Chapter 4: Solarium

CHAPTER 4

Solarium

Acouple days later, after another awkward weekend of walking on eggshells with Adam at the apartment, I was still shaken by everything Margot had divulged. I was glad to have so much more insight into Leo, but I felt guilty that none of the information had come directly from him.

I was surprised Margot had been so open with me. Maybe she thought it would be better for Leo if I knew. That way, he didn’t have to talk about all the things he clearly preferred to leave in the past.

How would he feel if he knew Margot had been so open about his history? If I found out Leo went to my parents or my sister, Sloan, to learn more about me, I would definitely be upset…but if they’d gone to him…it wouldn’t be as cut and dry.

Still, my discussion with Margot weighed heavily on me.

Leo was out for lunch with his Uncle William, who Margot informed me was not in fact Leo’s actual uncle, but rather his father’s old business partner. Margot also confided that she suspected he was the angel investor who had helped Leo get his own consulting business off the ground.

My introduction to William Mitchell was brief.

With broad shoulders, a square jaw, and a full head of salt-and-pepper hair, he looked the part of a wealthy businessman and investor. To me, every bit of him screamed old money. But he was just as polite as he was well-dressed, and apologized for the hurried meeting as Leo practically pushed him out the door, saying they’d miss their lunch reservation if they didn’t leave right away.

I wondered what Leo was so worried about. Would William be as loose-lipped as his aunt? After all, if Leo and William were as close as Margot made it seem, William would have even more insight into Leo’s recent history, as Margot and her nephew had only reconnected when she’d reached out asking him to make amends with his father. More than a decade of Leo’s life had been lost to Margot, but William had been there every step of the way.

But then, I thought about what Danny had said after meeting Margot, that he was wary of people of a certain class. Was Leo afraid of what impression William would make on me? Or perhaps he didn’t want William to have too much time to assess me? I suppose I’d never know—for the most part, Leo was still a closed book.

Rather than dwell on the clumsy interaction, I made myself busy checking things off my ever-growing to-do list. I had just come down the back stairs after taking some measurements for the upcoming flooring contractors when I spotted something amiss.

At first, I could only deduce that there was something off on the main floor. Then I realized it was the lighting that was brighter.

And it was brighter because the door to the solarium at the far end of the house was wide open…

The house in which I was supposed to be completely alone.

“Leo?” I called out. I waited a minute for a response, but heard nothing.

“Hello?” I tried once more.

Nothing.

I audibly gulped, before slowly making my way across the home, walking toward the north hallway, which was off-limits, per Leo’s strict instructions—his one rule.

At first I told myself that I would just close the door, but like a moth to a flame, and without anyone else around, I found myself passing through the threshold, my stomach sinking as I broke the invisible barrier to the previously forbidden room.

I reasoned that I probably should check the room for drafts, or the door for damage, to fix whatever had caused it to unlatch itself. The mission made me feel better about entering the room, but the twist in the pit of my stomach telling me that it was wrong to be in there refused to subside. The room’s atmosphere made me want to run far from Willowbrooke.

Like the turreted master above the solarium, the room was almost a complete circle, with straight edges only near the entrance, where the room adjoined the rest of the house and connected to a jack and jill bathroom that passed through to Leo’s bedroom. The hardwood floors, in the same herringbone pattern I had discovered across the rest of the house, were on full display. I wondered why this was the only place in the entire house that had been spared from the 80’s carpet installation.

Immediately upon entering, I was hit with the standard sterile and antiseptic smell that immediately transports anyone who has been to a hospital spiraling back into some trauma that took place within the walls of a medical facility. For me, it was the memory of my grandmother dying when I was ten.

My parents had ushered me and Sloan into the room where she was drawing her last breaths, a husk of herself from the few memories I had of her from an earlier age. She was already in an induced coma, and we were instructed to say our goodbyes, assured by Mom and Dad that she could hear us, even though she looked like she was sleeping.

I hadn’t managed any words through my tears, not understanding exactly what had happened to her, but knowing just enough to realize I wouldn’t see her again after we left the room.

Sloan, ever the perfect daughter and half automaton, had told Grandma how much she loved her and that she would miss her, but that they would see each other again in heaven. She thanked her for always taking us out to ice cream, even though Mom told her not to. My mother frowned at this discovery. I was pleased with her discomfort, but mad at Sloan for betraying Grandma’s trust.

I guess a twelve-year-old Sloan understood that the secret no longer mattered. Then she told Grandma it was okay for her to go, that we’d be okay, and that she knew Grandma would always watch over us.

Sloan’s words had sent me into another fit of sobs, which seemed to annoy my parents, as they profusely apologized to the nurses that stared or whispered while we made our way back to the car.

I have hated hospitals ever since.

It was one of the first times I remember feeling so alone and understanding how much of a disappointment I was to my parents.

I took a deep breath, shaking off the melancholy.

The solarium was sparse save for a wingback chair and George West’s expensive medical bed. The sheets were neatly and tightly tucked into the mattress, which was angled to help him sit up. A table on wheels was next to the bed, opposite the wingback chair, with a half complete crossword puzzle and pencil sitting precisely where George, or maybe Leo, had left it the day George died.

Everything seemed to be exactly as it had been before he passed. Curiously, there was a fine layer of dust over everything in the room, which meant that even Val wasn’t allowed to enter.

I caught the dust swirling in the afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows—the uncovered windows.

It hit me then that all of the curtains were open, which was why the light had attracted my attention from the opposite end of the house. But I knew for a fact Leo always kept them drawn, because every morning when I pulled up and every night when I left, they were closed—not letting a ray of light or a prying eye anywhere near the space.

Feeling exposed, and suddenly remembering the excuse I had given myself for entering the room, I began to go around closing the curtains, panel by panel. I had made it halfway around the room when I heard a noise coming from the hallway.

I turned to find Leo in the doorway, eyes ablaze, and William behind him, looking stunned. “What the FUCK, Penny?” Leo seethed.

Without warning, a flood of words and excuses spewed from me as I tried desperately to explain why I had disobeyed Leo and trespassed into the one room he had asked me not to enter. “I came downstairs and the door was open. Someone opened all the curtains. I was just trying to put everything back the way it was—”

Leo put his hand up, stopping me mid-sentence.

I immediately obeyed.

His eyes met mine—he was furious. “Get. Out,” he said slowly and deliberately.

“Leo, I’m sorry, I didn’t open the door—I know I’m not supposed to come in here—I was trying to help—” I tried in vain to make him understand.

“Get! Out!” he thundered, furious eyes still fixed on mine, silencing me.

I could hear my pulse pounding in my ears. I glanced between Leo and William. The latter looked helpless and confused. He wouldn’t come to my rescue and talk sense into Leo on my behalf. Why would he? He didn’t even know me.

Holding my breath, I made a beeline past the two men, unable to look at either of them. I could feel my face burning and tears pricking at my eyes. What had I done?

I cried the entire drive back to the apartment as I tried to mentally compose an apology that would somehow salvage my dream project and my relationship with Leo.

It dawned on me through tears that despite the growing anxiety over my decomposing relationship with Adam, I had never been happier with my career. I looked forward to seeing Leo and working on the house every day.

In a short two months, I had felt my confidence grow; I had thought I was forming a real friendship with Leo, and I was finding my groove. But now all of that was gone—in the blink of an eye.

Leo hadn’t even given me a chance to explain.

He had to know I would never go into the solarium without his permission unless I felt it was necessary. But that place—what had happened there…reason didn’t seem to matter to him when it came to the solarium or his father. And Leo didn’t strike me as the kind of person to easily forgive and forget. How could he welcome me back into his home after I’d violated him?

In an effort to protect myself, I turned my phone off. I was already operating under the assumption that all was lost, so when I inevitably got the call or email saying my services were no longer needed, I could face the consequences of my actions as prepared as one could be for that kind of communication, rather than allowing myself to be caught off guard.

I was wracked with guilt and an overwhelming sense of doom. What was I going to do? How was I supposed to explain any of this to anyone? I didn’t want to bother Mina, as she was out of the country, traveling with a new boyfriend.

I had no one.

Even though I’d left Willowbrooke early, traffic was backed up due to an accident, and it was well after dark when I finally made it back to my apartment in the city.

My day was about to go from bad to worse.

“Miss Abbot! Miss Abbot!” the doorman called after me as I trudged through the lobby.

He stopped in his tracks when I turned to regard him and saw my red, puffy, tearstained face. I said nothing, waiting for him to speak.

“I have your things in storage,” he said timidly.

“What things?” I croaked.

“Mr. Lewis asked me to place all the boxes in storage for you to collect before he left,” the doorman clarified, but I was still confused.

“I don’t understand.” I shook my head.

The doorman’s eyes widened, realizing I was clueless. “Mr. Lewis moved out today—he terminated the lease at the end of last month when he finally got that big promotion—you didn’t know?” He spoke softly, afraid to upset me further.

I let out a huge sigh and slumped into the nearest bench as I felt my legs tremble beneath me.

Things had been bad between us. I knew that.

I didn’t have the energy to fight with him. I had been waiting for him to tell me it was over because I was too chicken shit to do it myself. I didn’t think he would leave me homeless without notice, however.

And the promotion…I chuckled manically under my breath.

Of course.

I had been so wrapped up in worrying over how to break up with him that I had never thought to ask myself why on earth he continued staying with me. We weren’t having sex. With how much both of us were working, we barely saw each other. He was getting absolutely nothing out of the relationship, except a leg up at the firm.

“Are you alright, miss?” The doorman approached me cautiously.

My mind was spinning.

I had nowhere to go.

I took a deep breath.

I needed to take things one step at a time, or I was going to have a panic attack…I could feel bile rising in my throat, and I needed to calm down—to disassociate myself from what was happening.

“Do you have a dolly to help me get the boxes to my car?” I asked quietly, keeping my eyes trained on my sneakers, unable to face the doorman and his pity. I needed to take things one step at a time and focus on the tasks right in front of me.

“I’ll help you—pull into the loading zone,” he instructed me.

Begrudgingly, and careful to keep my balance, I got up from the bench and walked back out the doors to my car in the parking garage to pull it around the front of the building. The doorman was kind enough to bring all the boxes to me and help me load everything.

I was surprised at the lack of belongings. I’d never been much for materialism or sentimental keepsakes, but Adam, it seemed, owned everything we had shared. I was left with two suitcases of clothes and shoes, a few small boxes of books, and another couple with toiletries and miscellaneous bits from my nightstand and around the house.

My entire life fit into my car.

I felt humiliated.

I felt defeated.

I felt so small.

With little awareness of my surroundings, I just started driving. Running through everything that had happened, everything that I needed to do to find a way out of the mess I had created, and everything that had been taken from me.

I lost time as I drove.

As consciousness returned to me, I found that I was pulling into the long driveway to Willowbrooke. It was almost midnight, and I had no recollection of how I’d gotten back to where it all started.

Not wanting anyone to see me, I turned my headlights off as I approached the roundabout in front of the house and parked the car on the very edge of the driveway, hoping that in the dark, nobody would notice it overnight. It was so late, but I could still see lights on in the house.

I was debating if it would be a better idea to sleep in my car or try to locate a motel I could afford nearby for the night, when I was startled by the passenger door opening.

Leo West slid into the passenger seat, casting the car back into darkness as the door closed behind him, extinguishing the dash light.

We sat in silence for ages.

The only sounds were our breathing, and my occasional sniffling. I couldn’t even look at Leo; I just stared at the steering wheel in a daze, wondering if I was imagining him next to me. And if he was really there, why wasn’t he giving me a piece of his mind for going into the solarium against his order and then having the audacity to return, when he had been quite clear about me leaving the premises?

Leo’s coat rustled as he nervously adjusted his long legs in my compact car. I heard him sigh before he spoke, his voice soft, “I’m sorry.”

I froze, eyes still trained on the steering wheel.

“I was completely out of line,” he continued quietly but sincerely. “I was wrong to raise my voice with you. I couldn’t—I wasn’t in my right mind…” he trailed off.

I remained silent.

I hadn’t been expecting an apology.

I had been expecting he would demand one from me.

“I should have listened to you, instead of flying off the handle. I regretted everything the moment you were out of sight—you left so quickly, I—I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I made you cry.” The words seemed to physically pain him, not because he didn’t want to say them, but because they were true. He was remorseful.

“I’m not proud of myself—of my reaction. I deeply regret how I handled the situation—how awful I must have made you feel. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I hope you can forgive me.” He sighed, as if asking for my forgiveness was too much for him to hope for.

Still stunned at the turn of events, and reeling from all that had happened, not just at Willowbrooke, I found it easy to offer my forgiveness. “I’m sorry too.” I winced as my voice cracked. “Margot told me why you keep it closed—why you can’t bear to be in there.” I hoped I wouldn’t get her in trouble.

Leo nodded solemnly.

“I let curiosity get the best of me. I should have just shut the door and told you what happened when you got back instead of investigating.”

“Wait—the door—it really was open?” Leo sounded confused.

I chanced a glance over to him in the dark; only the dim light of the crescent moon illuminated the outline of his features. “Yes, and the curtains too. Someone opened all of them. I was trying to close them when you found me.”

Leo’s jaw clenched. “I keep the solarium locked.”

“Did you think I went snooping around your room looking for a key?” I half laughed, but stopped when I realized that was exactly what he’d thought. “I didn’t even know the door was locked because I haven’t gone near it—or your bedroom—in the last two months, at your explicit request. I would never do that to you.”

“I know that,” Leo sighed. “I just saw red—my behavior was inexcusable—”

“I forgive you.” I reached out, gently resting my palm on Leo’s arm, but retracted it almost immediately when his eyes met mine in question.

A tense silence enveloped us again. But hope began to bloom in my chest. All was not lost.

Leo was the one to break the quiet for a second time. “I tried calling after I calmed down, but it went straight to voicemail. I was worried about you. What made you come back?” he asked timidly, perhaps feeling he didn’t have the right to pose such a question.

A fresh wave of tears crashed over me as the impact of the evening sunk deeper into my bones. I didn’t even know why I was crying. I should have been relieved that things were over with Adam and that I hadn’t even had to lift a finger to make it happen.

Without another word, Leo reached across the console and took my hand in his to comfort me. His skin was warm and soft, a comforting blanket on the coldest night. Something seemed to shift between us, and my stomach fluttered hopefully.

Leo had been open with me, and now it was my turn to be vulnerable, despite my humiliation and foolishness. When I felt capable of speaking, I exhaled, then said, “The short story is that I was moved out of my apartment and have nowhere to go.”

Leo’s warm hand gently squeezed mine in support. “And the long story?” he dared.

I sighed, swallowing back more tears, trying to regain some sort of composure. “The long story—the long story is that my boyfriend—or I guess now ex-boyfriend—things haven’t been good between us for a while. I’ve been wanting to break things off, but I could never find the right words, or the right time…not that there’s ever a right time.” I rolled my eyes at my continued excuses.

“Why did things sour?” Leo’s thumb gently began to stroke the tender skin of my hand.

“Mina says he’s all talk, but no action.” I smiled sardonically in the dark at her astute observation. “We met at my parents’ firm. He was very charming, and things happened really fast in the beginning. But lately…” I sighed.

“He’s the kind of guy who can turn things around on you. He’s very flirtatious, and if I said anything he’d call me jealous and insecure. Then he’d apologize later and say he wanted to fix things. I wanted to believe him.” I ran my hands over my face. “But I’m an idiot.”

“No you’re not. It sounds like he’s been gaslighting you for a while. That’s a difficult cycle to break,” Leo argued, pulling both my hands back into his, silently encouraging me to continue.

I gave a humorless laugh. “Hindsight, Leo,” I chided.

“I knew things were bad. He wasn’t thrilled when I left the firm. The doorman said he gave notice after he got a promotion at work. Now I’m wondering if he was only with me to get ahead in his career. I’ve been walking on eggshells for months, but by the time I started working here, we barely spoke anymore—we were less than roommates.

“He was always out late with people at work and had constant plans on the weekends. I was never invited. But it was better when he was gone anyway.” I felt the truth spilling from me. I’d been holding in so much, even from Mina.

“Why didn’t you leave?” Leo asked quietly.

“I don’t know. I wanted to. I tried a few times, but he’d twist what I was saying and offer to work on things—to make things better,” I answered honestly. “I wasn’t strong enough to be firm, and I was…scared.”

I leaned back into my seat, careful not to sever the physical connection with Leo. His warmth was the only thing tethering me to reality.

“That’s—a lot,” he managed, shifting in his seat so his shoulder touched mine across the console. “I’m so sorry.”

“I had nowhere else to go. Mina is out of the country for the next two weeks and doesn’t have room at her place anyway. My parents haven’t spoken to me since I left the firm in September. Sloan—my sister,” I clarified, “she has room and would let me stay for a day or two, but would immediately rat me out to my parents, and I can’t take them saying ‘I told you so’—I might actually murder them if I heard them say it one more time.”

“And I don’t know if I even still have a job.” I grimaced, addressing the elephant in the room.

“Of course you do,” Leo said without hesitation. “If you’re still willing to put up with me, that is. I promise to never raise my voice with you again. Ever.”

“Thank you.” I sniffled, feeling a huge sense of relief at the confirmation. I might have been homeless, but at least I wasn’t completely destitute.

“And don’t be ridiculous—you’ll stay here, with me,” Leo said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, despite it being an invitation I never imagined I’d receive.

“Leo—I couldn’t impose on you like that,” I argued. “It’s going to take me forever to find a local rental I can afford—”

“Penny,” Leo stopped me.

I looked up at him.

“I should have been more clear. I’d like for you to stay here for the duration of the project.”

My lips parted involuntarily.

“I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner.” He gave a wry smile. “You’d be doing me a favor, after all—less of a commute means I’ll have more of your time at my disposal.”

His reasoning was paper-thin. But I knew better than to argue.

I had no other options. He was throwing me a much needed lifeline.

I could still look for something nearby on the off chance I found a place in my price range…which I knew damn well was going to be impossible.

“And besides,” he continued, “it’ll be nice to have some company.”

With that, he released my hand from his. I immediately felt the loss of his warmth and comfort.

“Pop the trunk,” he instructed as he got out of the car.

Without thinking, I obeyed, and watched silently as he grabbed two boxes and carried them toward the house. I hadn’t even agreed to his offer, but he had made the choice for me.

I followed quickly behind, dragging my suitcase across the gravel.