He looks at me and starts to move, slowly and deeply. He holds my gaze, and I see tears flicker in his eyes.
Emotion swamps me.
“I love you,” I breathe.
“More than life,” he replies.
I close my eyes.
“No, baby, let me see…let me see you go over.”
So, I watch him as he watches me as we both climax. It’s more intimate than anything we’ve ever done. More visceral.
“Will it always be like this?” I wonder as I try to catch my breath.
“Always,” he vows.
That night, we have dinner at a tiny Italian place in Beacon Hill—candlelight, pasta, and an excellent Bolgheri.
We sit close, knees brushing under the table, fingers linked like we’ve been doing this for years.
“You look tired.” He brushes a strand of hair behind my ear.
“I’ve had a week.” I huff out abreath. “We’re running models on high-redshift galaxy formation, and it’s like trying to map dark matter with a flashlight and a gut feeling.”
He smiles. “You make me hard when you talk like that.”
I shake my head, laughing softly. “Look at you, getting it up after the marathon session we just had. And you say you’re old.”
“With you, Em, I’m going to want you,always.”
He’s so profound, so intense, that I feel it in my soul.
I stroke his wrist with a thumb. “I knew long distance wouldn’t be easy…but this is….”
“I know.”
The server interrupts and serves us.
We dive into our food.
All that sex has made us hungry, and since we plan to do more of it, we want to stock up on carbs.
“Your father has been emailing me papers about Antarctica since I saw them,” I tell him.
His parents had dinner with me when they came to Boston a month ago. Our families seem to have accepted us without much consternation. Well, except for that one time when Aksel gave Ransom a black eye.
“They’re going to an archaeological dig in Egypt in the fall. They tell you?”
“I love how they’re having so much fun as retirees. Learning. Growing. It’s remarkable.”
“And nagging me for grandchildren.”
I smile at him warmly. It doesn’t faze me now when he brings up getting married, having babies. I believe it will happen. I know it will. I have no doubts.
Not right now, though, because I have my postdoc, and Ransom can’t leave Stanford. Anywhere else will be a step down for him.
I have been seriously considering moving to Stanford, continuing my postdoctoral work there. But right now, there are no openings in astrophysics programs in the Bay Area.
