I'd love to see what he looks like if he let his facial hair grow in a little bit, but I don't know how likely that is to happen.
"You're sweet, now let's sleep," I whisper gently and curl my body up into the side of his, my head lying on Rhodes's shoulder. I can feel him place a soft kiss on the top of my head before we settle into the sheets and drift off. I see him in my dreams that night; along with a young boy with blonde curly hair and eyes just like mine, asking me when daddy's getting home.
"Seriously, another call?" I whisper to Rhodes as he removes his phone from the inside of his jacket pocket. We've been at the Palace of Versailles for less than an hour and he's already received around a dozen calls.
"I have to take this one," he replies quietly once again as he steps back out of the room, finding his way back to the little courtyard we just passed. I thought he told me he got the day off to spend time with me, but he's spent the majority of his time answering emails and quietly yelling down the phone in French.
I'm trying not to be miserable, after all I'm in a fucking palace dripping in history, but it's tough. Yesterday feels like a dream, I miss having his undivided attention, he seems so removed now. The whole car ride here he was writing emails; 'just one more, babe', 'damn it, last one I promise'. If he has shit to do I'd rather he just tell me than say he has his day free, because we aren't even spending any time together.
My attention is refocused as the tour guide begins to lead us into the next room, the large crowd around me following her. I should stay behind so that Rhodes doesn't get lost, but then I'd miss all of the interesting little facts about the rooms and who knows how long I'd even be waiting. I decide to follow the group, we haven't gone too far. Rhodes can catch up when he stops working. And boy, am I glad I followed them.
"Now we have the most famous room in the Palace, the Hall of Mirrors." My breath is ripped out of my body as I enter the room. I don't think I was quite ready for the beauty. The warm sun bathes into the room and bounces off the hundreds of reflective surfaces around the room. There isn't a whole lot making up the room, besides the crystal chandeliers and gold statues. But when I look up, I see the ceiling is beautifully painted the whole way across. I'm too wrapped up in the wonder of it all, I'm barely listening to what the woman is saying to us.
People have begun to split off from the group, examining the pillars and peering out the windows to the gardens outside. I try to avoid looking at the walls, a room full of mirrors would normally be my worst nightmare, and it would be if the room weren't just so beautiful.