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At my door, I start worrying about what might happen now… Barrett pushes the suitcases past the threshold and stands in the hallway, hands stuffed in his pockets.
“Would you like to meet later for dinner?”
“You’re not coming inside?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “It’s better I let you refresh and rest.”
A mixture of relief and disappointment fills my heart. I’mfuckingdisgusting from that long as hell flight. All I want is a shower and sleep. But I also missed my guy. Sofuckingmuch.
“I’m probably just gonna order something and crash. Rain check on dinner?”
“Okay. What do you feel like? I can put in the order while you get situated.”
The lingering smile that’s been on my face since I saw him at the airport grows up a notch.
“I’ll be fine, love.”
At the endearment, both our pairs of eyes grow wide. It came out naturally, andhe did call mesweetheart…
“I’m leaving now before I come in and show you how much I really missed you. Please call or text me when you’re available. I think we need to talk.”
“About what?” I ask Barrett’s departing form.
“A lot of things,” he replies with a wink before stepping down the stairs.
Oh boy.
***
BARRETT
It’s been twofuckingweeks since we’ve been back from California, and I haven’t seen Mia since I picked her up from the airport. First, we both had to catch up on work, then I had a conference I needed to attend in Zurich. When I returned, she went on a business trip to Dublin.
I know this is nobody’s fault, but I’m fucking losing patience and wondering what type of married life we’ll have.
Even if we lived together, we would not have been able to see much of each other this past fortnight. And that worries me. I know Mia loves her job and so do I mine. I just don’t see what type of compromise we can come up with. Rubbing the heels of my palms over my eyes, I grab my phone, about to call her for our daily check-in, when it rings in my hand.
“Hey, babe. I was about to call you,” I greet, trying to infuse warmth into my voice.
“What’s wrong?” Mia asks me instantly.
“What do you mean?”
“I can hear it in your voice, Barrett. Something’s bothering you.”
Fuck.This woman!
I push through my doubts and fears, and ask, “is this how it’s going to be when we’re married?”
“What do you mean, love?”
“Both of us, always busy outside of our home, not having much time for each other,” I elaborate.
Mia remains quiet for a beat.
“Sometimes, probably. But we’ll be more flexible once we live together.”
“How?” I ask in a voice laden with frustration, and I want to kick myself for talking this way to my Mia.
