15. Ellis

CHAPTER 15

ELLIS

T he dark circles under Marina's eyes are darker than ever, I notice as she starts packing up to leave. We've been filming late tonight, and we started early, and Lila isn't happy. I mean, I'm not happy, so I can only imagine how unhappy a baby must be.

Marina places Lila into her stroller and sighs. I have a choice here. And I think I have to go for the chivalrous option.

"Hey, Marina," I say as I approach her.

She looks up at me, her eyes tired and vacant. "Yeah?"

I swallow, my palms sweating. "Stay tonight."

"What?" She blinks like she didn't hear me.

"I just thought it might be easier for you to stay here instead of going home and coming back again in the morning."

I'm trying to play it cool, but the idea of her staying here thrills me more than it should. Her staying feels like her saying, yes, we are something more than we're pretending to be. There is a bond between us.

A couple of the camera operators shuffle past us and bid us goodnight. We both nod tersely at them, then Marina turns her blank stare back on me again. "What?"

Slowly, I say it one more time. "Stay here. Tonight. You and Lila. With me. Make life easier."

She gives me a curious look, her expression finally shifting into one of understanding. Not quite a smile, but more than the blank exhaustion of before. I think for a second, in her hesitation, that she's going to say no, but then her smile widens as she makes a decision, and she says, "Okay. That makes sense. Thank you."

"It's nothing," I say quickly. "I have plenty of room here, and it makes no sense for you to be coming and going all the time with Lila. It would be better for you both to travel less, especially after a long day. It's the rational conclusion, really. It's nothing personal."

That's what I'm telling myself, anyway. It's a lie I'm not sure I can believe.

It's not personal. It has nothing to do with the fact that I've been feeling more and more affection for her lately, or that it hurts me to see Lila cry because she's tired and overstimulated. It has nothing to do with the dreams I keep having of Marina coming to bed with me, curling into my arms and us falling asleep together.

It's definitely not anything to do with that.

I sound convincing — right?

I guess I'm just getting used to having them around. The silence without them here in the night is eerie. It's been a long time since I had anyone who wanted to stay for any reason. It's not like I have any friends who would want to stay.

I have even fewer people who are willing to treat me like she does — like I'm human. I have people I know, but most of the time I'm surrounded by flatterers and sycophants, people who like me because I'm rich but who wouldn't be there if I actually needed a friend. Marina is willing to stand up to me, tell me I'm wrong, or that I need to do something differently.

She'll tell me that I'm being stupid. And that's why it's so easy to believe her when she's kind to me. She has nothing to prove to me, nothing to gain from being nice. I've already paid her the first installment, after all.

I'd almost forgotten how much a million dollars is to a normal person. I've been surrounded by people who aren't impressed by the number of zeroes in my bank account for so long, that to be faced with someone who's judging me for who I really am… it's refreshing.

It's making me want to be better, for her.

There's so much more to Marina than the scattered, dumb woman I took her for all those weeks ago.

I didn't understand it then, but if I can help her now, I'll have done good.

We've been filming for just over a week, and I've spent every day watching how Marina is with Lila. It's a love so intense that I barely believed such feeling could exist. Every time Lila cries, Marina is there. Every time Lila needs something, Marina gives it to her, even if it means sacrificing her own needs.

Marina would give the world to Lila. But who is going to give Marina the world?

I've been thinking that I ought to start one of my charities again, or at least put some more effort in. It's not like I need all my money. Something to help impoverished children, maybe. It would look good for the company too, to give more.

Maybe there's more to life than work, though.

Finally, the crew go, shutting the door behind them, leaving just the three of us here, alone. Marina has gone back over to the sofa, holding Lila against her chest. Both of them have their eyes closed, and Lila's mouth is open, her breath heavy against Marina's breast.

Not that I'm looking at her breasts. That would be highly inappropriate, of course.

Quietly, I head over to them. "Hey, Marina," I say gently, touching her shoulder. She jolts awake and I recoil away. "Isn't it Lila's bedtime? We can put her to sleep in her room."

"It's okay, I can do it," she says, shuffling to sit upright, grunting with the effort.

"No way. You sit here. I can tuck her in. You rest."

"Really?" she says, a light flush rising on her cheeks as she says it. "You don't have to."

"I've seen how it's done enough times now. Rest."

Without thinking, I brush my thumb over Marina's head, her soft hair flowing beneath my fingertips, my own breath catching in my throat. I scoop Lila up, cradling her carefully in my arms, and Marina smiles up at me. "Thank you," she whispers.

I carry Lila through to the nursery, and as we cross the room she starts gurgling as if she's about to cry. "Shh, please don't," I hush her, rocking her. "Let's go to sleep."

Her face crumples in on itself, but the second she hits the sheets, she realizes that she's heading for sleep, and settles herself. She must be so tired.

I wander over to the stack of books and pick one I haven't read yet. I still haven't come to find an appreciation for children's literature, but Lila seems to enjoy herself. One night, I had to get through three books before she finally passed out.

"Okay, ready?" I say, then launch into the tale. It's another of these vaguely rhyming animal stories, this time about a sad lion who escapes from a zoo to head back to the jungle. These saccharine morality tales don't do it for me, but seeing Lila laugh at my dumb voices makes it worth it.

Even more so when I catch Marina smiling at it too.

Lila soon falls asleep fast, and I sit with her for a second to make sure she's really out. Her little chest rises and falls, and it's hard to believe that someone so small will one day be a full person of her own, able to walk and argue and stay up too late.

She stretches her tiny hands and clenches them into tiny fists, and I sit and stare, unable to do anything but be enchanted by her.

All this time, I've never seen myself as the kind of guy who would ever have or want a family. After all, I'm not exactly dad material. Or at least, I didn't think I was. I've never cared about babies before, but I think I'm falling in love with this one.

Even though it's only been a week, it's going to be a struggle to let them go. Everything has changed, and after three weeks of this, it's going to be so strange, so empty knowing they're not coming back. I could do without the cameras, but not having Lila's laughter to light up the place is going to be a loss.

I'd even live with the horrible colors in my apartment if it meant I could keep them.

So much of this is outside my skill set, and I've spent so much time feeling utterly out of my depth, from painting to feeding, but every skill I learn for Lila feels like a gift. And none of it would be possible without Marina's guidance. Her patience is more profound than I could have imagined.

If I were as tired as she must be all the time, I'd be an awful person. I guess having a baby makes you selfless in ways you could never expect.

I blow Lila's sleeping form one final kiss, then tiptoe out of the room.

Marina is exactly where I left her, on the sofa, half-dozing. Quietly, I head over and sit down beside her, leaving a respectable distance between our legs. She cracks her eyes open and smiles at me.

"She's a good kid," I say, slightly to myself.

"Thank you," whispers Marina, her voice heavy with sleep. "She is."

She leans back again, against the cushions, her eyes shut tight shut, her hair forming an auburn pillow around her head, and she breathes out hard. I can see the pulse flickering in her throat, exposed and pale, and I have to swallow the shaky gasp that threatens to escape from my mouth.

She is utterly gorgeous.

"You know the other day," I start, my mouth opening automatically as if I have to fill the silence in with words. "You asked me about friends?"

Her forehead crinkles in confusion, but she doesn't open her eyes. "Mmm? What about it?"

I close my own eyes before my confession. "The thing is, I don't have any. Because I'm too career-focused. That's what all my report cards used to say. Too career-focused. Doesn't care about other people enough. I guess I never did. Not until…"

I trail off, and Marina opens one eye a sliver to stare out at me. "Until what?"

"Sorry," I say, shaking my head to try and get ahold of myself. "I must be tired."

"Me too," says Marina. "But you get used to that with a new baby. Having a baby makes you feel like you're never going to sleep again."

"I don't know how you've done it. Raising Lila all by yourself. You deserve a break. You need someone to look after you."

She smiles sadly, her eyes so tired and deep that I can't look away. "Wouldn't that be nice?"

A crackling energy passes in the air between us, a static charge that's been building for days and is just waiting to find its way to ground. Her lips catch my attention again, their soft, pink plushness practically begging me to kiss them, almost like they're crying out to me.

Almost like I'm about to have to stop lying to myself.

This is starting to get dangerous.

I didn't think I really had it in me to love other people, but with Marina, somehow it's different. It's a magnetism. It's unavoidable.

This is going to end badly if I'm not careful — or else the electricity is going to burn us both.