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That was it – my day in my new home. In Nairobi. Alone.
I went to bed around ten thirty, too tired to wait up in the living room. I was determined to stay awake though, wanting to greet Drake when he arrived home, but I must have fallen asleep, for the next thing I knew I woke up to Drake snuggling in close beside me, the lights out, the room in total darkness.
"You're home," I said and turned to face him. He'd brushed his teeth and I could still smell mint on his breath. "What time is it?"
"Eleven fifteen," he said and kissed me. "Sorry to wake you up. I tried to be quiet but I tripped over a box when I turned off the lights."
"Are you all right?' I wrapped my arms around his neck. "I missed you so much. I realized I didn't speak to a single soul today, until now."
"I'm sorry," Drake said and snuggled closer. "Your first art class is tomorrow. You'll meet some other students there, maybe make a friend."
He kissed me once more, as he stroked my hair. I waited for him to do say something to indicate he was in the mood for sex, but he said nothing. He snuggled in closer to me, kissing my shoulder.
Finally, I couldn't hold back. If he wasn't going to initiate anything, I still wanted to talk with him.
"How was your day?" I said, resigning myself to another night without sex.
"Busy. Had my class. Then a demonstration of robotic techniques to some visiting neurosurgeons from Ethiopia. Then OR time. Then, I had to cover for Michael. He went home sick with a cold so I scrubbed in on his cases."
I nodded and ran my fingers through his hair. Then it hit me – Drake had stayed late to take over Michael's cases. That meant he worked with Michael's residents. That meant he spent the evening with Sam.
A surge of jealousy went through me, but I squashed it. I was not going to be that kind of woman. I was going to assume that Drake couldn’t wait to get home to me. He was tired from his busy schedule. I said nothing for a moment, swallowing back my urge to ask about Sam.
Drake must have sensed something for he pulled me closer, and when he spoke, his voice was soft. Almost soothing as if he knew I needed it.
"I'm sorry that you've been alone all day. I promise I'll make it up to you tomorrow."
I smiled in the darkness, knowing that he'd probably be unable to do so until the weekend, but at least the sentiment was there. I had to get used to this. Being separated from Drake and missing him very much was going to be my new reality.
I woke in the middle of the night to the sounds of a guitar coming from somewhere in the house. I felt the bed beside me and Drake was gone, the sheets and coverlet pulled back where he would have lain.
He must have had a hard time sleeping and got up to play for a while, like that time on 8th Avenue when we were first together.
I got up and tiptoed out of the bedroom, searching for him. The sound came from the butler's pantry off the kitchen. The room was about six by ten, and was windowless, with an overhead light fixture and shelves on the walls. I opened the door to see Drake sitting on a stool, his back turned toward the door, his guitar in his arms, playing some song I didn't recognize. He looked up when he noticed me and stopped singing and playing.
"Hi," I said and smiled. "Sorry to interrupt."
"No, that's fine. Sorry I woke you."
"You couldn’t sleep?" I said and went to him, laying a hand on his bare shoulder, his skin smooth under mine. I stroked his neck and he looked up into my eyes, and then closed his, smiling while I ran my fingers through his messy hair, which fell over his eyes.
"Nah," he said. " I'm exhausted but at the same time, I can't fall sleep."
"Insomnia," I said, and leaned against the wall across from him, my arms behind me. "What were you playing? That was nice."
He shrugged and picked out something melodic. "A song that reminded me of you and of us. It's by a musician from LA I found a while ago when I took a break from my father's music. The song is called See You Again by Jason Falkner."
"Keep playing," I said. "It was nice and I hardly ever get to hear you sing or play."
He did, starting from what I assumed was the beginning. The song was about how life can be so intense at times, it's hard to take. The lyrics made my throat close up. The song reminded him of me, of us.
His voice was firm and clear and he sang with confidence, enjoying the music. Of course, being the silly woman that I was, my eyes filled with tears, especially at some of the lyrics and the fact it made him think of me and that's why he wanted to play it.
"That's so sweet," I said and went to him when he finished, kissing him, my hands on his shoulders.
"I miss you," he said. "I'm so busy now, but I won't be this busy the whole time we're here."
"I know," I said, stroking my fingers through his hair. "I miss you, too, but I'll survive. My first class is tomorrow. I can't wait and expect I'll be busy from now on with my art."
