Two days. Every two weeks. And some cruel god had decided even that was too generous.
I moved on autopilot. Coffee. Toast I knew he wouldn’t have time to eat but would take anyway. I cleaned up the gauze wrappers and put the kit back, because chaos made him twitchy.
By the time he came back out, wearing black trousers and a shirt with the sleeves rolled, quiet god of war mode engaged, the apartment smelled like coffee and there was a mug at his place on the counter.
He stopped in the doorway, just looking at me.
“What.”
“Nothing.” The word came out softer than it had any right to. “You look like you live here.”
I did. I also knew I’d replay that look on his face for the next fourteen days.
He crossed the space between us and wrapped a hand gently around the back of my neck, tilting my head up for one more kiss.
“Tonight,” he said against my mouth. “I don’t care if you’re exhausted. I want the call. I want all of it. If you’re mad, I want to hear that too. Don’t do the dynasty thing with me and pretend you’re fine.”
“I promise.”
“And the pictures don’t stop. I want them more now.” His voice dropped. “Especially now. I need to know what my girl’s wearing under all that polite Thorne packaging. I need the reminder that even when you’re in their house, you’re mine.”
“I’ll send them.”
“Good.” A flicker of satisfaction crossed his face. “That’s my girl.”
Heat fluttered low in my stomach at the words. He checked the time on his watch and swore softly under his breath.
We walked to the elevator together. The private one, the one that opened directly into his living room like the rest of the building didn’t exist. He pressed the call button and stood there with one hand still at my waist, as if letting go early might make the lift arrive faster and he was refusing on principle.
“I’ll see you in two weeks, then.” My throat felt tight. “That sounds like a long time when I say it out loud.”
“It is a long time.” He tipped my face up with a knuckle. “I fucking hate it.”
“I do too.”
“Madeline.”
“Yeah?”
“This isn’t… temporary for me.” His eyes held mine, steady and dark. “Just in case you have a night where your brain gets loud and tells you stories. This is not a scene I get bored of. ”
The raw honesty of it hurt more than the goodbye.
“I know. You don’t do halfway, remember?”
The elevator chimed. Doors slid open.
We stood there one more second, in the threshold between our world and everyone else’s. Then he pulled me in, kissed me, hard before letting me go.
“Message when you’re in the car. Then again when you’re at the airport. Then when you land. Don’t roll your eyes. I want the timestamps.”
“I wasn’t going to roll my eyes.”
“You were thinking it.”
“Maybe, but I love you,”
“I love you too.” He stepped back as the doors started to close, hands sliding out of mine at the last possible second.
