Pushing the door open, I set the food, coffee, and newspaper I found on the doorstep this morning on the table and then close the door. A sharp pain shoots down my arm and catches my breath.
Fuck, it hurts.
Checking the time on my phone, it’s a little after eight, and according to the notification from my calendar, I need to be at the training facility by ten. I consider taking some more ibuprofen, but I figure I should wait and ask the doctor.
I remove my shoes by the door, then pick up the breakfast, moving across the apartment. I’m halfway to the kitchen when the door to the bedroom swings open, revealing Claire.
“Morning, Sugar.” I smile. “I got us some food and?—”
She takes a step toward me but doesn’t say anything. Her face is flush, her eyes red and swollen like she’s been crying.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, setting everything down on the coffee table and moving to where she stands.
“You weren’t here,” she says, her voice shaking as tears stream down her cheeks. In one more large stride, I make it to her and wrap her up in my arms. She collapses into me, and her whole body begins to shake as she cries. “I thought I’d lost you forever.”
“You could never lose me.” My hands rub along her spine, trying to soothe her. “I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note. I thought I could make it back before you woke up, and then the line at the bagel place was out the door. I tried to call?—”
“But you didn’t have my number.”
“Yeah.”
“Is that my shirt?”
“When you weren’t here, I dug out and put it on hoping it would smell like you, but it didn’t.”
“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”
She takes a few deep breaths and leans back so that she can see me. “How did you know it was real?”
“I just did.”
“What do you mean?”
Running my hands through her hair, I gently cup her face. “Claire, I’d love you in every realm. In every world. In every version of our story. It doesn’t matter where we are, I will never stop loving you.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
My mouth finds hers and I pick her up, attempting to swallow down a groan as pain radiates down my arm, but I fail.
“What’s wrong?” she says, pulling back.
“It’s just my shoulder, but it’s okay,” I say, trying to kiss her again.
“No, put me down,” she protests. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
She wiggles out of my arms. Gently, she runs her hand over the sore joint.
“We don’t have to do this if it’s painful.”
“But I really want to make love to you,” I say, bending forward to kiss her. “I feel like getting back to New York deserves a little celebration.”
“Okay,” she says, grabbing my hand. “Then I can be gentle.”
She leads me back into her bedroom, slowly walking us to the bed.
“Lay down,” she says, patting the mattress. “I have an idea.”
