Chapter 3: The New House
It took about two weeks for Nick to find a new house. He decided to rent for now, until he could get his old home ready for sale. It would probably take a bit of time, especially since it was the center of a recent high-profile neighborhood massacre. The most beautiful thing about this rental was that it was only two blocks away from the spice shop. Since Nick was loath to leave Adalind alone at home during the day while he worked, Adalind walked to the spice shop every morning to spend her day helping Rosalee. Nick would pick her up on his way home at night.
Nick had shown zero interest in decorating the new place. Adalind and Rosalee had held a garage sale to get rid of all of Nick's old furniture. That, of course, was held at Rosalee's home to remove the furniture's any association with the cursed house. With the money from that and also Nick's credit card, Adalind had put that and her nesting instincts to good use. When she was done, nothing in that house contained a trace of either her or Nick's past—a not so subtle declaration of her desire to start anew.
By this time, Adalind was heavily pregnant. Her interactions with Nick at home have been minimal. He seemed to be avoiding her in the house most of the time. When she was in the living room, he would retreat to his bedroom. When she walked into the kitchen, he would slip outside for a walk. But Adalind took solace in the little things he did that suggested he cared, like leaving her favorite breakfast out on the counter every morning—a Voodoo donut shop lemon doughnut and a cup of decaf; calling in frequently to check in on her at Rosalee's and making sure she had enough money to go about her daily life. It must be difficult to be emotionally available to someone who was responsible for turning your life upside down, thought Adalind. She was fine with this arrangement, she supposed. At least she felt physically safe at the moment.
It was a particularly stormy night when Adalind heard a loud clang in the hallway. She waddled out of bed immediately, poking her head out the door to see a broken tree branch resting on the corridor skylight. Lucky it did not break the glass, Adalind thought, but better get Nick to take a look and make sure it wouldn't do more damage through the night.
She walked over to Nick's room and gently knocked on the door.
"Nick, are you up?"
No answer. Adalind cracked the door open and looked in. Nick was huddled in a fetal position at the foot of his bed.
"Nick?" Adalind tiptoed in. Nick just stared off into space, not acknowledging her presence. From his bloodshot eyes, it was clear that he had been crying. His bed did not appear to have been slept in since Adalind made it five days prior, when they first moved in.
"Nick…" Adalind said tenderly, reaching out for his arm. She could hear him breathing faster now, shallower. He pulled away just before Adalind could touch him. Adalind moved closer. Nick moved away. Adalind persisted, backing him into the corner of the room. She put her hands around his shoulders and pulled him in. He clenched his fists tight, resisting as hard as he could. Adalind just held him until she felt his fight melt away and became a broken doll in her arms. With his head resting against her belly, his sobs came in slowly, quietly, until it took over his body, shaking him. And shaking her. When he was finally done, Adalind pulled him onto the bed and laid down next to him. Nick slept soundly through the night—something Adalind suspected he hadn't done since the day she walked into the precinct.