Of course he did.
But he didn’t say anything.
Not yet.
“So,” she said, breaking the quiet, “this is where we pretend this is normal?”
He leaned back slightly, considering that.
“I don’t think either of us is very good at pretending, do you?”
“That’s fair.”
A pause settled between them again, lighter this time. Less guarded. Still uncertain.
They were both treading lightly, feeling each other, carefully moving toward a conclusion they both wanted but afraid to admit.
“How’s it being back home?” he asked.
The question was simple.
The answer wasn’t.
Randi let out a slow breath.
“Wayyy harder than I thought it would be, especially when there’s no one around to help with the zippers.”
He couldn’t hold back and smiled devilishly.
“My specialty.”
She reached out and playfully slapped his hand.
“Pretty cheeky there, Doc.”
“Sorry. My playful side rears itself when freed from the confines of the hospital.”
“Forgiven,” she smiled, “I like that side of you.” She realized the honesty of those words and tried to compensate. “I’m sure you know. everything takes me longer,” she continued. “Simple things. Things I never had to think about before.”
Her gaze dropped briefly to the table.
“I broke a mug this morning,” she added, almost as an afterthought.
Brew’s expression softened.
“Casualty of war?”
She let out a quiet laugh.
“One of many. I’ve lost count. This could get costly. ”
“But you’re still trying.”
It wasn’t a question.
She looked back up at him.
“Yes,” she said. “I am.”
