Chapter 4
Wilbur didn't even notice the calls, so his friend sent a message. [Wally said he's got something going on tonight. We'll reschedule. Don't bother coming over.]
For some reason, Wilbur's heart suddenly skipped a beat.
He quickly messaged Queenie: [Queenie, Wally's welcome dinner got canceled. Why don't I take you out to that restaurant you've been craving?]
He waited two minutes, but still got no reply.
He sent another message. [Have you eaten yet?]
She still didn't reply.
He messaged the housekeeper: [Hey Dawn, what did you cook for Queenie today?]
Dawn Cox replied almost instantly: [Queenie said she didn't need me today. She's sorting out dinner herself.]
Wilbur frowned and turned the car around, heading back home.
The party hall wasn't close to home. Since it was Friday night, the highway was jammed with traffic.
The longer he sat in traffic, the more restless he got. He tried calling Queenie, but she didn't pick up.
Finally, he made it home.
He pulled into the garage, parked, and took the elevator upstairs.
For some reason, his heart was pounding harder and harder.
He opened the front door and stepped inside.
The living room was empty.
He spotted a half-eaten plate of oatmeal on the dining table.
Wilbur let out a sigh of relief.
He believed that she took his advice and went for something light.
He tidied up the dining table and made his way to the master bedroom.
He gripped the doorknob and twisted it open.
No one was there.
He was about to call Queenie when he caught the sound of water coming from the bathroom.
He walked over and, through the frosted glass, spotted a silhouette lounging in the tub.
He realized that she was taking a bath.
He lowered his head and chuckled, realizing how pointless his earlier panic was.
He walked over to the closet, took off his coat, and hung it up in the semi-clean section.
The sound drew Queenie's attention from the bathroom.
Her languid, drawling voice drifted out. "Why are you back so soon?"
Then the sound of someone getting out of the bath came.
Half a minute later, Queenie stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel.
When she saw Wilbur, she froze in place.
Wilbur pulled her into his arms and let out a contented sigh.
For some reason, all that uneasiness finally melted away.
"I texted you. Wally's welcome dinner got canceled at the last minute. I was gonna take you out instead," Wilbur said.
But Queenie was squirming in his arms, not settling down at all.
She kept her hand firmly against his chest, keeping him at bay.
Wilbur frowned, clearly displeased.
He asked, "Why are you not letting me hug you?
"Are you still mad about what happened this afternoon?"
He sighed, let go of her, and gently ruffled her damp hair.
He said, "It's my fault. I knew you hated it, but I still went ahead. I swear it won't happen again.
"I'll end things with those women for good."
He'd said these things more than once, but this time, there was a real sincerity in his voice.
Maybe seeing Queenie quietly shedding tears today instead of throwing a tantrum or making a scene made his heart ache for her.
Maybe, after everything he'd seen and done, he finally had to admit Queenie was the one his heart belonged to.
Queenie didn't really respond. She anxiously reached for her phone by the bed.
She shot off a quick text.
Wilbur felt something was off and asked, "Who are you texting?"
Queenie's hand shook a little as she gripped her phone.
"Well, it's a client. I've been chasing this project for weeks, and they finally said yes to the deal. I'm asking when we can sign the contract," she replied.
Queenie explained everything, then put her phone down and slipped past Wilbur to dry her hair.
Wilbur watched as she tried to blow-dry her long hair, making it all wild and messy. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.
He walked over, took the hair dryer and comb from her hands, and carefully started to smooth out her tangled hair for her.
Queenie looked lost in thought, almost absent-minded.
After drying her hair, Wilbur placed his hands gently on her shoulders from behind, rested his chin on her head, and spoke again. "I mean it."
Queenie hesitated, her face clouded with confusion.
"What?" she asked.
Wilbur felt a bit frustrated that Queenie wasn't paying attention, but he repeated himself, "I'm serious. I'm really ending things with those women.
"I won't ever let you feel wronged again. I promise."
But Queenie didn't react the way he'd imagined. There was no sign of being overjoyed, not even a flicker of excitement.
Even her eyes, which used to turn a bit teary whenever he apologized, were unusually calm tonight.
She still looked like her mind was somewhere far away.
That anxious feeling he'd managed to shake off suddenly came flooding back.
Wilbur couldn't help himself. He leaned in for a kiss, his hand tugging at the towel wrapped around Queenie.
"Queenie, you smell incredible tonight. Is that a new rose perfume?" Wilbur asked.
Queenie finally seemed to snap back to reality, but instead of answering him, she stepped away, putting some distance between them.
Her brows were furrowed, and there was a clear trace of annoyance lingering there.
"I don't want to do it tonight," Queenie said.
We barely even started, and my stomach was already starting to ache.