"I just want to be alone for a while. Can I call you tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Of course, baby. Go back to sleep," I whisper against his cheek while inhaling his scent. Then I simply roll over and pull the blanket over my body.
"Uhhh…" he says questioningly. "Alone?"
"Oh, I’m not leaving," I respond frankly. "You do whatever you need to do. I won’t bother you. But if you decide you want to talk, I’ll be right here."
"Sarah, I can’t argue with you right now. I really need some space."
"Then roll over. It’s a king-sized bed."
"Please," he begs, but the word catches in his throat.
"I know you think being alone is the solution. And I’m not saying it’s not. I’ll leave if you want. But you should know I’m going to be sleeping on the floor just outside the bedroom door. I’ve been where you are. I know it gets easier. I also know easier is an impossible notion for you to even entertain right now. I’m well aware you think wallowing by yourself is the only answer. However, tomorrow morning, I’m making you breakfast. You don’t have to eat it, but I’m making it all the same. I can’t fix the way you feel, not even with my famous bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich, but I can be here while you suffer. You may want me to leave, Leo. But as long as I’m breathing, you will never truly be alone." I almost choke on the words. They might just be the closest thing I have to tell him that could ever adequately portray my feelings. Love wouldn’t even be enough right now.
"Sarah," he starts but never finishes.
"Together. You told me that a while back. So let’s do this."
With a simple nod, he scoots over to the far side of the bed and rolls away from me. It may seem like a dismissal, but it’s a victory in my book.
Saturday…
"HEY, CAN I buy something on your Kindle?" Sarah asks from the other side of the couch.
"Have at it," I answer, uninterested.
"It might be construed as porn."
My eyes snap to hers and I blink twice. Her only response is a shrug.
"Sure," I respond then go back to staring at the ceiling.
"AS YOUR woman, can I ask Johnson to run errands for me?" Sarah asks randomly.
I lift my head from the dining room table and give her a questioning look.
"Just a small one, and it’s not like ‘go fetch me lunch’ or something."
"Then, by all means, go for it," I answer dryly.
Sarah smiles wide and I look away.
"YOU WANT something to eat?" Sarah asks.
"No," I answer shortly.
Sunday…
"I SENT Johnson to buy it for us." Sarah smiles proudly, popping in a DVD. Breakin’ 2: Electric Boogaloo.
"What in the fucking hell is that?" I ask with a curled lip.
"Ohhhh, Leo. You are seriously missing out. From the self-proclaimed master of terrible eighties movies, I’m actually disappointed in you right now. This might possibly be the worst eighties movie ever to be made," she laughs.
I stretch a leg down the couch to tangle with hers.
Monday…
"I’M STARVING," I inform Sarah.
"You want me to cook you something?" She puts the Kindle down on the nightstand and rolls to face me.
"Chinese?" I suggest.
"I’ll order delivery. Sesame chicken?"
"That works," I answer absently.
"YOU DIDN’T eat much," Sarah whispers from across the bed. "You want me to get you something else?"
"Nah. That new place wasn’t very good."
"That’s the same place we always order from." She offers me a small smile.
I reach out and grab her hand, entwining our fingers. "Really? It tasted different."
Tuesday…
"YOU’RE OUT of man shampoo," Sarah says, pouring some of the shampoo she keeps at my house into her hand.
"I’ve been too busy to shop," I respond as she reaches up with both hands, scrubbing my hair into a lather.
"It’s okay. Mine smells better anyway."
"WHEN I first met you, I remember thinking how gorgeous your eyelashes were. They are seriously wasted on a man. I’d kill to have them," Sarah says while lying in bed, tracing a finger across my eyebrows.
I don’t even bother responding. I simply snake out an arm and pull her against my chest.
I WAKE up with my cock throbbing and my hips moving of their own volition against Sarah’s ass. I’m desperate to get inside her. She’s still sound asleep, spooned in front of me. Her hair is in a ponytail, but the ends tickle my nose as I greedily breathe her in. Sarah’s beautiful, and that’s not a superficial observation. On every level, both inside and out, she’s…well, it.