Seems like I never cry as much as I do when I'm with him.
“You want me to stay?” she asked in a small voice. He laughed and cupped her face.
“Baby, I never wanted you to leave. Of course I want you stay. I never want you to leave again,” he told her.
“You're not mad at me? Cause I left?” she double checked, a tear slipping out of her right eye. He playfully shook her head.
“I'm furious. It's been three months since I've had sex, woman! Three months! Do you know how long that is in man-time!? You have a lot to make up for,” he warned her. She laughed as well, the tears falling in earnest.
“I was so worried. So scared too much time had passed, that it had all been in my head,” she cried. “So many things. Worried you'd found someone else, or that you'd be over us.”
“Mischa, there is no one else but you, and I don't think I'll ever be over us. I told you – it's love,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to hers. “Stay with me. I got this place for you, so you could come outside every morning and look at the place that brought us together. Where we found each other. Where we came back together. Stay with me.”
Not “come find me”, not anymore.
Now “stay with me”.
How could a woman, who cheated on her husband, possibly deserve that kind of happiness?
When Mischa had decided to hunt him down halfway across the world, she hadn't really been sure of what to expect. She certainly had never imagined she would immediately move in with Tal. Straight from her hotel to his place – he actually went and collected her stuff. She missed her flight, and she didn't even care.
At first, she'd seriously wondered if it would work between them. Their relationship had been started on lies. She had cheated on her husband. Tal had lied to her the entire time. Not good building materials. Beyond that, his apartment was almost unbearably small, around six hundred square feet. Tiny. She felt like she was living in a dorm room.
She learned to love it. A smaller space meant they were always together. And the screwed up beginning to their relationship actually reenforced its strength. They had already seen each other at their worst, had already shared their worst secrets with each other. They had done what was wrong. Now they knew how to do it right.
Her family came to visit. Her mother was still cold towards her, so Misch wasn't expecting much, but Tal made quick work of the ice queen. He didn't give Mrs. Duggard a chance to not like him. When they picked them up at the airport, he simply grabbed the tiny woman in a bear hug, actually lifting her off the ground. Then he let his silver tongue go to work, and by the end of the trip, Mischa was pretty sure her mom was more than a little in love with him.
And of course her father loved him. Mischa was an only child – she got the feeling that Tal was a little like the son her dad had never gotten to have. The two would sit out on the terrace for hours, talking about baseball and basketball and football. Anything with a ball. It made her happy. Two parts of her life, fitting so seamlessly together. Her dad was also fascinated by Tal's life, by his secretive job, and loved hearing all the stories.
Tal's job was still crazy. He didn't work at the Vatican for long. Soon, he was back “in the field”, back doing missions with Ruiz. He tried to stay in Rome as much as possible, and tried to keep his time away brief, but still, it wasn't easy. One time he came home with a bullet hole in his bicep. That had almost ended it. Mischa nearly lost her damn mind, and a screaming match to end all screaming matches broke out between them.
But oh, wow, the makeup sex had almost been worth it.
After that, they reached a compromise. If he took an out of country job, he had to take her with him. She'd gotten a job at a dance studio, and her hours were flexible, so it was easy enough for her to sneak off, and it made him think twice about what jobs he accepted. It worked out beautifully. In the eight months they'd been together, Misch got to see France, Norway, Mongolia, Nepal, and South Korea.
Though nothing compared to spending every day with him. And nothing at all to spending every night with him.
After Tal scared away the over-eager gentleman who kept trying to get Misch to go out with him – seriously, a breakfast date!? – they sat down together. She'd been waiting for him to get off work. They ordered real drinks and chatted about their days before heading out.
“How am I so lucky?” Mischa asked as they walked away from the cafe, holding hands while they strolled along. Tal smiled.
“I have the same thought, all the time. I told you, fate. What a mother fucker.”
“You're such a romantic.”
“Only the best for you. Can we go home and get naked now?”
“No, I have plans for us.”
Misch surprised him by picking up the pace, yanking him down the street.
“What are we doing? I was planning on deviant sex,” he complained, following behind her as she led the way down a side street.
“You can have that any time. Can you hear the music? There's a big festival going on,” she told him. She felt his hands slide over her hips, then he was pulling her back against him, even as they were walking.
“Any time, huh …,” he focused on the pertinent part of her statement.
A band was playing in a square, with speakers, and people were dancing and laughing. She'd been surprised to learn that Tal was actually a pretty good dancer – he'd made mention of her dancing, all the time, but had never mentioned that he had some rhythm of his own. Now every opportunity she had, she danced with him.