“And this is the alarm code?” he confirms.
“Yeah, and don’t forget to press the hash button at the end. This key’s for the front door. And this one's for the truck. Not gonna need it while we're overseas. I'll text you the address this arvo.”
“Cheers, Damo.”
“We'll be back on the fifth, a day or two before Franko re-opens.”
“Got it. I'll give you a shout if I need anything.”
“You can try, but me and Ellie will be too busy skinny dipping in Phuket. Guess I better hang out with the folks occasionally too, since they're the ones paying.”
He and Damien gave each other one of those bro-slap handshakes.
The one with a pat on the back.
A blokey farewell that I’ve learned is the norm around here.
Nothing like the tender hugs he gives me when we say goodnight.
The way he holds me behind closed doors.
It’s almost as if there are two of him.
I’m trying my best to tolerate the closed off, barely present facade.
Because if I’m patient, I get to spend more time with him.
The real him.
The caring passionate Porter that I’m falling for.
He lets me see every layer.
And he seems to be falling for me too, if he ever dares admit it.
Am I an idiot for getting my hopes up?
???
“Two weeks isn’t that long,” he says, holding me in his arms that night.
“Guess so,” I reply, trying to hide how much I’ll miss him.
“He's lending me his truck too. Saves me lugging a suitcase on the train.”
“Yep,” I sigh.
“Gotta be in Noosa by the twenty second. That’s only a week from now.”
“Franko’s letting you go a day before the kitchen closes?”
“Nah, I might have to pull a sickie."
I’m starting to feel dizzy.
My gut begins to twist, knowing that we’ll be apart for sixteen days.
It's not like it’s forever.
