The Empty Space Next to Me

Chapter 2

Lying on the grass still damp from the dew and staring back quizzically at the familiar pair of gorgeous emerald eyes above him, Steve finds himself at a loss for words or explanations.

A warm tongue appears out of nowhere and sluggishly runs across his face. He looks sideways at the dog leaning over the side of his face.

Her features relax and she smiles.

"Looks like you got your kiss after all," she jokes then motions to the dog to move away. "Come on, Riley."

He doesn't know what to think right now but he can see Natasha genuinely doesn't recognize him. Or is it really Natasha? His emotions might have made him jump the gun. But before he allows disappointment to take hold of him and brushes hope away, he needs to investigate and find out who that woman is.

"I'm sorry," he shakes his head vehemently and gets on his feet. "I thought —"

"No harm done," she brushes it off with a wave of the hand. "Are you here to have a room?"

He pats his hands over the back of his arms and looks up at her with a slightly surprised expression. Then he remembers...the guesthouse.

"Yes," he trails off. "I haven't made any reservation, though."

It makes her smile. "We don't do this, here. It's not like we need to, anyway. It's pretty quiet around here, you'll get to see."

A bird endorses it by singing loudly across the quiet meadow.

"Follow me?" she asks.

For her? Anywhere across the entire universe. He opens the door of the car and reaches for his bag. They head towards the porch where the paint on the fence is crackled all over; the wooden floor moans loudly as he steps on it. There is a wicker bench with a small round side table next to it. A few plant pots are lying at the end of the fence and along the floor against it.

She opens the door in a creaking sound and he is not surprised when he catches sight of the paper pinned on it which reads a handyman is wanted.

The atmosphere is inside is slightly different: old but in a quaint and cozy way. She goes straight up the stairs, down a long hall.

"This is Mrs. Miller's room," she points casually a door as she walks past it. "Lovely lady, although a little too outspoken for my sanity. Don't worry about making noise, she's a heavy sleeper."

She finally stops to the last door and opens it. A bright room with light blue wallpaper, a King Size bed with a predominant navy-blue handmade quilt lying across the end of it — "quite fitting", he thinks ironically.

"Breakfast is at 8. Dinner is at 7," she recites with natural easiness as he steps inside and looks around. "I'll be downstairs if you need anything," she adds.

He spins his head around with a mildly disconcerted expression. Part of him is afraid of losing her again; the other half is anxious to keep her in his sight, always.

"What's your name?" she asks.

He gazes her intently. The scene feels bittersweet.

"Steve," he answers. Steve will be enough for now.

"I hope you'll enjoy your stay with us, Steve."

"Thank you...," he pauses.

Natasha smiles at him. "Katherine," she says.

He nods to himself and watches her close the door of his room before disappearing.

He's missing her again ten minutes later but represses the urge to go downstairs as he fears she will definitely label him a creep if he does.