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But after two years alone…
It was nice.
And that was something.
When the limousine drove me home around 1 AM, I knew he wanted to come in.
“Should I…?” he asked, leaving the rest unspoken.
“I can’t,” I said as gently as I could. “Not yet.”
“It’s fine,” he said with a smile. “I’m a patient man.”
I let him kiss me again, and then I pulled away. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
When I went to bed, though, I didn’t think about how we’d kissed at midnight.
Instead, I grieved that it hadn’t been with Lars.
But I’m moving on, I reminded myself. I’m moving on.
I made a New Year’s Resolution that I would do just that: move on with my life.
And if Alistair was part of that… so be it.
You know I would always be here for you, don’t you? I would never leave you.
I fell asleep with his voice whispering in my ear.
After having my heart torn out and destroyed, his words felt safe and comforting…
And safe and comforting were enough.
Our weekly dinners became two and three nights a week, and we usually kissed on the couch afterwards.
It took me another month before I went to bed with him.
It was… nice.
It wasn’t anything like the passion and mind-blowing sex I’d had with Lars –
But I forced myself to not compare the two of them. It wasn’t fair.
Nobody could compare to Lars… and now that he was gone, I would only be miserable if I tried to recapture that feeling with someone else.
Being with Alistair was nice, safe, and comfortable.
And I convinced myself that was enough.
I never fell in love with him.
I grew to love him, though. To care about him deeply.
He was kind, attentive, and generous. He treated me like a princess and showered me with gifts.
Plus, since we both worked at MI6, we had a lot in common. He would tell me all sorts of things I knew I shouldn’t be privy to – and it was intoxicating to be close to that much power. I mean, he was on the phone with the Prime Minister every week. The numbers of the most powerful people in government were programmed into his phone.
