After they left the hospital, Ezra and Emily turned away from the East River, away from the rushing traffic on FDR Drive, and Ezra said, “I know you wanted dinner out tonight . . . but I’m afraid I won’t be the best company.”
Emily took his hand. “How about pizza and Law and Order?” she asked, as they headed west to Lexington Avenue, the hospital buildings giving way to tall towers of condos. “Special Victims Unit.” It was one of their go-tos. An easy way to spend time with each other but still be in their own minds. Together but apart.
“Throw in a bottle of wine, and you have yourself a date.”
Emily paused.
Ezra noticed. “Wait,” he said. “It’s . . . did your period . . . ?”
“Not yet,” she said. “But I’m not going to get too excited. It still might.”
Ezra pulled Emily to him and kissed her in the middle of the sidewalk, people swirling around them. His hands wrapped around her waist and held her body against his. She could feel the hardness of his muscles against the softness of her breasts. She loved how her body yielded to his.
“Get a room!” a cabbie shouted out the window of his taxi as he sped by, but they didn’t care. They barely even noticed.