I let him take care of our food while I head into the bathroom and undress. As I turn the shower on and wait for the water to warm up, I let my thoughts wander.
Moving to France, huh? It’s still hard to believe that he’s leaving at the end of the week and will probably only be able to come for vacations. Undoubtably, I would make the trip to France if I could but financially that’s not possible. Jason won’t lend me money either because of his abnormal beef with Visha.
I slip under the scorching water and rinse off the doubt and anxiety sticking to my skin.
He needs my support and love in this life-changing event and that’s what I intend to do. After an everlasting shower and three songs from theEpicMusical, I dry myself off and get dressed. Today the weather is clement, needless to say I still end up wearing a cozy sweater and a pair of jeans.
Visha walks up to me, arms spread for another hug but this time I refuse. “I just showered.”
“So?”
“So, you know I don’t like being hugged right after I shower.”
He pouts and lets his arms fall to his sides. “I’ll never get the logic behind that.”
“You don’t have to get it. You just have to respect it.” I smile, messing up his hair.
“I know but still why can’t I hug you?”
I roll my eyes. “Because I’m clean and right now you’re not. After you shower you can hug me as much as you want.”
“Fine by me.”
To be honest, it feels like he’s manipulating me with his puppy face to steal hugs and affection out of me. I can’t say that it bothers me because it doesn’t but after the conversation we had yesterday, I feel that I should keep some distance between us. But then he’s leaving soon, so I don’t want to waste the little time we have together by putting unnecessary space between us.
He undresses and disappears into the bathroom for at least an hour. One thing I won’t miss is the water bills piling up because lord Visha loves taking long showers.
On the dining table, I find toast, jam and butter, all ready. There are two glasses of freshly pressed orange juice, and I smell coffee brewing in the kitchen.
We don’t use fancy coffee machines. Not because they’re expensive per se but simply because I prefer the Italian ones. I like brewing my coffee myself rather than waiting for a fancy machine to do it for me with a stupid capsule. It’s an experience itself.
I pour myself a cup and check my phone for texts or calls.
Jason
Are you free tonight?
ME
Depends. What for?
JASON
Don’t tell me you forgot.
ME
What are you talking about?
JASON
See you tonight.
That’s so like Jason to make plans without telling me why. I seem to have forgotten something according to Mr. Know-it-all, but I can’t put my finger on it.
I drop two cubes of sugar and a dribble of milk in the coffee, then take a sip.
Technically, we should cook lunch or something but somehow, we don’t really operate that way. Over the years, we simply decided that if we wake up late, we’ll still eat breakfast and then lunch if we’re still hungry. So basically, a brunch but for some reason I refuse to call it that out of spite, ever since Visha called it a breakunch two years ago.
