This Love | ✓

Part 2

Once Claire and I reached the top of the staircase, she turned left and I followed. She stopped at the second door and threw it open with a flourish.

"This is your room," she announced, beaming.

I stepped forward, my eyes roaming along the cream walls of the relatively smaller but gorgeous bedroom.

To the far right, there was a white queen-sized bed with grey bedding. A spacious walk-in closet equipped with a full-length mirror stood directly in front of the bed. A compact wooden desk occupied the far left, a white door situated a few feet away from it. The door led to a well-lit bathroom with a luxurious porcelain bathtub. Beautiful light fixtures with floral patterns hung from the ceiling.

The back wall of the bedroom had a set of French windows that led to a little balcony. I set my suitcase on the wooden floor and walked over to it. A gasp escaped my lips when I slid the windows open and stepped out into the balcony.

The view of the mountain was breathtaking. The air was filled with the sound of the churning ocean mingled with the occasional noises of cars and people.

Immediately, I thought back to the view from my three-bedroom flat in the heart of London. All I could see out of my bedroom window was another high-rise building. With a cringe, I recollected the strange thumps and moans that would filter in almost every night from the flat directly above mine.

Ew, stop thinking about that!

"Claire, this is so great," I gushed when she joined me on the balcony. "Thank you!"

"You're welcome, darling. Freshen up and come see me downstairs. I'll show you the rest of the house before lunch," she said, turning to leave the room.

I gripped the balcony railing and kicked off my shoes, a gentle breeze ruffling my hair. Sighing contentedly, I savoured the fresh, somewhat salty air. A few minutes later, I enjoyed a quick soak in the bathtub before heading downstairs, dressed in fresh clothes.

I found Claire setting up the dining table near the fireplace. The large table faced a set of French windows that led to an outdoor grill and patio.

"Hey, do you need help with that?" I asked as I approached her.

She smiled and said, "No, I'm almost done."

"I love my room, Claire," I gushed, straightening my black button-down shirt. "The view is unbelievable."

"You're going to love the view from the living room even more," she said as she walked me to the spacious living room.

I peered out of another set of French windows and whistled softly. From my vantage point, I had a beautiful view of the homes adjacent to Claire's. In the distance, a strip of the ocean glinted under the bright sun.

"House tour?" Claire offered with an infectious grin.

Ten minutes later, I had seen the rest of the house, including Claire's lush master bedroom, the sitting area of the second floor that had an even better view of the ocean, the two other bedrooms, the second fireplace, a media room, a huge pantry area, and the patio.

"Your home is beautiful!" I said as we returned to the dining table for lunch.

"It's your home too, Lee," Claire smiled. A moment later, she added, so quietly that I almost didn't hear her, "Your father would have loved this place."

She looked down at her plate and sighed.

Oh God. What if I'm right about her still being in love with my father?

"Well, yes. He would if he ever had the time to see it. Just last week, he looked at the showpiece on the coffee table at home, you know the one. It looks like a lady's body without the head and arms and legs and boobs?" I asked.

Claire laughed and nodded.

"It's been there for years, but he looked and it and asked me if it was new. He doesn't even recognise the furniture in his own flat, Claire."

It was my attempt at lightening the mood, but the last part made us both quite sad. My father worked so hard that he practically lived in his office.

After what happened with my mother -- I tried my absolute best to avoid thinking about it -- my father buried himself in work and rose up the ladder of his company to become the CEO. Since then, we hardly spent time together. In his attempt to fill the absence of my mother, he earned a lot of money and bought me everything I needed and anything I wanted. Supporting me financially gave him comfort. It was his coping mechanism.

We ate the rest of the meal in silence. Claire had cooked a delicious dish of roast potatoes and vegetable paella. For dessert, we shared an enormous slice of carrot cake.

I thanked Claire for lunch and went up to my room to take a nap. I settled into the comfy bed, squirming with excitement. My eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling as I fantasised about the places I would see and the people I would meet. I dared myself to hope that I would even make some friends.

Filled with hope and anticipation, I finally closed my eyes. A few minutes later, I was fast asleep, dreaming about beaches, mountains, and ugly showpieces.