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The men pile off, dropping most of the bags in Jonas's apartment. Jonas gives me a smile, then heads back to the elevator. The entire back of the minivan is still loaded with grocery bags. I nearly passed out when I saw the total. It would take me six months to spend that much on groceries. Everything in my new life is exponentially bigger.
"I'm heading down," Bree says, heading for the stairwell with a wave. "I'll see you when I see you!"
"Bye," I call after her. I really like her. She's the kind of woman I wished I could be when I was younger. Strong, confident, smart. But that ship has sailed. I'm not confident, I'm not smart, and I'm not strong. That's been proven over the last month.
How can she be so resilient after everything that's happened to her? Maybe some people are just built tougher, and I'm not one of those people. Or maybe, I haven’t been. But people can change, right? I could change, couldn’t I?
Exhaustion weighing me down, I rifle through the mounds of bags, too tired to even think about putting them away. Shopping with no budget wasn't as fun as I always imagined it would be, but in all my imagining, it was lottery money, or an inheritance from an eccentric aunt that I was spending.
Spending Jonas's money feels wrong. I didn't earn it. But Jonas was so fiercely insistent that I gave in. I'm a bundle of confusion, grateful that I have someplace safe to sleep, and clothes that are mine, but upset that Jonas is the one that provided them.
He has the money. That's not the problem. But every dollar he spends on me feels more and more like I'm taking advantage of him. I don't know how to live with that. How do I ever repay him?
My fingers touch the soft fabric of the sweatpants I chose, and with a grateful sigh, I head to Jonas's guest room to put them on. I've never owned anything this soft. I spent way too much time in the store touching them. The buttery soft fabric in a powder blue feels like what laying in a cloud must feel like. I had to have them. A glimpse at the tag makes my stomach roll again. I've never spent that much on a single piece of clothing. I almost put them back, but Jonas growled at me. The pleasure he seemed to take in buying me things made me feel warm all over.
And I really liked that growl of his.
I was so busy cataloging my body's reaction to it that I didn't 'wake up' until we were out of the store with four more pairs in other colors.
Hearing the door, I quickly tug off the tag and pull on the sweats, then hurry out to find Jonas piling groceries on the island. He steps back and shakes out his hands, staring at what must be five hundred dollars in groceries. The rest of the bags have made their way into the other men's apartments. I hope that all the cookie stuff ends up here, but knowing Jonas, I'm sure everything was sorted neatly.
"That's a lot of stuff," I murmur, rounding the island to join him. I am so aware of the heat radiating off his body. Flustered, I brush my hair off my face and as I lower my hand, the light hits my rings, sending shimmers dancing along the cupboards. Jonas's eyes track it.
"Is the ring ok? You seemed...unhappy at the store."
I press my hand on the counter, staring down at the pear-shaped diamond ring, and the wedding band snugged up against it. "The ring is beautiful. It just feels a little strange wearing it. You didn't let me see the price, but I'm guessing it's worth more than your van. I'm a little terrified I'll lose it.” I’m babbling, I know it. But I can’t stop. “I lose things, a lot. But usually, not the big things. I've lost every pen I've ever put in my purse within hours. I don't know how it happens, they're just gone. And I really don't want to lose this."
His finger traces the vein on the back of my hand and circles around the ring, tapping the stone.
"It doesn't matter, Janey. If you lose it, I'll replace it. I can buy ten more, and keep them as back ups, so when you lose one, we get out another."
The idea startles a giggle out of me. "Like a diamond ring dispenser?"
He grins back. "That actually sounds pretty cool. If that's not a thing, we should invent one."
"How do you do that?" I ask, my smile fading. "Just make everything ok? You should lecture me about taking care of my things, not tell me you'll just buy me more."
He turns, propping his hip on the counter, his front nearly touching my left side. "Has that ever worked? Someone telling you to be more careful? Or take better care?"
I drop my head forward, echoes of my father’s, teacher's, and brother's voice ringing in my ears. Even my friends would get frustrated with me. "No, it doesn't. I try," I tell him, lifting my head to stare at him, silently begging him to believe me. "I really do. I just...I don't know what happens."
He nods seriously and cups the back of my head. That could feel dominating...truthfully I would like that feeling in the bedroom, but the way he's doing it now feels safe and comforting. "Then my answer stands. If you lose it, I'll replace it. No questions asked."
Tears prick my eyes. Going with my gut, I press up onto my toes, and place a soft kiss on his cheek. "You're too good." I sniff, drop back on my heels and clap my hands together. "Let's get this all put away."
He groans but follows my directions without complaint, stocking his formerly bare cupboards with all the baking staples, as well as a large selection of snacks. Then I load the produce and meat drawers in his fridge and put the rest of the perishables away. The previously lonely jug of milk now has plenty more company.
I give myself a minute to stare at the full fridge and sigh happily.
"What's that sound mean?" Jonas asks from right behind me. His chin nearly touching my shoulder, he peers into the fridge too.
What did he ask me? "Oh...I just really love having a full fridge. I'm sure it has something to do with not always having enough when I was a kid. But after the last month, living on snacks from the office, this feels so good."
Jonas is quiet, then drops his chin onto my shoulder. "When I look in that full fridge, I see a lot of things that are going to go bad because I have no idea what to do with them." His casual familiarity has my heart racing in my chest.
I put my hand on the side of his face and rub gently. "That part, I can help you with. I'm not a gourmet cook, but I'm excellent at making sure nothing goes to waste." His ear-popping yawn stops me from saying anything else. Jonas steps away and moves toward his bedroom.
"Janey," he says softly, tucking his hands in his pockets. "I'm overloaded from today. I need some quiet."
