Page 45 of Landing Her Eagle
Pierre chuckles. “What makes you think you won’t have privacy to speak with your girlfriend? Our children wouldn’t be waking you at the crack of dawn crawling into your bed or crying during the night. They only do that to us. Staying here is like staying at a hotel but without the privacy and room service.”
His dry wit and obvious adoration of his wife and children are two of the things I most appreciate about Pierre. When Ariana soon follows her brother into nap time, I spend the couple of hours the kids are sleeping on me talking with their parents about my relationship with Daphne and my hopes for the future.
“I want to have what you two have one day—a loving marriage, happy children, knowing your partner is your person, and professional success. I truly believe Daphne and I can have that. We simply need to figure out how we can be in the same place at the same time and feel like we aren’t giving up everything in order to make the other person happy.”
I’m embarrassed to be twenty-six years old and just now having to compromise in a relationship. With past girlfriends, if we didn’t want the same things, we’d part ways. Our feelings weren’t deep enough to sacrifice for each other. I’m realizing that love isn’t so much about sacrificing, but more about compromising. It shouldn’t be one person giving up so the other person is happy. Instead, both people should work together so everyone is happy.
“I know I want to be with Daphne, and I’m willing to compromise to make sure we’re together. By the same token, I’m self-aware enough to understand that, long-term, I need to still travel and experience new things. I like to be outdoors. I don’t want to be in an office doing the same thing day in, day out. It would be so easy to work for my uncle and stay home to make Daphne happy, but I’m afraid I’ll feel stifled and get frustrated.”
Knowing Daphne like I do, she’s probably having similar thoughts—traveling would be fun at first because it’s new, but she wouldn’t enjoy living out of a suitcase. She enjoys having a schedule and her own nest.
After the kids wake up from their naps, Pierre and I take them outside for some fresh air while Mari finishes up dinner. I kick a ball with Henri. Okay, I kick a ball and watch him run after it, my thoughts on what Marisol said about me and my situation.
She made me sound like I’m selfish and controlling. I’m not. Of course I plan. How do you get things done if you don’t plan? There are people who just react to what happens and never make anything happen. Reactive versus proactive. That describes me and Daphne. She deals with the things that happen to her, but she rarely makes them happen. I’m all about making things happen. I don’t want to be at the mercy of what the world throws at me. I want the world at my mercy. Let it adapt to me, not me adapt to it. Is that difference because of our basic personalities, or is it a human versus shifter thing? I’m a golden eagle shifter, the largest bird of prey in North America. Our kind is an apex predator, and we rule our skies.
In a romantic relationship, though, we can’t be predator and prey. We need to be partners. It freaks me out she doesn’t think about our future. That’s all I think about. I’m certain we can have a glorious life together. Does she not see that? Can shenotsee that? Is she afraid to see that?
Henri carries the ball back to me, and I kick it again, sending him off giggling to chase it. Is Daphne afraid to think about our future because she doesn’t trust it will come true? Is she afraid to plan for the future because she knows it can be taken away in an instant? That causes my heart to ache for her. I picture her like a shipwreck survivor being tossed in the ocean, clinging to a bit of debris and trying to stay afloat. Of course, she won’t let go of it and take off swimming, hoping she’ll find land. The life raft has to come to her.
I will be her life raft.
Pierre and I tidy up after we finish eating the delicious meal Mari prepared so she can enjoy a glass of wine. Henri is looking at a storybook and telling the story to Ari in French. It must be his favorite book because it sounds like he has it down pat, even making funny voices for the different animal characters like his parents must do.
Mari gives me a kiss on the cheek as I prepare to leave their home to go to my hotel. “I’m so happy to see you, Logan. It has been too long. Next time, bring Daphne.”
“I’ll do my best, Marisol. You know you can always visit us too.” I shake Pierre’s hand and pull him in for a hug. I already cuddled the kids and said my goodbyes to them. “It’s not Madrid or Paris, but New Jersey has interesting things too.”
“We’re aware of that, Logan. We were waiting for you to realize it.” Well, damn, there goes Mari dropping more truth bombs. “Yes, you’re a travel photographer, but do you realize people travel to take pictures of what’s in your own backyard? You don’t have to travel all over the world to be successful.” She shrugs. “If it’s the photography that’s important to you, there are plenty of subjects there. If it’s the travel that’s the focus and the photography is a way to support the travel, that’s a different story. I guess it depends on what is important to you.”
I hug her again and press a kiss to her cheek. “You’re an excellent friend, Mari. Pierre, you’re a lucky, lucky man.”
Leaving their home, I drive to the historic hotel where I’m staying. It isn’t as sleek and modern as many of the hotels in Madrid, but that is part of why I like it. I don’t need all the bells and whistles and fitness centers. I’d rather have a place with character, and this place has that in spades. My room is clean, and the bed is incredibly comfortable. I take a shower to wash off the travel grime and crawl naked between the sheets. This feels incredible. Not as nice as my bed at home, but that’s because Daphne isn’t in it with me. I set three alarms on my phone, five minutes apart, starting at right before one in the morning so that I’m awake in time to call Daphne. It’ll be seven in the evening for her, and she should be home from work and grocery shopping.
The five hours of sleep I’ll get before speaking with her will hopefully erase the bags forming under my eyes. I’m not vain, but Daph will worry if I appear exhausted. I also know she finds me irresistible when I’m sleep-rumpled, and I always want to give my sunshine what she wants. And give her what she needs, even if she doesn’t know she needs it.
Wait, that sounds controlling.
Now that Mari has called my attention to it, all I can think about is what a controlling ass I can be sometimes. That’s the last thing I want to be with Daphne. I love her. I don’t want to control her. I want us to work together for our goals and to find compromises for those times when our goals don’t perfectly align. I feel part of these six weeks we’re apart is going to be spent reading some self-help and relationship books. Because if I’m going to deserve Daphne and give her what she really needs, I need to learn a lot.
27
DAPHNE
“Good morning!”I call out, entering our area of the office.
Mallory is in the kitchen fixing a mug of cocoa.
“Good morning. Aren’t you cute? I love the red shoes! Are you doing okay?”
“Thanks. I went spelunking in my closet.” I grab my mug and fill it with hot water, leaning my hip against the counter while I unwrap my tea bag and drop it in. “I’m okay. Logan arrived in Madrid safely.”
Grabbing a stirrer, sweetener, and a paper towel, I pick up my mug and walk to my desk.
“I apologize in advance if I’m mopey or grumpy. I also apologize for constantly saying, ‘It’s only five weeks. We got this.’ It’s my mantra. I guess it’s my version offake it until you make it.”
Mallory smiles. “You do you, boo. It sucks to be apart. I can’t do it.” She stirs her cocoa to get the powder mix to dissolve. “But the sex when you’re back together is going to be awesome.” She blows on her cocoa and takes a cautious sip. “Welcome home sex is stellar.” She grimaces. “Well, it is when you’ve both been abstaining while separated. When you find out you’re the only one who has been celibate while he’s gone because he caught an STI while away…it sucks.”
I have a feeling that’s a story Mallory needs to share over a box of wine. She must see the expression of horror on my face because she laughs.
