“Maybe,” I say, though unlikely. I probably would have gotten off the ice for a break with or without the penalty called.
Arush leans forward and then takes a deep breath. It feels like a kiss might be jumping very far ahead in our incredibly slow pace, but I take that chance anyway and press my lips to his. It’s light, just the touch of our lips together in a moment that feels huge and pure and stolen in time.
It doesn’t get deeper than that. Our mouths don’t even move together. Just our lips remaining softly pressed against one another.
My heart races. I close my eyes and feel the magic spin around us, weaving this moment in time into a tapestry that will hold all kinds of key moments in our lives together. It’llhang around us, always reminding us where we started. How we began. What we’ve grown into.
Right here, right now, at this very moment, the story of us has truly begun.
CHAPTER 12
ARUSH
After breakfast,I find myself wandering around the condo, unsure what to do with myself. We’re in the middle of Julian’s first away-game streak, where he’s gone for an entire week as opposed to a single night. Not going to lie, this is my least favorite part of being here.
It’s so quiet. I’ve been leaving the television on low just to have some noise. I can get through a couple hours of Julian at hockey easily enough, but six days is a really long time. He told me that last year, the Arizona team he was on had an away-game streak of like twenty days!
I’d lose my mind. What the hell would I do for twenty days all by myself?
Before I left India, I would have thought that I spent a lot of time alone. As it turns out, that’s entirely false. I spent almost no time alone. Even if there wasn’t someone physically with me, I was on the phone or texting with someone, video chatting. But I also spent a lot of time with my nieces and nephews. With my siblings and my father. Definitely with my friends.
I didn’t realize how difficult it would be to put such distance between everyone I knew and myself. It’s not the miles that’s theproblem, but the different time zones. I’m just beginning my day when they go to bed.
Okay, not quite, but definitely for a large portion of the day.
Today is morning number three that I’m alone. I already ate and cleaned up after myself. I didn’t burn down the kitchen, nor did I flood it from the sink. Those are some pretty impressive achievements for a guy who hasn’t done a damn thing for himself his entire life.
My wanderings take me to stand in the door of the bedroom where my suitcases are. Two of them are open on the bed. One large one I haven’t opened yet. My backpack is on the desk chair and my carry-on is unzipped on the floor, though it’s closed in on itself.
Maybe I should unpack. I think I subconsciously didn’t because of the reception at the airport. I wish it had been different. I wish it had been the dream I had hoped it would be.
But that’s okay. I think in a year we can look back on it and laugh.
For right now, am I comfortable enough in this situation to unpack? Yes, I think I am. So I spend the next hour putting my clothes away in the drawers and in the closet. I have to grab all the hangers from the closet of the spare room and then sneak some of Julian’s extra ones as well. I hadn’t realized how much clothing I could fit in these suitcases.
I also didn’t realize how many toys I brought. They barely fit in the sock drawer hidden under my socks. Which makes me question just how many toys I have because I lefta lotat home. Oof.
Once I’m settled into the room, I bring the empty suitcases into the closet of the spare room and stack them beside the place where Julian has his suitcases. Granted, his nestle inside each other like stacking dolls. Mine are all the same size, so they’rea little in the way. Maybe there’s somewhere else to store them, but for now, this seems like a good spot.
Just as I’m coming out of the room, my phone rings. My father’s name lights up the screen and I grin. “Hi, Dad,” I greet.
“Arush. How are you?”
“I’m good. How are you? How’s home?”
“Everything is great. All great. What are you up to?”
I glance at the bedroom. “I was putting away my laundry just now. I’m not sure what I’ll do for the rest of the day, though.”
“Where’s your Julian?”
“In Arizona.”
There’s a sharp edge to my father’s tone when he asks, “Why is he in Arizona and you’re in Chicago?”
“He has hockey, Dad. He has to go away for hockey sometimes too. They don’t all come here.”
There’s a pause before my father says, “I need to read up on hockey.”
