“Please. Chicken salad is nobody’s favourite food.”
He laughs, thankfully.
“I didn’t ask you what you like to eat to stay in shape, but what you love, what you crave in those moments when all you need is comfort and warmth.”
“I love stew. Made with Guinness.”
“Really?”
“It reminds me of my childhood.”
I want to ask him about it now, but I don’t want to take that step, not tonight.
“The smell that fills the kitchen…” He sighs and closes his eyes.
I have to restrain my desire to caress him and hold him, even though I know he needs it. I sense it is not what he wants.
“And do you ever allow yourself to have that?”
“Once a year. On my birthday. There’s a pub near my place. I take it there and eat it at home.”
“Do you have a favourite cake?”
“White chocolate and raspberry.”
“I love it! I also like the white chocolate and raspberry muffins. My favourite, I think… Yes.”
“We have something in common.”
“Strange, isn’t it?”
“Not so much. I’m sure if we dig deep, we’ll find more things to share.”
Apart from this perfect moment?
I don’t think I’ve ever had anything like that in my life. Even if what we have is fake, this moment is not.
And I intend to make it mine and keep it with me, even when everything else is over and we are just a faded memory in a mind that has inevitably moved on.
No one will take this moment away from me, nor the emotions I feel, the sense of peace that his voice gives me, and the desire to wake up tomorrow morning with his eyes lighting up the new day ahead.
Rowan
The next morning I got up earlier than usual, despite the few hours of rest. After Seth’s return, we stayed up talking for quite a while. We need to become really familiar with each other; otherwise, the judge won’t buy it. We don’t have a lot of time to do that. Between my day job, his night job and the kids, I think the only time we can try to connect is when we are awake in bed.
A bed we now share.
I try not to think about it for now, and concentrate on making coffee, which in this house we apparently still make the old-fashioned way, with just an electric kettle and a powder of dubious quality.
I make a mental note to stop by the house later to pick up my coffee machine when Logan joins me in the kitchen.
“Good morning.”
“Good morning. Isn’t it a bit early for school?”
“I thought I would work on my project before I go.”
“Project? What project?”
