Page 42 of Cinnamon Strudel
“Can you refill my water bottle?”
“Of course.” He took the bottle and started for the kitchen. “How about snacks?”
“Yes, please.”
“Sweet or salty?”
“I was hoping you’d surprise me.” When he returned with an option for both, she tugged on his hand. “Do you have time to sit with me for a little?”
“If you’re okay with me working on my laptop.”
“I would love that very much.”
With a kiss to her hair, Morgan didn’t hesitate to grab his laptop and settle beside her. Only, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He focused hard, brows furrowed over a tablet as his hands worked the laptop. Her heart filled with pride at the simple thought of how he managed his life. It was nothing other than appreciation, because if she were to be in that position, she would no doubt be terrified of everything.
“You haven’t moved for the past couple of minutes. Are you alright?”
“Just staring at you like a creep.”
His head turned to face her, brows arching. “And why is that?”
“I’m not sure if I should share.”
His expression turning serious, he shifted his whole body, fingers finding her arm and running over her skin until he’d taken her hand. “Something I should worry about?”
“No, I was just admiring you.”
“And why wouldn’t you like to share your thoughts? Is it because you don’t want to feed my ego?”
She sighed and laced her fingers between his. “I’m… proud of you. Saying it out loud though I’m afraid you’ll think my words are pitiful. I just realised that if I were in your shoes I wouldn’t leave my house. I can’t even wear headphones in public because I’m terrified of missing something. I get anxiety when I drive somewhere I’ve never been because parking makes me nervous. You face that on a much larger scale every day. I don’t know, I was just smacked with a big dose of reality.”
“It’s different for you. You’ve had good enough eyesight your entire life. I don’t know anything else. I see it like a poor man standing in front of a Lamborghini and wondering what it would feel like to drive it. I envy it sometimes, but it doesn’t keep me up at night with jealousy.”
“So, you think it would have been harder if you lost your sight later in life?”
“Definitely. Just thinking of losing what I have now scares me shitless. I know how to read and write, I refused to learn braille. I guess, if I lost all of it, I would feel more afraid of it.”
“But is that a possibility?”
“No, my sight isn’t degenerative. I mean, I’m sure it might happen naturally just like everyone else, but no quicker than normal.”
“If you were to come over to my apartment, what would help you feel comfortable?”
“I’m like a bull in a china shop, so you should hide anything breakable.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, though I have to work on my messiness and my rather horrible habit of not putting things where they belong.”
“Well, if I’m at your place I assume you’d be there as well—then you can be the one to search for things.”
She squeezed his hand, loving how rosy his cheeks were and how his lips always parted oh so slightly with each of his smiles. “Well, if we survive everything after the honeymoon phase and I end up moving here, I have to start working on things now.”
“Ah, so I’m not just a fling.”
“I hope not.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and softly kissed her palm. “Good. Now get some work done or I’ll have to hide in the office again.”
“Meanie,” she mumbled but returned to her tablet.
