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Hugo had long gone home. I didn’t like it when he wasn’t here. There was nobody to cheer me up. I’d barely seen Mark this week, and my Markitis was raging. I needed a bloody hug more than anything. Well, I needed a smoke more, but I didn’t go out for one. Instead, I hung around in the lobby for a while before I scurried back to the kitchen and grabbed a fresh apron.
I actually liked cleaning. It was surprisingly satisfying and calmed my thoughts. I didn’t need to be so uptight and keep tabs on everything, instead I could just relax and get my gloves on. Hugo had been right. I needed something to do with my hands. The stress ball in my pocket made me giggle every time I felt the soft bulge of it through my apron.
I wasn’t in love with Hugo. That was just Mark’s bullshit.
I wasn’t confused. I wasn’t being stupid. I just…fell for people, hard and fast. Sometimes it went better than other times. Sometimes I lied about it.
Even to myself.
I thought about that on the way home, walking at a brisk pace from the Tube, the stress ball clasped in my hand. I really wanted Hugo to be awake. I really, really needed to sit down on the sofa with him curled up at the other end. Sometimes we talked. Sometimes we picked at whatever food was on the table. Sometimes I had a glass of wine.
Last week, he’d bought a small pot of hummus, cut up some carrot sticks and left it on the kitchen table for me. He’d still been awake and we’d ended up at the kitchen table, looking at cookery books and talking about food.
I’d made homemade hummus for him to try the next day.
He’d laughed at me and mocked the pointlessness of it. Why make it from scratch when Tesco down the road had handy little pots? I’d shut him up with a teaspoon of goodness in his mouth, and he’d stopped complaining after that. Just dipped his finger straight into the bowl and licked it clean.
He drove me crazy. And it made me smile. It made him smile.
I wanted that. I needed to figure this out before I went completely mad because as soon as I opened the door and saw the light from the living room, a plate of something on the table covered in a tea towel, everything finally felt right with the world.
“Hey!” he called, sitting himself up. He was reading another of my cookery books and put a piece of paper in to mark where he was at. “I should stop reading these books. I’m full up just looking at the pictures. You need to make me something called…Lamb Giouvetsi.” He smiled. Calm. Right there.
“Giouvetsi is gorgeous,” I said. “I sometimes make it with beef, just as good. With some homemade aioli and crusty bread.”
He laughed and put the book down on the side. “Come sit down. I made…like…mini cheese on toast. They’ve gone cold now but I tried.”
I loved that he had, and his little cheese-covered triangles looked nice. Like, homey nice. They tasted good too. I shoved one in my mouth, threw my jacket on the floor and made myself a little home on the sofa with hisblanket over my legs. He pushed his feet against my thigh and made a disapproving noise at me stealing his space.
“That stress ball saved my arse all evening,” I admitted, staring at the curtains. I wasn’t settled enough to look at him. Not yet. “I’m not giving it back.”
“And I’m not giving this heavy blanket back. It’s really good. They had one at the clinic, but I never tried it. I didn’t think it would make a difference, but it does. I’ve slept. Still had nightmares, but I suppose I will have those for a while.”
“Yeah. I know what you mean.”
“Want to talk aboutyournightmares?” he asked softly.
Here we went again. Straight into the deep end.
“Not really.” I wasn’t ready for that.
“Then can I ask you something else?” Shuffling around, he crossed his legs under his side of the blanket and leaned closer, playing with the sleeves of his hoodie.
Wait.
“Is that my hoodie?” I asked with a grin. God.
“Yeah. Sorry. I need to do laundry. Got stuck reading and then, you know…”
“It looks good on you.”
“It’s like fifteen sizes too big for me, but it’s so soft and comfy. I promise I will wash it and put it back. You’d left it on the floor outside the bathroom anyway.”
“That’s okay.” I had no idea what I was saying.
“I’ll keep it then. Just like I’ll keep this blanket.”
“So I have to go order a new weighted blanketanda hoodie now?”
