I scrunched my nose at the reminder. The next milestone was due in a few days, but for once in this project, I wasn’t stressed about it. It was just a few tweaks to code I’d already written for the project, a few changed parameters, and it would do exactly what I wanted. I would probably finish that milestone early,which meant that it wasn’t a burden to take on an extra night of cooking.
Besides, bad news was always better delivered with good food.
I plated up our dinner, and we took it to the couch. It was routine now, comfortable and lived in. Noah turned on the television and found a nature documentary he’d been wanting to watch. “You know,” I teased, “I cooked. I think that means I’m supposed to be the one to choose the show.”
“But it was my night to cook, meaning it was my night to choose first.” Every time he issued a counter argument, I was reminded of the fact that he’d been a champion debater in high school. I’d loved watching him then, and I loved hearing his debates now. Even when I was on the receiving end. Of course, back then, he couldn’t use puppy dog eyes on his opponent. He could on me, and I was weak to them. “Besides, you know I’ve been waiting on this one to drop.”
It was a good thing I was teasing, because I would have folded like a soggy napkin. Even if I’d meant it. His puppy eyes were a devastating weapon. “Before you start,” I began. His eyes lit up because he knew he had won. And well, we both liked winning too much to be entirely healthy. “My landlord called today.”
He put the remote down on the couch and angled his body to look at me. “Another delay?”
Was it just wishful thinking, or was there hope in his voice?
“The apartment will be ready a week from Friday.”
He deflated at the news, and it was all the confirmation I needed that it wasn’t wishful thinking. Not at all. He was just as saddened by the idea of us no longer living in the warm bubble of his apartment as I was. “Oh?”
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“How do you feel about it?”
I skewered a roasted carrot with my fork and brought it to my lips, using the food to give myself a moment to think. I wassad about going home, but it was more complicated than that. I missed my apartment. I missed my bed, and I missed having my full wardrobe. I missed my collection of rubber ducks, and I hadn’t read a comic book in almost a month. I missed being able to blast theGleesoundtrack during times of emotional distress without it pinging every single one of Noah’s alarm bells. There were things I missed about my place, but I didn’t know if any of them outweighed how much I didn’t want to leave.
Because I had headphones, I could listen to theGleesoundtrack just as easily with them.
The ducks I had at his place weren’t as good as the ducks I had at my apartment, but they got the job done. A little slower than the myriad of ducks I had at home did, but… I may have already thought of places where I could keep my ducks at Noah’s apartment. You know, if that were to ever become a place where I kept my full collection of ducks.
And my bed? My bed didn’t have Noah.
That was what I was going to miss the most. That was the hardest part of seeing the end of this arrangement, and that was why it was so complicated.
I swallowed down my carrot and shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
“Talk it out?”
Another carrot. Another moment to collect my thoughts. Noah followed my lead and ate one of the roasted potatoes, closing his eyes as he savored the flavor. I watched his lips move as he chewed. “I’m going to miss this,” I said quietly. “I’m going to miss kissing you when you come home from work and eating dinner together and cooking together. I’m going to miss watching your documentaries and listening to you complain about my selections.”
“Because you always choose musicals,” he started. I opened my mouth to protest, but he cut me off. “Or sitcoms.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, pulling one of those magical laughs from his lips. “As I was saying, I’m going to miss all of this. I’m really going to miss those early morning kisses and seeing you with your hair all messed up and those moments when you actually wear your glasses.”
“So, you’re going to miss me looking ugly?”
“You have never looked ugly a day in your life,” I assured him. “I’m going to miss seeing you not perfectly put together all the time. I like seeing it. I like knowing that you don’t let anyone else see that.” Not even the people he’d hooked up with in the years we were broken up and growing into adults. He’d told me all about it, how he rarely let them sleep over. How, on the rare occasions he let a guy sleep over, he’d sneak out of bed early to brush his teeth and put in his contacts, assuming he ever took them out. He didn’t even let them see his in-depth skin care routine.
“I’m going to miss you, too,” he told me before he popped a piece of chicken in his mouth. “I sleep better when you’re here.”
“I sleep better when I’m here, too.” I went to bed earlier than when I was left to my own devices. I got more sleep because going to bed with him was more appealing than stealing a few more minutes on my laptop. When I went home, I wouldn’t have anything motivating me to go to bed at a halfway decent hour.
“Guess we just have to make the most of the time we have left then.”
Noah was right. We had to make the best out of the next week and a half. I had to soak in this domestic bliss, absorb every minute of it that I could, because soon, I would be having lonely dinners and late nights again.
The next few days were amazing, but I could feel it.
I could feel that thrum of tension, of knowing that this was ending soon. Our relationship was going to change. Not living together, not seeing each other every day would change things. How could it not? Even my friends picked up on the tension during our Thursday night hang out. They tried to pull me out of my head, but I was too far gone.
And every day that passed, I just found myself getting deeper and deeper into my thoughts.
