“Could be by plane.” She winked, and I knew she was teasing, but still.
She was right. It could be.
I was tempted to spill my own travel plans and offer to fly over from Greece. By mid-January, I’d probably be missing her so badly, a few extra days would feel like a reprieve.
Not every day was fun and laughter. There were quiet nights, sitting on her sofa, talking, sharing our hopes and dreams, our fears. Our pasts.
She talked to me about how she went about designing a website, how she chose colors, what drew her to different images, and what she loved to draw. She told me about the trips she’d taken, how she wanted to leave Charlottesville and travel the world, but she’d miss Elizabeth too much. How she worried about her friend.
She told me about the letters she wrote to her parents, hoping to move past the internalized trauma, learn to trust, to love. “But it didn’t fix me. It was just more words.”
“Did you ever send them?”
She snorted. “No way. I never want to talk to my dad again. And I’m not ready to confront my mom.”
This reminded me of her confessions the first night we met. “Sowhat did you do with them?”
“Elizabeth and I burned them.”
“Badass.”
“Tell me something about you,” she said, threading a wire through some kind of bead. “Something embarrassing.”
Hoping to make her laugh, I said, “When I was a kid, I used to dress up in a costume for the Greek festival.”
“Oh my gosh. Did you wear one of those little fez hats?”
“It’s called a fesi. And yes.”
She clutched her stomach. “So cute. And the vest?”
“Yup. And a fustanella.” I waited a beat. “That’s a white pleated skirt. Very stylish.”
“No.” She belly laughed. “I need to see pictures.”
I shamelessly baited a hook. “Those are at my house.”
“Tragic.”
“My family would love you. You know, they harass me constantly to bring you for a visit. Of course, you’re ‘that woman’ to them right now. I should take you. It would serve you right.”
“Don’t offer if you don’t intend to follow through.”
“Who said I didn’t?”
Three weeks passed like this.
It should have frustrated me to be spending so much platonic time with a woman, but when Evan teased, “I never thought I’d see the day you’d work so hard for so little,” I realized he had it wrong. I wasn’t working at all, and I was actually happy.
The only fly in the ointment: I was falling in love with her a little more every day.
And I’d never stopped wanting her. On the contrary, it would be fair to say my loins were perpetually on fire, but that’s why Eros invented showers.
Then it was time for me to pack my car and head home for Christmas—only one week before my planned trip to Greece. I needed to drop that bomb on Chelsea, but I selfishly wanteda few more carefree days in her company before introducing angst. Besides, I wasn’t even sure I’d stay in Greece. If it didn’t work out, I might be back before she came home from France.
We were eating some beef and broccoli I’d stir-fried, sitting at my kitchen island, when I brought it back up. “Would you like to come meet my family?” I wasn’t sure if this was pushing our boundaries, so I rattled on. “Granted, Christmas is probably a stupid time to take you there. I mean, you probably have plans, but if you really wanted to get to know me, you’ve got to meet my sisters. I mean—”
She smiled. “I’d love to.”
