We lay there while the last log settled into coals. The blanket itched. My leg was falling asleep. It felt real. He kissed my knuckles. I let myself believe, for one breath, that this would not disappear in the morning.
One breath turned into two. Then three. Outside, New York kept snowing. Inside, I let the weight of his arm stay where it was. I let the silence mean what it meant. I closed my eyes and did not reach for my armor. Not tonight.
Bruno slept beside me,his arm stretched over the pillow we shared. The room stayed dim, lit only by a thin yellow line of city light seeping through the curtains. His uneven breathing might have once annoyed me, but now each one curled warm in my chest. I lay on my side, taking him in. Bruno's lashes rested lightly against his skin, the curve of his mouth softer in sleep, free of the teasing grin that could still spark a fight if I let it.
A tiny scar near his temple caught the light, the one Olivia gave him after our messy breakup in college. Earlier, I had touched my lips to it, easing the old history still attached to that mark.
I used to run after nights like this, slipping out before daylight with my shoes in hand, certain intimacy was a trap. With Bruno, that old instinct did not surface. His suitcase sat open in the corner, half unpacked, looking less like a quick visit and more like a welcomed sign he planned to stay.
I traced the rise and fall of his chest with my eyes, breathed in cedar, wine, and the faint smoke of the fireplace that hadn't quite gone out downstairs.
Never in a million years did I think we would end up back here again, cuddling with me memorizing his face. Either way, for the first time in a long while, I let myself picture a future with Bruno. Not certain or risk free, but worth trying for.
"You know I love you, don't you?" I said, the words slipping out before I could second-guess them.
To my surprise, he slowly opened his eyes.
"I never doubted you loved me. Only worried you'd stubbornly deny it for the rest of both our lives."
"I thought you were sleeping."
"How can anyone sleep with a beautiful woman like you lying next to them? It's a good thing I was awake, because I doubt you'd confess your love anytime soon."
I leaned over and laid my head on his chest. "I hate how well you know me."
"You don't hate anything about me," Bruno said, then gently kissed my forehead.
Damn, he was right about that too.
THIRTEEN
When He Loved Me
Nestled in the Catskill Mountains of New York was a place the girls and I liked to escape to when the city overwhelmed us. So, when Bruno mentioned taking a quick weekend trip, Stone Peak Lodge was my recommendation. The lodge offered cabins in the woods, an attached restaurant, and a view of snow-covered mountains perfect for skiing. After a quick check with the weatherman, I thought nothing could go wrong, but as we drove up the mountain in the rain, I sighed. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I wouldn't say them. There was no fucking snow, and now the weather app promised nothing but rain for days. Why were the majority of weather broadcasters men? Maybe lying came standard with the job description.
"Who cares. There's plenty of other things we can do. I didn't plan to leave the room anyway," Bruno said.
He was never the sort to get angry, so I wasn't surprised he took the ruined weekend so well. However, when he wrapped an arm around me and we entered the wooden doors of the lodge, my hatred for weathermen seemed unimportant.
There in Bruno's arms I could admit that not all men were unreliable; yes, they weren't perfect, but neither was I.
"You're right. We came to rekindle our relationship. We don't need snow. We're so hot, we'd probably melt it."
Bruno agreed, with a pat on my ass, and when we finally walked into our room and saw the king-size bed, we wasted no time messing it up.
Afterward, it felt like all the energy had drained out of me, partly from Bruno and also because I'd skipped lunch.
Sex was one thing, but hunger made my stomach do bigger flips. During the drive I planned to eat as soon as we arrived, but after that pat on my ass, the hunger faded. Now, it was back with a vengeance.
I stood quietly and headed over to the kitchen. When we booked the room, we asked the lodge to have it stocked with bread, eggs, milk, and a few other basics. I spied the box of pancake mix, and the idea of making Bruno a homemade meal tickled me. I never wasted time in a kitchen before, but this time around with him I wanted to try.
Yes, pancakes weren't steak or lamb chops, but it was a start.
Minutes later he moved toward me. I glanced up and back at the bowl, where the batter looked lumpier than it should be. Bruno laughed when he reached my side and leaned against the counter.
"Are you laughing at me? When I'm trying to be nice and feed you?"
Crossing his arms, he squinted, then spoke. "You sure you're not still angry and trying to kill me again?"
