::THIRTY FIVE::

“I’m sorry.”

In the end it’s all I can say, whispering it over and over as I hold her, my nose buried in her hair. I don’t know if sorry can make up for the things she’s had to hear but I can’t stop it anyway. I’m sorry. Her arms are wrapped tight around my neck, her face buried in my shoulder. Her breath, our breath, was ragged at first, before slowly evening out again as we held each other. I hold her tight, afraid that if I let go for even a second, she’ll change her mind and be gone and I’ll never see her again.
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::THIRTY FOUR::

“She really doesn’t like me much, does she.” Candice’s voice, sharp and hard, can still be heard from the kitchen. D’s already shushed her once, or tried to but I know that’s never been much of a help. Candice will continue until she’s done, whether you think she’s done or not, she’s been that way since I first met her when she moved into the neighbourhood at nine.
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::THIRTY THREE::

It’s already late, the sun slanting through a small gap in the curtains in a ray of pale light across the foot of the bed. She had kicked the sheets and blankets off her in her sleep and the band of light fell over her ankles in a ribbon. I’ve been awake for an hour already, with her cuddled to my chest. When she stirred I caressed her back to sleep, braced on my elbow behind her. She would purr and cuddle closer to me, her back curled into my chest. “Good morning, beautiful.” Her back stretches one way and then the other, like a cat, even her toes curl.
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::THIRTY TWO::

I called Alvarez once we got back to the motel, kissing Jeanette softly before she padded over to the bathroom to get cleaned up. She’s singing to herself again, almost so quiet I can’t hear her. “Sorry, it’s late Alvarez.” It’s about seven o’clock now, I would have called sooner but didn’t want to bother him in the middle of dinner.
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::THIRTY ONE::

The room still smells faintly of chocolate, so does her skin, the massage oil making it softer than it was before, if that’s possible. She’s sleeping soundly, letting out an occasional sigh when she rustles in her sleep, always wiggling closer to me. She’s cute, in a way that makes me grin every time I think about her, every time I look at her.
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::THIRTY::

“I thought you had some sort of a heart attack on me, Vetter. I thought I’d have to call 911, maybe get them to send an ambulance out to that motel and get you kick started.”
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::TWENTY NINE::

My head hurts.

That’s putting it lightly. It’s cool in the motel room, the smell of rain making everything feel that much cooler, the air almost crisp. I usually leave the curtains open at home. Lets face it, I haven’t cared to close them, or even pay that much attention to them. Jeanette and Adriana put them up for me, when I was putting my house in some sort of order, and I haven’t touched them since. Jeanette’s house. Jeanette would do that for me, the small things I would never even think to do for myself. So I’m more used to seeing her wake under the pale sunlight of dawn.
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::TWENTY EIGHT::

She’s definitely not kidding. Just shy, so very shy and unsure, in her own maddeningly seductive way. We’re standing so close I can almost feel her heart race and her breath is shallow. If I didn’t know her better I would think she was afraid. She’s somewhere between fear and excitement, staying as still as she can so she won’t bolt. Shivering, her exposed skin erupts in a rash of goosebumps and I don’t think it’s because she’s soaked to the skin. Anticipation, we’ve both taken a huge step, and she’s waiting, waiting to see if I’m going to laugh or make a joke. If I’m playing with her.
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::TWENTY SEVEN::

I didn’t move when I woke up with her on the couch, still curled up with each other in the same positions we were in when we fell asleep. Her weight shifts in tiny movements as she works her way out from under my arm, stilling when I move a little, before continuing and sliding onto the floor beside the couch. She thinks I’m still asleep. If I were to open my eyes now, she’d be looking to see if I had moved, her body crouched on the floor before she gets up and pads quietly to the bathroom.
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::TWENTY SIX::

I sat out there for a while running through several different ways to ask her, turning the ring over and over in my hands. The more I said it, the less nervous I felt until I sat with my elbows resting on my knees holding her ring. Hers. Jeanette. Who I wanted to marry, who I wanted to be my wife.
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