Page 26 of The Weight of Love

I peel one eye open and see him sitting up against the headboard. Sadly, he has clothes on.

“Coffee.”

It’s not a question, just a statement. Clark looks down at me with an amused shake of his head and hands me the mug in his hand.

“Is it black or frilly?”

“Frilly?”

“Yeah, milk and sugar and crap.”

“Black, Darlin’. I don’t do frills.”

I slam the rest of his coffee with a wince as it burns my mouth a bit.

“Shoot, ow. What time is it?”

“Not super late, only a little after eight.”

“Shit, I need to go. Kids.”

He suddenly withdraws. There it is again, a heavy shift in his mood, and I can’t shake the guilt pooling in my stomach.

Nice one. You did it again. You shouldn’t have come. This was a terrible idea.

After a brief trip to the bathroom, I’m ready to survey the damage and get myself looking halfway human again.

Clark’s leaning against the counter with a large travel coffee in hand.

Seriously, he’s way too good in bed. Thoughtful, too? Nope. It’s a bad idea. Don’t do it.

“Can’t have you fall asleep on the drive home. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

“Thanks. Coffee is my entire love language. You don’t have to walk me out, though.”

“I didn’t ask, Darlin’.”

I take the coffee with a slight shake of my head.

Shut up; you know you love it.

We get to my car, and he opens the door for me. I stop short and look up at him.

“Thank you.”

He pulls me into a tight hug with one arm, and I inhale the clean smell of his cologne, which makes me feel safe.

“Be safe driving. Text me when you get home.”

He looks like he’s going to leave it at that, but then he leans down and kisses me. It’s different. This isn’t the drowning kiss. This is withdrawn and sad, and it leaves my lips burning with nothing but more questions.

November 29th

9:17 AM

I made it home safely. Thanks again for the coffee.

10:29 AM Thanks for letting me know.