“Do you have time for breakfast?” I ask.
He nods.
“I go in at seven-thirty. I’ll start the coffee.”
He kisses me once more before climbing out of bed, and I watch him walk away, completely naked and completely unconcerned about it.
I can’t help the quiet giggle that slips out of me.
Honestly, how lucky am I?
A few minutes later, I get dressed and head downstairs. The smell of fresh coffee already fills the kitchen, and music is drifting through the house from the living room speaker. Aiden’s favorite playlist is on, a mix of songs that I’ve learned are tied to some of his favorite memories.
Starting the weekend with music is his thing. He likes to sing along while doing chores, or while getting ready for work, filling the house with whatever song happens to be playing.
Through the window, I can see him outside, throwing a ball for Neptune and Skye, entertaining them and giving them some exercise before he leaves for work. I head to the community center to help with the last-minute preparations.
It’s Memorial Day weekend, which means the Fleet of Flowers ceremony is happening today. After helping with wreath-making the past two days, I promised Natalia I would meet her early to help decorate the boats before the event.
I start making eggs and toasting bagels while Aiden comes back inside and fills the dogs’ bowls with food and water. Neptune and Skye have been spending so much time together lately that they’ve grown used to sharing bowls, no matter which house we happen to be staying at.
A new song begins playing through the speaker.
From the living room, I hear Aiden say, “Oh, I love this song.”
I glance up and immediately start laughing.
He’s dancing.
His hips sway from side to side as he takes two steps to the right and then two steps to the left, completely lost in the music. When he looks toward the kitchen and catches me watching him, he freezes in place.
“Do you know how to dance bachata?” he asks.
“A little,” I answer, flipping the eggs.
He walks over without another word, reaches around me, and turns off the stove.
Before I can protest, his arms slide around me from behind, and he starts moving us gently with the rhythm of the song.
Two steps to the right.
Two steps to the left.
I close my eyes for a moment, letting him guide me while the music fills the kitchen and the warmth of his body settles comfortably around mine.
Then, softly against my ear, he starts singing.
“Después de tanto tiempo, mira dónde estamos.
Seguimos juntos y así nos quedamos.
Porque llegaste para quedarte,
y ahora, sin ti, no voy a ninguna parte.”
He turns me towards him, until we’re face to face, dancing in the middle of my kitchen, his right arm settling comfortably around my waist while his left hand closes around mine.
“What does that mean?” I ask, looking up at him.
