Things are already serious, for me at least. I knew when I showed up for coffee last night that I'm already looking twenty years into the future. I'm not sure she's thinking of what it really means to be with me. I'm not confident she's willing to give up a mansion for officer housing.
When the fuck did I go from sleeping with her one night to marrying her? I don't exactly know how coffee turned into something more. I can see us being together like that, though. It's way too natural for it not to be a real possibility.
"We'll just enjoy the two weeks together," I say when she doesn't speak. I drop my forehead to the pillow and breathe in her scent. "Do you want to go out and visit Mikael?"
"Yes."
I swallow emotions I don't want to feel, mainly the pain of rejection that's starting to form. I'm going to spend my two weeks with her. If she doesn't want anything else, then I'll go.
"I'll take a quick shower." I withdraw from her warm depths, feeling a little cold inside, and kiss her quickly on the forehead.
There's a stone in my lower belly, one that makes me wonder if I made a mistake coming back.
No. She's worth it. Whatever time I have with her, I'll value. The ache at my core is one of regret and sorrow. She's the kind of girl you never get over, no matter how much time passes. I know that now.
I take a hot shower. It's long for me, about fifteen minutes. I don't know that I'll ever be able to stay in for thirty like she does. It feels good, though, and I relax and let the scalding water wash over me.
When I get out, I pull on jeans and leave the bathroom. At first, I don't see her anywhere. The door is closed and locked from the inside, so I stop and listen for an indication of which of her closets she's in.
Rustling comes from her shoe closet. I walk to the doorway and lean against the frame, arms folding across my chest as I watch her curiously. She's dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt and appears to be rearranging her shoes.
Is this what she does when she's upset? I have no idea. There are two pairs on the island at one end of the closet.
"Is Petr going to be upset that you're disrupting his system?" I ask.
She shoots me a dirty look. "They're my shoes!"
I love her fire. It moves me in ways that are too primal to name, compels me to take her in my arms and temper those flames with some hot sex. "What're you doing?"