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I climb under the duvet, rolling onto my side as he disappears into the bathroom, and prop my head on a hand. The room is neat and tidy, as I’d expect. The duvet is plain light blue, and like the rest of the house, the furnishings look expensive but neutral—it wouldn’t surprise me if he hired a firm to decorate. But there are touches of him around. A photo on the wall of some far-off galaxy that looks like it’s from the Hubble telescope—that’s got to be him. Zelda’s bed says “I’m specced into Beast Mastery”—that’s a World of Warcraft joke.
On the nightstand are his Apple watch, his large, top-of-the-range iPhone, and half a dozen books in a stack: a biography of rugby player Jonah Lomu, another about Sir Peter Jackson, and one about Oppenheimer, a history book about James Cook, a book about gravity, and Stephen Hawking’sA Brief History of Time, which looks very well thumbed.
He comes out then, and I say, “You’re reading about gravity?”
He glances at the book. “Yeah.”
“Did you know that if you break the law of gravity, you get a suspended sentence?”
That makes him laugh. “Jesus.”
“Thank you very much, I’m here all week.”
“Just how drunk are you?”
“I’m pretty wasted. Hey, could you do something for me?”
“Of course.”
“Could you get my necklace?”
He smiles then, and leaves the room, reappearing a few seconds later with the jewelry box. I take it and open the lid, curling up as I study it, turning it in my fingers. It’s so beautiful, and it looks so expensive. I still can’t believe he bought it for me. Technically, this is our first date. But of course it isn’t, not really. Now I look back, I realize he’s been seducing me from the moment I met him.
He closes the bedroom door, then bends to give Zelda a last kiss on the head and a fuss before he gets into bed. “Want me to put it on for you?”
“No, I don’t want to damage it. I’ll wear it tomorrow, though.” I leave it open on the bedside table.
“Come here,” he says, and he pulls me into his arms. We nestle down beneath the duvet, and he pulls it up and tucks it around us.
“Did you really like me from the first time we met?” I whisper.
“I did.”
“Even though I walked into your door?”
“Because you walked into my door.”
“You like that I’m ditzy?”
He kisses my nose. “I like that you’re you.”
“Oh, I’m very me.”
“Don’t ever be anybody else, Missie. You’re perfect.” His lips curve up as I frown. “What?”
“It’s just… I feel baffled. I’m so far from perfect, it’s not funny. I accept that I’m a glass half full kind of person, but that doesn’t mean I’m an angel.”
“I should hope not.”
I push him. “I mean I’m not cheerful all the time. I have grumpy days too.”
He strokes my fringe away from my forehead. “I can’t imagine you grumpy.”
“Well, I am, sometimes. And I’m not a great cook.”
“Good job I’m okay, then. I’ll make sure we don’t starve.”
“Alex! I’m trying to explain that I don’t understand why you have this view of me. You’re going to be so disappointed when you find out I’m not who you think I am.”
