Chapter 17 Burned out
CHAPTER 17: Burned out
Vera
Silas stepped fully into the room…and stopped.
His gaze moved slowly, deliberately, over the king sized bed, the rose petals scattered across it with careless enthusiasm, the candles flickering softly against the walls.
For a moment, he looked genuinely confused.
Then the confusion fizzled out, giving way to something grim.
His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking, his lips flattened into a thin line that said everything I needed to know.
Whatever this meant, it wasn’t something he asked for, or had an idea about.
At that point in time, I wanted to disappear.
I stood frozen near the wall, my face burning, my hands clenched so tightly at my sides, fingers digging so deep into my palm that it almost numbed from the ache.
I felt like I had been caught in something shameful, even though I had done nothing at all.
At the speed of lightning, Silas turned sharply toward the buzzer on the wall.
“Get in here now,” he said.
The next few seconds were almost unbearable. Now the romantic decorations had become a giant elephant in the room…sucking up space and air.
There was a knock on the door.
The maid, who had just exited, nearly jumped out of her skin as she hurried back in.
“Yes, sir?”
“Who did this?” His voice was calm, but it was eerily cold, and pissed.
She swallowed hard, her eyes darting briefly to me before returning to him.
“The staff, sir. We thought it would be nice. To congratulate you and your wife.”
The word landed awkwardly in the room.
Silas took a harsh intake of breath, his jaw tightening. He was trying to control his temper.
“Remove it. All of it. Now.”
She stiffened, her eyes darting briefly towards me again.
“Immediately, sir.”
With the speed of lightning, she moved toward the bed, hands already reaching for the petals, but Silas’s gaze flicked in my direction.
I must have looked exactly how I felt, utterly spent, rigid, flushed, the exhaustion I could no longer hide, clearly visible.
“Stop,” he said.
The maid froze.
“Do it in the morning,” he added. “My wife needs to rest.”
She nodded rapidly. “Yes, sir.” She bowed slightly, “so sorry about this, madam.” Then she hurried out, closing the door behind her.
Silence followed.
After her departure, it finally clicked. She was the same maid that served me the food and drink the last time I was here.
The silence stretched further, dense, deafening and choking.
I was painfully aware of my position, still standing uselessly near the wall, unsure where I belonged in a room that suddenly felt too small.
Silas began to move around the room, shrugging off his jacket with measured movements, loosening his tie as if this were any other night…nothing out of the ordinary.
The intimacy of the gesture made my nerves tighten. I felt like I was intruding on his privacy.
I didn’t move…didn't make a sound. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do, or say at this point.
Was I supposed to be here at all?
I was hoping the maid made a mistake and would be returning to take me to my room. But I couldn't understand what was going on.
Still Silas didn’t look at me, didn't say a word. His attention was still on his phone, scrolling, typing, detached.
Then he crossed the room, opened his laptop at the desk near the window, and sat. He undid the top buttons of his shirt, still focused on the screen.
“You can freshen up and get some rest,” he said, eyes on the screen. “Bathroom’s through that door.”
My brows furrowed. I hesitated, words tangling in my throat.
“Will…will we be sharing the same room?” I asked finally.
His fingers paused over the keyboard.
I swallowed heavily.
Slowly, he turned in my direction and looked at me fully for the first time since entering the room.
“You won’t be staying in another room,” he said evenly.
My stomach tightened.
“I thought—”
“We can’t afford even the staff speculating,” he interrupted, not unkindly, but firmly.
He had a point, but it didn’t make this less daunting.
Silas made me nervous, tense, and a whole lot of other emotions I didn’t understand. The man had an intimidating and overwhelming presence.
How was I supposed to survive two years in close proximity… probably sharing a bed with him.
He stared at me. “It’s nothing personal. A slight frown formed on his brow. “And you can rest assured that nothing is going to happen.” His gaze was steady, unwavering. “That was part of our agreement.”
I searched his face, and found nothing.
I was too tired and drained to argue.
“Alright,” I said quietly.
As soon as I thought of finally having a shower and getting some deeply craved sleep, I remembered that my luggage was yet to arrive.
Lily was supposed to arrive with them.
“Silas, has my sister arrived?”
“No. Chauncey sent a text,” he said. “They had to make a detour. Your sister wanted ice cream.”
“Oh,” I breathed.
“Is there a problem?”
“She has my luggage,” I said, heat creeping back into my face. “I don’t have anything to change into.”
He regarded me for a moment. I knew what he was thinking. The wedding dress was definitely not suitable for sleep.
He stood, and disappeared into what seemed to be his closet.
After a few seconds of rustling and shuffling, he emerged, a shirt in his hand, dark, crisp, unmistakably his.
“Use this,” he said, holding it out. “You can't sleep in that. Your luggage should be here in the morning.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, taking it carefully.
I went into the large exquisite bathroom and stripped away the suffocating dress, stepping under the spray of hot water.
I scrubbed away the day as best I could, but exhaustion clung to me like a second skin. My mind was blank, and all I could think about was hitting the sacks.
When I stepped out, his shirt hung loosely on me, the fabric carrying a faint scent…that scent of his that had become familiar to me.
The shirt stopped mid-thigh, and I was uncomfortable, dragging it down, as I had no underwear on.
I padded quietly back into the room.
Instinctively, I moved toward the couch.
“Take the bed,” he said without looking up from his laptop. “I’ll use the couch.”
“Won't you—”
“Go to bed, Vera,” he said in a hoarse voice, almost as if he was restraining himself.
I hesitated, then nodded, too worn out to protest.
I climbed into the huge bed and slid beneath the covers. The mattress was soft and the sheet was cool against my skin. All the tension and nerves finally loosened as sleep began to pull me under.
I was drifting, almost gone, when his phone rang.
Silas answered softly, his voice lower now.
“Natalie,” he said.
My eyes fluttered open.