Chapter Forty-Seven

IT’S AUGUST, BUT I feel like turning the fireplace on, so I grab a large pillow, place a towel on top of it, and lay the puppy down on top of it. Her head nestles into the pillow and within minutes, she goes back to sleep.

Maybe I need some of what she took.

After getting the fire started, I go to the kitchen and grab a bottle of wine and two glasses. Donovan will be here in a few minutes, but I’m starving, so I open up the refrigerator and pull out some romaine lettuce, a green pepper, yellow onion, croutons, feta cheese, and Greek dressing. Donovan likes olives, so I pull those out too, to put on top of his salad. Just as I grab two bowls out of the cabinet, the front door opens. A few seconds later, he walks into the kitchen and puts his keys on the hook next to the pantry.

“Hey,” he says.

I look over at him, seeing how red his eyes are. “I’m making us a salad,” I say, feeling bad that I asked him to come over when it’s obvious he’s exhausted.

“Sounds good.” He glances over at the wine and the two glasses.

“I think we both need that tonight.”

He gives me a weary smile, and nods in agreement.

“You look tired. Do you want to go and lie down on the sofa?”

He walks over to me, pulling me to him. His arms wrap around my waist, and he holds me for a few minutes without saying a word.

“Donovan, are you okay?”

“I am now. Where’s our puppy?”

I smile.

I love that he said “our” puppy.

“She woke before I took her from the car, but the minute I put her down on the pillow, she went back to sleep. Snoring too! She’s in the living room by the fireplace. I thought a warm fire would help her settle in.”

As I finish making the salads, Donovan walks out of the kitchen and heads toward the living room. I grab a serving tray and place the salads on it with a loaf of French bread, then grab a small plate, pour some olive oil on it, and add a couple dashes of black pepper to the oil’s center.

I’ve learned how to cook during the months that Donovan and I have been together. In Paris, my refrigerator was always empty because I pretty much ate out every night, whereas now, I actually buy groceries so Donovan and I can cook a meal together.

“You need some help in there?” Donovan yells from the living room.

“Can you come and grab the wine and glasses for me?”

“Yes, dear.”

I laugh, but I can’t help but wonder, can it really be this easy? Donovan and I just seem to have slid gracefully into each other’s lives.

We enjoy each other’s company so much, and the conversations between us are always smooth and uncomplicated. We can sit and talk for hours.

No drama.

When we’re not together, we’re talking on the phone. There have been many nights, thus far, when neither of us went to sleep until the other couldn’t keep their eyes open.

Some nights, he comes over, sits on the sofa, and reads a book while I watch a movie. Other nights, I go to his home, and we play board games.

I never even knew that I liked them so much!

Monopoly, of course, is my favorite.

Briana joins us sometimes, but she hates to play Monopoly with me because I usually end up owning most of the good real estate, then she sulks like a little girl.

As he walks back into the kitchen, I look up at him, and realize… I’m falling in love.

Stop lying to yourself! You aren’t falling in love, you’re already in love!

“She’s still knocked out, but she’s cute. She looks like a golden retriever.”

“I thought so as well. The vet says she’s not a purebred but mixed with one.”

“Oh, so she’s a mutt then,” he says, grabbing the wine and glasses off the counter.

“If so, she’s a cute mutt,” I say, following him into the living room with the tray.

Donovan tosses a few pillows on the floor, and we plop down in front of the coffee table.

“You know, I just realized that we never eat in the dining room.”

“Do you want to go and eat in there now?” he asks.

“Not really. That fire feels good.”

He leans over and kisses me. “How are you doing?”

I sigh. “I was a mess earlier,” I say, looking over at the puppy. “But now that I see how comfortable she is, I feel so much better. Briana had to remind me that it wasn’t my fault.”

“I’m sure that was a hard choice to make in that split second.”

“You have no idea.”

He looks toward the fire, a hint of sadness crossing his face.

“You’re not ready to go back to work yet, are you?” I ask, thinking maybe that’s it. We’ve enjoyed just getting together when we wanted, but starting Monday, that will change. “Did you finish getting your lesson plans ready?”

He leans over and kisses me again. “June and July went by fast, but I’m eager to see some of my students again, although I’ll hate that it means we won’t be together as much. As far as my lesson plans go, I stayed up until almost two o’clock working on them. Then, I got up this morning and went to the school to make sure the lecture hall that I use was on the schedule and that my office had been cleaned.”

I relax. Yep, that was it. I knew it.

“Sounds like you had a long day.”

“I did, but now I’m starving.”

“Me, too,” I say, handing him his salad.

“This looks good, Chef.”

I smile, proud of myself, even though it’s just a salad. At least it’s something I didn’t purchase prepackaged for a change.

“Do you want some of this bread?” I ask, breaking off a piece, then dipping it into the olive oil. He puts his fork down and looks over at me. He looks troubled.

“Raine, why didn’t you call and tell me about the accident?”

I put my bread down on the side of my bowl. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, you sent me a text message, but that wasn’t until much later.”

“I’m sorry. I was a mess there for a while, and I just… I just needed some time to process it all.” I reach over and place my hand on top of his for a moment. “You have to understand that it’s been just me for the last five years. I’m still getting used to having a boyfriend.”

“I can understand that.”

He turns and glances over at the fire again.

“Please don’t stay mad at me.”

He turns his attention back to me and then moves closer. His fingers gently touch the side of my cheek as he brushes back a piece of my hair that has fallen. “I’m not mad at you. I’m in love with you. And as ridiculous as this sounds, I just want to be your everything. I want to be the one you rely on. All the time. The one you reach for. I don’t know… It kind of hurts that you didn’t—”

I move closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “Shh. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Tears prickle my eyes, his words so sweet and emotive, they break me. Perhaps that’s why I don’t—can’t—share easily. Because I am scared of relying on him and then maybe, someday and for some reason, losing him. Sometimes, it’s easier to rely on only myself.

Our eyes connect, the fire dancing between them.

“You don’t have to say it back. The love thing. It’s okay. I just wanted you to know how I feel. How much you mean to me.”

I lean in, pressing my lips upon his, praying that somehow, through this kiss, he can tell how I feel about him too; I can’t seem to get the words to slip from my lips.

Why?

“What are we going to name our puppy?” he asks as he gently pulls back.

I look over at her. “Let’s name her Ruthie.”

His eyes join mine. “I agree. She’s a strong little thing. Yes, let’s name her Ruthie.”

Her eyes open slowly as she lifts her head and looks up at both of us.

“I guess she heard that and likes it.”