Loving Your Lies by Piper Shelly

taking every care as a parent would when leaving the nursery
of his sleeping newborn.
    “Is she asleep?” Marie’s voice dropped to a
whisper.
    Julian nodded.
    “Ah, the ever present caretaker. Did you
tuck her in like a toddler and kiss her goodnight at three o’clock
in the afternoon?” I said.
    He leaned closer and whispered, “I can do
that with you tonight if you like.”
    My gulp echoed in the high hallway. I
stepped back, fixing him with an unimpressed stare. A tingle in my
stomach irritated me while shock and excitement pulsed through my
veins.
    Marie slapped his arm. “Oh, be nice,
Julian,” she scolded him, but he only laughed. Then my aunt turned
toward me. “Your mother sleeps a lot now. The journey to London
exhausted her.” She snaked her arm around my waist and made me move
forward. “Come, chérie . I believe you want to see your room
next.”
    Upstairs, the corridor spread to both sides.
I whirled around on the gallery, enjoying the sunny place. As I
leaned over the balustrade, I saw Julian below, crossing the
hallway with loose-limb strides, headed for the kitchen. Sunrays
breaking through the dormer made the fair strands of his hair
gleam. Being tucked in by him might make an interesting experience.
My heart beat just that much faster.
    He stopped as if he could feel me watching
him. His gaze lifted to me. His blue eyes twinkled.
    Shit. I jerked back as embarrassment
filled me. I whirled around to face Marie and let her show me to my
room. His soft chuckles drifting to me from downstairs annoyed me
to no end.
    “We have a small library up here,” Marie
explained and pointed to the door around the corner to our right.
“You can get yourself books whenever you like. Julian stays in the
room on the far left. And this will be yours.”
    Great, Julian didn’t only live in the same
house, but also on the same floor. One foot of solid wall was all
that separated us. I suppressed a snort.
    Next to Julian’s room, she opened the door
to my private place, and I entered. As I crossed the threshold, I
found myself in a fifteen by fifteen foot piece of heaven. My
breath caught in my throat, and I truly hoped my jaw wasn’t hanging
open.
    Sunshine swamped in through wide windows on
two connecting walls. The wind played with sheer curtains, pushing
the white fabric in and out through the French door at the far wall
that exposed a beautiful balcony.
    The rubber soles of my boots made a
squeaking sound on the light gray parquet floor as I crossed to the
bed made of maple wood. A teddy bear was carved into the footboard
and lured me to trace its outlines with my fingers. My hands
skimmed over the floral design of the covers, and I enjoyed the
luxurious feeling of the silken bedding. They were nothing like the
stiff covers in the orphanage.
    “I hope this room is not too childish for
you.” My aunt’s worried voice broke my fascination. “Albert built
the furniture with timber from our own woods. That was in the early
days of our marriage when we hoped for children.”
    In the mirror of the wardrobe door, I caught
a glimpse of her sad eyes where she rocked in a white rocking-chair
with a stuffed bear cradled in her arms. Although I hadn’t paid
much attention the night before, I remembered my mother mentioning
that my aunt and uncle didn’t have kids of their own.
    If it had been anyone else, I would have
asked straight away. But facing my aunt who had looked at me with
those big warm eyes from the moment had I arrived, I considered it
rude to ask for the reason why they didn’t have kids. However, my
staring must have given me away.
    “A genetic disease.” She rose from the
chair, placing the teddy back on the seat. Then she crossed the
room on a stride that made it hard to back off. “I cannot get
pregnant.”
    As she caressed my cheek, I was wondering if
she’d longed for a child as much over the years as I had yearned
for a caring mother. Everything might have gone differently if I
had been