Page 46 of Recollection

“What?” I blink at him in exaggerated innocence.

“Don’t tell me that!”

“Why not?”

“I’m having a hard enough time controlling myself around you as it is.” There’s a fire in his eyes now that he’s always trying to hide. It’s blazing hotly. “I don’t need that visual to compound it.”

“Oh.” I blush again, pleased and just a little self-conscious. “Sorry about that.”

Both of us know I’m not sorry at all.

eight

Past

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FOR THE ENTIRE WEEKafter I saw him in the shower, we go through our daily routines, alternating between playful teasing and warm bonding.

I never push him to kiss me again, although I occasionally remind him it’s what I want. It’s a boundary he’s set for himself. Even though it’s irrational, he takes it seriously, and I’m not going to plow over his choices or try to seduce him into forgetting them.

I want to be with him, but he needs to want it too—freely and unreservedly. Until he does, there’s nothing I can do but enjoy him in any way I’m allowed.

Inexplicably, I’m happier this week than I can ever remember being before. I might not have everything I want, but I have real companionship, fellowship, emotional intimacy.

I’m safe with him to be myself. I don’t have to always be nice and agreeable and perfectly pleasant.

I can simply be me and trust that he’s not going to blow up on me, reject me, or use me for his own purposes.

It’s freeing. Thrilling.

I might be wrong, but I think Arthur has never been happier either.

On Saturday evening a week later, Stella prepares us a dinner out on the back patio because the weather has turned warm and pleasant. She sets the table beautifully with silver, crystal, and flowers, and she lights candles in big glass globes all around the table.

It’s the most romantic setting I’ve ever experienced. I’m speechless as I gaze around and then join Arthur at the table.