Page 82 of Possessed By You
He’s never been one to encourage it.
I nod, smoothing my hands over the shirt, ridding it of any wrinkles. “I know I don’t need to wish you luck.”
He leans in, kissing me gently. “I like kissing you. You know that?”
***
My fingers dance along the bed, rattling against the mattress. It’s only when I realize I’m alone that I open my eyes, reluctant to meet the light. The sun is rising, brighter due to the clouds that the rays beam around onto London.
A brief search around the room and the lack of warmth in the turned-out covers tell me Benjamin isn’t here, but he was. Forcing myself to leave the warmth of the sheets, I move into the bathroom to splash water on my face and brush my teeth. The robe hanging on the door cures the out of bed shivers. The suite outside the bedroom door smells of coffee—fresh coffee.
He’s here, somewhere.
His computer is open on the coffee table, along with a notepad and pen.
Noticing it’s not the usual work figures and graphs I’m used to seeing, I peek at the tab title, freezing when I notice the M.D. marking. Multiple tabs are still open, medical sites explaining severe cases of anemia, what the causes in pregnancy could be, how to conceive a healthy baby with a chronic disease.
Shell-shocked, I dare to grab the notepad, reading his elegant scribbling…a checklist of necessary precautions, reminders to call a doctor. Tidbits he’s taken from real life stories, some hopeful, some frightening.
I wish I could have told him not to look. It only makes it worse.
At the sight of the cracked-open French doors leading out onto the balcony, I suppose I’ve located him. It groans and squeaks at the same time, alerting him of my presence. In a robe that matches my own, he tilts his head enough to see me.
The sky is painted colorfully. Upon the horizon are yellows and oranges, gradually transforming into a soft baby blue, an indication of a perfect day. His eyes follow me as I step to the edge of the balcony and lean into the brick.
“You’re up early.”
“Mm, couldn’t sleep.”
I stretch my arms out along the railing. Despite the dark eyes that indicate lack of sleep, he’s magnificent in the new morning light. Dawn compliments him. He’s lost weight in the past weeks, which is probably the only reason the robe fits him.
I never tell Benjamin how much I love seeing him right out of bed. The mussed hair, the slimness of his eyes, his taut mouth. He clearly wrapped the robe around himself simply to be presentable around the surrounding balconies. It hangs open halfway down his chest, tied loosely at the waist.
It’s too chilly to be out here without it.
“Why are you up?” I ask him.
“I’ve been remembering.”
“Remembering what?”
“A lot. What my life was like a few years ago.”
“When you were the king of bachelors?”
He smirks. “That’s an interesting way to put it.”
“It’s the truth, isn’t it?”
He nods. “I keep thinking of that day, the one you brought up when you told me you were pregnant.”
“The night we first slept together.”
“Yeah.”
“What about it?”
“I went into that bed expecting to come out of it with some pleasure, an inevitable release of the strange hold you had on me until that point. Instead, I came out of it blind in love.” He shakes his head. “I told you that I didn’t love you then, when we fought over the baby, but I’m realizing that’s not even true. I did.”
