Page 46 of So This Is Love

I playfully smack his chest. “I do not snore!”

I fold my legs under me to sit criss-cross and lean my shoulder against Bryce’s.

“How are you?” I ask softly.

Bryce being vulnerable and sharing his grief with me last night isn’t something I want to gloss over or minimize because it's a big deal. Of all the people he could’ve gone to last night he chose me and I want to honor that. To hold space for his feelings, for his grief, because he deserves it.

“I’m okay,” he replies. “Grief is a bitch sometimes. It's been years so I guess it shouldn’t hurt as much anymore, but it does.”

“There’s no timeline for when you should be done grieving the loss of someone you love. Despite what they say, time doesn’t heal all wounds.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around me.

“For what?”

“For being here.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” he says. “I literally woke you up out of your sleep and you were here when I needed you. That’s a big deal to me.”

I turn so I can see Bryce’s face fully and when I do I can see the sincerity in his eyes. My heart swells at the gratitude displayed so prominently all over his face and I can feel all the emotions that I’ve held back, pushed down and closed behind the door of ‘friendship’ clawing to fight their way out.

My stomach grumbles, loudly, and we both burst out laughing at the intrusion.

Bryce taps my thigh, signaling for me to stand up, I do and he follows. “Come on, let’s get you some food.”

“That’s okay, I’ll eat when I get home. I’m already really behind on the things I need to get done.”

“Do you have anything due today? Anything that is an absolute necessity that you do?” he asks.

“Well no, but I-”

“Eat first,” he says, cutting me off, standing to his full height. “And then I’ll take you home. The work will still be there after you eat.”

“Are you holding me hostage?” I ask looking up at him.

“Is that what you want to call it? Correct me if I’m wrong but I don’t think hostages get breakfast made for them in a penthouse in the city.”

Bryce opens the door and holds it open for me to walk through first and I don’t bother protesting anymore. My stomach was growling again at the mention of food again, impatiently insisting that I remedy its emptiness pronto.

I take a seat in one of the stools at the island and watch Bryce move around in the kitchen, opening cabinets and drawers and pulling things out.

“You’re making food for me?” I ask, surprised.

Bryce chuckles at my question before answering. “I am. Is that okay?”

I watch as he pulls out a carton of eggs and some bacon amongst other ingredients. “Yeah of course, I just didn’t expect it, that’s all. I figured that you would have people for these kinds of things. A chef or something.”

“I do have a chef, but I tend to fend for myself for breakfast because I don’t really like rewarmed breakfast foods. And my mom made sure I knew how to cook. She wasn’t having any of that gender roles in the household shit.”

I nod in understanding. “

“What about you?” he asks. “Do you cook?”

“I mean Icancook, like I won’t starve or anything. I just don’t really like cooking, I don't find joy in it the way that other people do.”

Bryce nods his head in understanding and I watch as he cracks a couple of eggs into a bowl in preparation to scramble them.

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