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“Patience is a virtue.”
“I’ve never been much on virtues,” he says just before stuffing the syrup-coated pancake into his mouth.
I fight back a laugh. “You don’t say?”
He chews slowly, purposefully savoring, teasing, but never taking his eyes off me.
“This is an amazing gift. And I can’t think of anything I’d love more than to run away with you for a few days. But I don’t know if I can take off work,” I continue.
He moves his plate to the side and locks his fingers together on the table in front of him. “I thought you might say that,” he says, “Which is why we leave in…” he pauses to look at an imaginary watch then back up at me, “…three hours.”
“Three hours?” I nearly spit out the sip of coffee I just took. “Callisto, I can’t be ready in three hours. I have to do laundry. And let Brynn know I’m leaving. And shower. And… three hours??”
An amused smile tugs at his mouth. I’m starting to feel like he enjoys watching me squirm. Sadist.
“You’re already off until Thursday. I’ll have you back in your bed by Wednesday night.”
Just the thought of him having me in any bed spreads a delicious warmth across my skin. That’s it. I’m in. Because he’s right. I took most of the week off thinking I would be looking for another job or applying for loans to start my own practice. But in reality, I would probably just end up spending those days with him anyway, and all that stuff will be here waiting for me when I get back.
Other than our senior trip to Greece, I’ve never been anywhere outside of the southern United States. It makes me a little nervous. I’m a planner, and this is so spur of the moment. Am I really doing this? Am I actually going to fly across the world with him?
He must be reading my mind because he stands and walks around the table to kneel next to me. “I need you to trust me,” he says, “Let go of the anchor of fear you’re holding on to. It’s three days, Makenna. Three days away from work. Three days away from stress. Three days away from interruptions. Three days away from all these fucking memories that suffocate you. Suffocate us. Can you just give me that?”
I’ve never realized how the mention of Reid’s name or any impression of our time together affected Callisto. I guess I’ve always thought of him as being made of steel, impenetrable. But him asking for reassurance last night, making me remind him I am his, combined with what he said just now, tells me it’s always been there. Like a dark cloud looming over us.
I’ve made my peace with Reid. I’ve said my goodbyes, and I meant them. I’m ready to move on, move forward. There was a time not so long ago when I wasn’t sure I could do it, wasn’t sure I even wanted to. But Callisto has changed all that.
Nerves turn into excitement, and I’m suddenly ready to do this.
