In Love and Diplomacy

Chapter Nineteen: Brake Me

"Is your bedroom ceiling bored like mine?
Of you staring at it all the time?
'Cause it's seen so many nights where I cry and yell at the sky
For not telling you how I feel"

- Sody and Cavetown, "Is your bedroom ceiling bored?"

Thank you for 1000. I am at a loss for words and so grateful.

Chapter Nineteen

The colorful puzzle was almost fully formed, the pile of unanchored pieces steadily dwindling down day by day. When Reed wasn't in the office working remotely, he was either throwing a ball for Rolo or sat across from me, hunched over the puzzle in quiet contemplation.

I found myself avoiding the puzzle when he wasn't available to help. Instead, I contented myself with running on the treadmill or passing time with unnecessary cleaning. It felt traitorous to work on it alone. Like I would be stealing something from him, from us, if I busied myself in his absence with the muffled snapping of cardboard pieces.

It was startling how easily we'd slipped into a routine as we neared a week in the house. There were times I could pretend it was just a vacation, just me and my dog sharing a destination home with another vacationer. I could delude myself into thinking that across the hall was only another stranger seeking refuge from the hustle and bustle of daily life. And in those moments, I felt peaceful. I could smile at Reed and imagine a world where we met in different circumstances, one where we could have a weeklong exploration of each other and depart with no heartbreak when the vacation was over. We could go our separate ways, forever remembering the fun, uninhibited week we had with a long-gone stranger and carry the memories with a secret smile. We could go on with our lives. I could go home with a story to tell Kennedy.

Then Reed's forehead would tighten when the occasional car drove past our secluded driveway. Or Beck would call with a new bit of scarce information, proposing some theory or concern to Reed. Or I would remember something I wanted to tell Kennedy and Oliver, and be struck by an empty pang reminding me I didn't have that luxury. When that happened, I would crash back to the world I was stuck in. I would remember I wasn't on vacation with a handsome stranger in the room across the hall. I wasn't living a life with no worries in the world — I was in hiding because someone may or may not be targeting me. And I would really, really hate my life.

I constantly tried to remind myself it wasn't all horrible. There had to be a silver lining somewhere, right? I was having more homecooked meals than I'd had in my entire adult life, and I had more time to sleep than ever before. Sure, I still found myself tossing and turning most nights, but it was nice to know I had time to sleep if I could. That was a strange adjustment from early morning meetings and late nights reviewing casefiles.

Tonight was like every other night. Only restless twisting in the bedsheets, sprawled under the light waves of air swirling down from the fan. The house had been quiet for hours. Rolo snored softly on the bed next to me, but I could only stare at the dark ceiling, unsuccessfully willing myself to sleep.

I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't lie in my bed in the dark, exhausted but unable to give in. I couldn't pray for even a second longer that sleep would take me, only to once again be faced with no hint of success or relief. I had to get up.

I was silent and stealthy as I slipped away from my slumbering dog, opened my door, and avoided the creaky floorboards that scattered the way down the stairs. Every couple steps I paused, looking towards Reed's room, but his door stayed closed as I tiptoed downstairs.

I am stealth. I am 007.

I settled at the dining table, evaluating the mess before me. There were maybe a hundred puzzle pieces left. A quick and easy amount. It just needed a finishing touch to stitch the image together. I focused as I worked, my eyes tired and strained from working with only a single light on. I refused to turn on more; I wouldn't disturb the peaceful rest of the house, regardless of how elusive it was for me to find.