rude.”

“What happned?”

“I couldn’t stay and not kiss you. Kiss you for real, not a peck on the cheek.”

I stepped forward into his room and placed my hands around the back of his neck and kissed him. I didn’t hold back. I felt his arms wrap around me as he pulled me in closer to him. I kissed him right there until my lips tingled. Kissing him was so much better than I had imagined. He felt like home, and passion, and warmth, and so much more all at once. John pulled away first.

“Wow,” he said in a whisper.

I leaned back in, and he pulled away a little further.

“Wait, Izzy, I really like you. I don’t want to hurt you, I have a terrible track record with women. You’ve been someone special to me, I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”

“Then don’t.”

“Isabell.”

“If you aren’t into me, that’s okay, I’m a big girl, I can handle that. If you are afraid, then what we have been through together is all of the more reason to take a chance, isn’t it?”

He moved his hands to either side of my cheeks as he brought my lips to his, kissing me, to the point that my knees wobbled. I had never been kissed like that in my life. We spent the night together in his bed. I woke the next morning in his arms and I knew something had changed for both of us, little did I know that it would be the first morning waking in the arms of my soul mate, my husband, the father of my children and my best friend.

My phone buzzed again; shit I knew it was him. As the woman wasn’t, I supposed to be the overly attached one in this scenario. I stood in my perfect kitchen, in my perfect house, baking cookies during quarantine, playing perfect wife and mother to the life I had built. Well, quarantine life was not what I had built, but like the entire world, I was making the best of it. We were in week three and both my husband and I had moved our lives from outside to inside. We both travelled a lot for work, separately of course. All that time apart left a human need for intimacy, so on occasion, I took care of it, sometimes alone, sometimes with company. My husband, Ken, and I never discussed it but I felt that he had done the same. My actions of infidelity weren’t weaponized, they just filled a basic need, nothing more.

I remember sitting in a cab in Prague when one of Ken’s flings called me. She was angry that he had broken off whatever arrangement they had. I had my suspicions that he was sleeping around but had not confronted them until now. In the back of that taxicab, his actions slapped me hard. The woman on the other end of the phone was hysterical, and something inside me told me that I was not going to play the victim, that I would handle this on my terms. I told the woman on the phone, “that’s what happens when you sleep with a married man. Never call me again,” and hung up the phone. When I got back to the hotel, I walked up to my room and changed into clothes to go out, like I was on autopilot. That night I got blindingly drunk and took some random man back to my room. Honestly, I don’t even remember his name. The next morning, with the worst hangover of my life, I kept waiting for the feeling of guilt, but it wasn’t there. I didn’t run home and tell Ken what I had done, I kept it to myself.

From that night on, when I wanted company, I found it, and although Ken and I never discussed it directly, I felt that he understood and was relieved. When Ken and I both happened to be home at the same time, it now took pressure off of both of us. My actions were like a relief valve on a pressure cooker between us, it just worked. After my first night in Prague, I did set some ground rules which I had never broken until recently.

Rule # 1: I never used my real name.

Rule # 2: We always got a room. I didn’t bring men back to the hotel where I was staying, nor did I go to their place.

Rule # 3: The guy had to be a local

Rule # 4: No contact information, exchanging of phone numbers, emails etc.

Rule # 5: Never sleep with the same guy twice no matter how good the sex was.

Paolo had not just caused me to break my own rules but smash them entirely. I met him one night in Seattle out at a bar. I was there on business and he was too. We struck up a conversation at the bar. He was in town for a musician’s conference and expo. He made bespoke guitars out of his loft on the West side of Chicago, the same city where I lived. Rule #1- broken. He had this indie rocker vibe going on, the night we met, with his chocolate brown hair resting on his shoulders, and a wool beanie on his head. He wore a beard, thick, and normally that was turn off for me, but that night it was working. The first night we slept together I made a mistake and broke my second rule, we went back to my room. When we got in, I popped into the bathroom to freshen up and didn’t think anything of it. Paolo spotted my papers that I had left out on the desk, seeing my real name, Katie Morgan, not Jenny Anderson, my fake name. This was rule #3 broken. That first night with Paolo I didn’t know it was possible to feel that much pleasure. It was the best sex of my life. The next morning when I woke Paolo was gone but he had left his card on top of my papers on the desk in the room. I went on with life, often thinking about him and that night, wondering if it had been my imagination or if the sex had really been that good. I wanted to see him again and challenge my own perceptions of that night. Ken had a birthday coming up and had always dabbled with the guitar. I decided to buy him a new bespoke guitar and I knew who to buy it from. I called Paolo to see about ordering a guitar for Ken and was surprised when he remembered me. We arranged a time when I could come to the warehouse and pick out the elements for Ken’s birthday gift.

Two weeks later I drove over to the warehouse on the west side of the city. It didn’t look like much from the outside. I knocked on the nondescript green metal door, hoping that someone would hear me. I had butterflies in my stomach the entire drive over. I knew this was a bad idea but I had not been able to help myself. The door jerked open and there Paolo stood in the daylight, in the same city I lived in, knowing my actual name, and he was just as handsome as he was the on the night we had met. He smiled as he invited me in. The warehouse smelled of wood, as various workstations had been abandoned for a lunch break. There were numerous guitars in various states of construction. Paolo showed me around the shop floor. I noticed his hands, how he moved, it all felt like a mating dance. I picked out the materials for Ken’s guitar, feeling the whole scene was surreal, as he backed me up against the brick wall in the shop. We barely made it to his office before we were ripping clothes off of each other. He fucked me on his desk, it was the most erotic moment of my life.

Sleeping with Paolo soon became a regular occurrence when I was home, and that unnerved me. I only stepped out of my marriage while travelling, and when the need arose, not at home in the city I lived with my husband. Paolo could do things to my body that I didn’t even know it could do, and I found myself addicted to his touch. I felt untethered to reality when I was with him like I wasn’t in control of anything, and that scared me. One night as we lay in his bed, in his apartment in the top floor of the warehouse, I mentioned that I had to go to London for work for the next two weeks and that it would be a while before I could see him again. It was my way of putting some distance between us, this arrangement was turning into something else quickly and it unnerved me.

Two days after I arrived in London, on a Friday night, I came back to the hotel to find Paolo standing out front. Seeing him there scared me. I kept my feelings to myself. We did not leave the room for the entire weekend, neither of us able to satisfy the need for each other’s bodies long enough to consider leaving. That Monday, when I went off to work, as I walked down the wet sidewalk, I knew I was in trouble with Paolo. This felt like an affair, not something transactional, satisfying a need. I knew I needed to end it. I told myself when I got back to the hotel that evening I would. That night I fell into bed with him again and didn’t end it.

We flew back home to Chicago early, due to the virus that was spreading, as there was a rumor that the borders would be closed. As we sat on the flight together, and it was clear to me that he had fallen in love with me. I had feelings for him too but mine did not match. I still loved my husband and had made very clear from the beginning of the tryst that I was married and had no intention of leaving my husband. I went back to the warehouse with Paolo that night and ended things, I had to, the situation was swallowing me up whole.

The next week was a blur, with quarantine lockdown coming into effect. Ken and I both had our jobs move from out in the world to inside our own home. Our three school-aged sons were home too. I found it odd how easily I slid into the life of devoted mother and wife, but I felt like a fraud. Paolo had called and texted begging me to come back to him. I knew as I looked at my phone buzzing on the edge of the counter, it was him calling. I transferred the hot chocolate chip cookies off of the baking tray onto a cooling rack trying to ignore the call. I felt a pang of guilt to cut him out of my life so swiftly, as I sent the call to voicemail.

That evening as I made dinner my phone rang and rang. I eventually had to turn it off, as I made dinner. Ken and I watched a movie after we put the kids to bed. I poured myself another glass of wine as Ken announced he was going upstairs to bed. It wasn’t until the house was quiet that I was brave enough to turn my phone back on. I sipped my wine as I listened to Paolo’s voicemails. His voice was raspy as he said he had come down with a cold. He professed his love for me over and over again. I was so tempted to text him, I felt terrible, I had not intended for things to get so complicated. I stared down at my phone, taking one last drink of the wine in my glass. I typed, “I’m sorry.” I stared at it trying to think through what my actions would cause. I had unintentionally done enough damage. I erased my text and went up to bed.

That night I slept poorly. I dreamt of Paolo and me together. I was happy in my dream. I woke the next morning feeling unrested and conflicted. I dug into my work for the day, as Paolo kept calling. I found that part of me wanted to pick up the phone and talk to him, to make it right, but deep down I knew I couldn’t. I wasn’t going to leave Ken. I loved my husband and had always made that clear. The whole world seemed so surreal, with everyone at home, sheltering in place from the virus, and me going through a breakup. I debated whether or not to tell Ken. We had the sort of marriage where I knew I could tell him anything, but during a quarantine was not the best timing I thought to myself. Over the next two weeks, the Paolo stopped calling and I was relieved.

I was making dinner one evening about a month later, watching the kids play in the back yard through the kitchen window when Ken came in. He came up next to me and kissed me on the cheek, putting his arms around me. It felt wonderful, right, to be in my husband’s arms. I stirred the chilli and I hugged his arms across my chest. I could hear our children laughing out in the back yard. There was something in Ken’s body language that was off. I took the spoon out of the chilli and set it on the spoon rest as I turned around. Ken walked over to the small bar in the family room and poured us each a drink. He brought the two glasses over and set them on the kitchen table.

“We need to talk,” he said.

My stomach sank, as I knew Paolo had to have contacted my husband. I tried not to tremble as I walked across the kitchen and sat down next to him. He slid my glass over to me.

“I have something I need to tell you and I am not sure how you’re going to react.”

I stared at him blankly, trying to give him my bed poker face.

“Paolo passed away.”

I sat there still, unsure how to react.

“His family asked that you get this letter he wrote to you,” Ken said as he took it out of his back pocket and slid it across the table.

My hand shook as I reached out for it.

“Did you read it,” I asked as my voice cracked.

“No, but I did know about him, that you two had a fling.”

“You knew?”

“Yes, one of the kids scratched the guitar you gave me. I took it back to him to have it fixed. I walked into his office and it smelled like you, your perfume was still in the air. I asked him outright, if he was sleeping with you. He didn’t hide from it, he answered that he was and that he was in love with you.”

Ken took a sip of his whiskey.

“I didn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure if you felt the same for him.”

“I didn’t. I’m sorry, this mess is my fault. What happened?”

“He died from the virus.”

I felt the tears on my cheeks before I even realized I was crying.

“Did you love him?”

“N..no, not like I love you.”

“He called me a few weeks back when you got back from London and told me he was going to ask you to marry him.”

“What? No, he never asked, I wouldn’t have let him. Why didn’t you say anything to me about this?”

“I wanted you to be free to make your own decision. I love you but I wasn’t going to make you stay with me.”

I picked up my glass that he had set in front of me and drank the whole pour in one massive gulp.

“Do you want to stay with me?”

“Katie I love you and I am not going anywhere. This time together with all of us home and put things in a different light. I am not going to sit here and pretend to be the model husband. I know you know about my own infidelity. It just seemed when things were so busy that it was just the way things needed to be. I realize now, being together like this, that maybe it isn’t worth it, this life we’ve chosen.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I want you, all of you. I want us to be together. I want to reevaluate things. What are we doing? We’re never here for our kids, each other… What so we can have a membership to the country club we never go to? I want things to change, this time has given us a glimpse of what life can be like if we choose it.”

I sat silently as I wondered when our priorities had changed so drastically.

“Will you read the letter, I don’t think I can?”

I slid it back across the table, and Ken picked it up. I watched him open the envelope and he unfolded the letter. I scanned his face for any emotion as he read it. He finished reading and folded putting it back into the envelope.

“He saw what an amazing person you are too. He really loved you.”

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, as Ken put his and over my hand that rested on the table. Our kids burst through the back door and ran through the kitchen as our son, Trevor stopped, noticing I was crying.

“What’s wrong with mom,” he asked?

“A friend of her’s passed away. Go play.”

“I’m sorry about your friend mom,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen after his brothers.

I stood up and Ken rose too. I wrapped my hands around him and there was a split second where I wondered if he’d reciprocate, when he did, I was filled with relief. He kissed the top of my head.

“Let’s change some things. You’re right, this isn’t the life either of us willingly signed up for. We’ve been walking these paths in our careers not looking at the true cost. I want to fix this. You are the most amazing man, I’ve ever met. How you can stand here holding me right now after all of this…”

“I love you Katie.”

“I love you too.”