I love you, Alex. I love you so much.
Instead, I just echo back, “Hi.”
His smile widens, and he tilts his head toward the doors to the train just as they open. We both hang up, and I meet him outside the train a moment later, immediately melting into his arms. He hums as he hugs me to him, and he kisses my cheek.
“Are you okay?” he asks softly.
I nod. “Yeah. I am now.”
Chapter Four
Alex
“Thisisridiculous.Whothe hell thinks these things up? New Guinness World Record for the most number of rhinestones stuck to the human body? Why?” Nico scoffs.
I glance over from where I’m standing at the stove to see him shaking his head as he stares at his phone. He’s lying on his stomach on the bed, naked except for his boxer briefs, his hair still damp from the shower he just took. He shakes his head one more time and then looks up at me as he tosses his phone down on the bed.
“Remember Shane, from high school?” I ask, and when Nico nods, I turn back to the stovetop and flip the grilled cheese sandwich I’m cooking for him. “He’s the current world record holder for most paper airplanes thrown into watermelons.”
“Sounds super useful.”
I laugh. “Right?”
With a groan, Nico rolls over onto his back and covers his eyes with one arm. He looks much better than he had an hour ago when I met him at the train station, but the dark circles under his eyes and tension in his jaw haven’t entirely disappeared. He needs to eat and then sleep.
“You have tomorrow off, right?” I ask quietly. I turn off the heat for the burner on the stove and move Nico’s sandwich to a plate,and when I glance over at him, he’s turned his head to look at me, his eyes half open. His exhaustion is so clear, and it makes my heart ache.
“Tomorrow and Tuesday. Vera made me promise not to come in.” He grimaces. “I think Vera mentioned something to Greta, too, because Greta texted and said not to come in until Friday morning.”
“Good.” He arches his eyebrows at me, and I frown. “You’re exhausted. You’ve been working so much. You need a break.”
Something in his expression shifts, but he turns his face away before I have time to figure out what it is. “Yeah, I do,” he says.
I pull out a knife to cut his sandwich into quarters, and then I move the plate to the table for him. Without a word, he pushes himself up to stand and then takes his seat at the table.
“OJ? Or milk?”
“Nah, this is fine. Thank you.”
I get a napkin for him and then start cleaning up the kitchen as he eats. He’s quiet, and not that that’s anything unusual, especially with how tired he is, but I can’t shake the concern that there’s something deeper going on.
I’ve been busy—last week, I took my qualifying exam, which I passed easily, and I have a deadline coming up for revisions for the research article John and I submitted toNature Astronomyplus homework for my classes and exams to study for.
And I’ve also been distracted for other reasons.
I bought the rings. They’re hiding in a box in the back of one of the drawers in our dresser. And I scouted out the Japanese garden to make sure I know exactly the spot to take him to. I’ve also written and rewritten what I want to say to him probably a hundred times by now, and I’ve been keeping an eye on both of our calendars, hoping a day pops up that’ll work for both of us. Actually, if he’s off work on Tuesday... maybe I could make thatwork.
But I’ve been so busy and so distracted...
I close the fridge after putting away the cheese and butter, and by the time I finish washing and drying the dishes, he’s done eating. He brings his plate to the sink to wash it, and I take it from him with a small smile.
“I’ve got it. You can go lie down, okay?”
His expression tightens, and he seems like he’s about to object, but he stops himself. “Then you’re coming to bed, right?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
With a nod, he loops an arm around my waist, hugs me, and then shuffles over and collapses onto the bed, not bothering to crawl under the covers. I finish up, turn out all the lights and lock the front door, and then undress and join him in bed. He’s already almost asleep, but he has enough awareness to scoot under the covers when I pull them back. Then he mumbles something incoherent and cuddles up against my chest, resting a hand on my stomach.
