The sun rays streaming in through the open blinds greeted me into the morning, as I stirred from my sleep and groaned, my eyes barely adjusting to all that light. I realised I'd forgotten to close the blinds at night, exhausted as I'd been after three meetings. Fumbling around with closed eyes, I located the button for the blinds and pressed it, sighing in relief when the room became dark. I sank back into the mattress, hand travelling to the other side of the bed.
Empty. Like most Friday mornings.
I dragged myself to the empty spot, and buried my face in the other pillow. Despite the grogginess, my lips broke into a smile when I smelled the familiar fragrances. Yardley. The bathroom shelf stacked the whole range practically. It was the same one, galbanum, apple and bergamot, with classic lavender fougere and warm coriander and clean musks. Over the years, I'd become so well-acquainted with that smell that I'd be able to tell it from a mile off.
My eyes had just started dropping close again when the doorbell rang. I pushed myself off the bed and walked barefoot out of the room, scratching my hair as I walked down the single flight of stairs, up to the front door. It was well and truly morning, the sun bathing the luxurious living room in its warm glow.
"Hey." The six feet of strong flesh was leant against the wall, clad in dark denims and grey tee, feet crossed. I stared at the figure in front of me. Dark hair, green eyes, chiselled jaw, and aquiline nose, with kissable lips, totally lickable neck, hands that were strong and gentle at the same time, arms that could squeeze away all bad memories, and a smile that melted my heart.
He was perfection. Each night that I spent alone, I wished I got more of him. But I also knew why he couldn't give me as much time as he wanted to. He had lives to save. Just like he had saved my life all those years ago.
"Good morning," he smiled, coming away from the wall. I noticed a brightly coloured box in his hands. "Did I wake you?"
I groaned, shook my head, and moved aside, letting him enter. He stared at my face as he walked in, leather loafers making crunching sounds on the floor.
"I assume I did, going by your vocalizations" he laughed, taking off his jacket and tossing it in the direction of the sofa, but it landed on the floor nevertheless. He rolled his eyes, and put the box down on the teakwood table next to the door. "Come here," he said to me, walking over to put the jacket in its proper place. Then he looked at me. "Vivienne, come here."
I groaned again, going up to him. He opened his arms, and I gratefully sank in the embrace, felt a pair of loving hands against my hair.
"Missed you," he whispered as I breathed against a broad shoulder. "Slept well?"
"Mmm." I put my arms around him, closing my eyes, feeling sleep coming over me again. "How was the surgery?"
"We didn't. His pulse was too weak. We kept him under observation through the night, but he wasn't fit for surgery." He held my face up with both hands, smiling softly. "I thought of calling you, but it was late, and you'd be asleep..."
I nodded, moving away from him, and knotting my hair into a bun. "What's this?" I asked, gesturing at the small box he'd put down on the table. He went up to the table and picked up the box, unwrapping it to reveal my favourite dark chocolate. I raised my eyebrows.
"Engagement chocolates." He opened the box, picked one perfect ball of sinful delight and put it into my mouth. Then he leaned in, kissing my lips.
"I love you," he whispered. I felt my breath catching as I tried to chew down the delicious chocolate despite the lump in my throat. Then I put a chocolate into his mouth, laughing when he tried to take it all at once.
Four years. It had felt like such a natural progression when he popped the question over breakfast three weeks ago, complete with a nice cake, a sweet speech, and a ring that I now wore around my neck. His parents hadn't been satisfied with just that, so they were hosting our engagement party that evening. It was supposed to be a big gathering.
"I love you too, Dr Thompson," I reached up to peck his nose, giggled when he caught my lips again. As much as I wanted to curl in his arms and forget I had anywhere to be, there was no way I could stop the ticking clock.
"I need a shower," he announced, pulling away. "Join me?"
I shook my head. "I'll brush my teeth and then brew the coffee."
"Oh, come on," he said longingly, dropping a kiss onto my hair. "Take the day off. We can sleep in."
"Thanks for the offer, but no." I turned around and proceeded to walk back up to the master bedroom, him following me. There was no point making the bed since he was going to sleep in a while, so I grabbed my comb instead and started brushing my hair.
"I heard you fired the newspaper boy." He walked into the attached bath, and a moment later, I heard the splash of urine against porcelain. I sighed, nodding at my own reflection in the mirror. "What happened?" His voice was muffled by the sound of the flush, then the sound of footsteps.
"Don't tell me," I said, walking into the bathroom. "Every week, he skips at least two newspapers. When I ask him, he makes one excuse or the other. And it happens every damn week. I deducted from his wage last month, but he's incorrigible. It's frustrating."
"That's just a couple of bucks a month. How does it matter?" he responded, leaning against the shower stall and watching me put toothpaste on the brush. I turned around and narrowed my eyes at him.
"It isn't about money," I said slowly. "It's about principles. How hard is it to deliver a newspaper properly?" I turned back, put the tube of toothpaste inside the shelf and slammed the door. He laughed quietly, turning around.
"No wonder they're afraid of you at your office." Clothes and shoes were tossed on to the floor of the bathroom. I shoved the toothbrush into my mouth and rolled my eyes as the shower door shut. Okay, I was tough. But then, you couldn't survive without being tough. I hardly gave second chances. I rarely did mercy. All for good reason, of course. No one could blame me for being unfair, because I wasn't. I could hire somebody as effortlessly as I could fire them.
Life had made me tough. I still felt that if I'd been tough earlier on, when I was younger, I could have had a better life.
The shower door opened, a wet figure leaning out.
"Dave, you're dripping water on the floor," I tried to speak with a mouth full of toothpaste.
"Sorry. Pass me the body wash, please," he reached out a hand, dripping some more water. I scanned the bathroom shelf, found the bottle, and quickly shoved it in his hand, mopping up the water with the rug once the door had shut again. The broad silhouette moved against the wet glass of the shower stall, and I could discern his actions, running fingers through his hair, scrubbing his back and armpits, even as his singing vaguely reached my ears through the glass partition. He had a deep, buttery voice, and childhood music training, making him a lot more than a bathroom singer.
I turned around towards the mirror, feeling affection flood my heart. It was good with him home. He made the place come alive in a way only he could.
I rinsed my mouth and washed my face, trying to remember if I had any meeting that day. I was supposed to come home early and then get dressed, then head out for his parents' place. We didn't have a clue about what they had planned. It was supposed to be a surprise, kind of an engagement present. I couldn't believe all of it was actually happening.
"Blushing makes you look lovely." I saw him stepping out of the shower in the mirror, quickly grabbing a towel and tying it around his waist. "I wish you did it more often."
He walked up to me, one hand holding the towel close, other one raking back wet hair. He was gorgeous. Six-pack abs, toned sinewy muscles, strong, utterly lickable thighs and arms, and...
"Look at me," he turned me around, snagged a towel to gently pat my face dry. Then he smiled, kissing my forehead. "Sure you can't take the day off?"
"Yeah." I leaned into him, running my hand through the smattering of dark hair on his chest. "I'm kind of nervous."
"About taking the day off?"