I hesitate long enough to see her brace, just slightly, like she’s preparing to hear no.
Our'wedding'in my office earlier flashed through my mind, the look on her face, the hurt in her eyes. I exhale.
“Okay,” I say. "That sounds like a good idea."
Her body relaxes instantly. The smile that blooms is small but genuine, like she didn’t expect the answer.
“Really?” she breathes.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” She brightens. “I can order.”
Then she laughs lightly. “Do you have any food allergies? Or things you absolutely hate?”
“No,” I say. “I eat everything.”
“That’s valuable information,” she says, already pulling out her phone.
She scrolls with focus, brow furrowing slightly. “Thai? Italian? Burgers? Oh. Sushi. Definitely sushi.”
She glances up. “You don’t strike me as a California roll guy.”
“I’m not,” I admit, trying to suppress a smile and feeling like I may lose the battle.
“Good. That would have been disappointing.”
She orders quickly, and I just know it will be too much food.
When she finishes, she looks up at me. “Why don’t we get comfortable?”
She stands and passes me, close enough that I catch her scent, clean, warm, unmistakably her, and disappears toward the bedroom.
Our bedroom.
I remain where I am, disoriented.
But somehow...
Comfortable?
What does that even mean?
I head to the bedroom a moment later and open the closet.
Suits. Shirts. Shoes. Everything is arranged with precision. I own more clothes than I need, and none of them feel right for this moment.
She reappears, having changed into a lounge set I picked out for her: a sweater and shorts. Her long legs are bare, strong, real. She pauses when she sees me still standing there. She cocks her head, as if studying me or trying to understand the situation, then steps closer, her gaze sweeping my side of the closet.
“Do you not own comfortable clothes?” she asks.
“I have... gym clothes,” I say.
She laughs, a real laugh, and it feels like. something is stuttering to life inside me.
I want to hear that every day.
The thought slams into me and nearly takes my breath away. I don't answer, just stand there staring, so Lucy fills in the silence.
