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“Are you sure you’re ready to be with someone else?”
It’s a valid question. But what concerns me is that she’s asking me now after we slept together twice, and I’ve told her I’m basically willing to risk my career to be with her. Doesn’t that make it obvious that I’m ready to be with someone else? I wouldn’t be sitting here with her if I wasn’t.
Leslie shouldn’t have to question this, and my job is to make her understand that I’m ready. Sure, my job is important, but the reality of the situation is I can’t expect her to wait around for five months and not date someone else. And then what happens if any guy comes and she falls in love with him? My chance with her is now, and walking away from my chance at happiness is just slapping myself in the face.
I take her hands in mine. “Of course, I am. Why would you ask me that? I’m here with you bearing my soul, and you’re asking if I’m ready to be with someone?”
She shrugs her shoulders and looks down at the bed sheets. “You are too beautiful to do that. Look at me.”
Her eyes come up and meet mine.
“I’m not like those fuck boys you might’ve been with before. And I don’t date just anybody, so let me be clear. Leslie Haddon, I’m ready to move on and be with someone as long as that person is you.”
My hand slapsthe pillow next to me, missing Leslie’s head by a quarter of an inch, and she didn’t even move. Wow, she must be a heavy sleeper. I roll onto my side and inch out of the bed, trying not to wake her up. I know she has a long day ahead of her, considering she has to work tonight and we were up until almost four in the morning. Good thing it’s Saturday and we don’t have classes today. My arms stretch above my head, and then I pick up my boxers and slide them on. Guess it’s time to figure out something for breakfast. I saunter through the hallway and living room into the kitchen. Waking up with someone in my bed is new, but it’s nice. This is one of those times where I have the option to cook an actual breakfast for more than just me. The refrigerator opens and I pull out the carton of eggs and some sausage. Something small. We used so much energy last night, and we need to replenish. I take out the coffee grounds and put two scoops into the maker before pressing start. I’m not sure how late she normally sleeps, but Leslie still needs to eat something.
I grab a skillet out of the cupboard and spray a couple pumps of PAM cooking spray so that they don’t stick and then crack four eggs open and scramble them in a glass measuring cup, before pouring them into the skillet. What if she doesn’t like eggs? Whatever, who doesn’t like them? I swat away the thought, and grab a smaller skillet to put the pre-cooked sausage links into the pan.
While waiting for the food to cook, I grab my mug out of the cupboard and pour it half full of coffee and then get the creamer out of the fridge. Some people like their coffee black. Those are people you should run away from, far far away.
The eggs start to cook, so I use my utensil to move around the bottom of the skillet to flip them over, and let them cook all the way through, and the sausage is getting good and brown now. Janet used to make fun of me because every weekend this is what I would make: eggs and sausage. Why is that weird? It's a good breakfast with lots of protein. Her thing was oatmeal and I can’t stand that stuff. To each their own, I guess.
Finding Leslie has been a godsend, and even though Janet wants to move on, I’ll never forget her. She was my first love and will always be in my heart. I think that’s another reason why I’m so drawn to Leslie, because she doesn’t have a problem with that. It’s not something I can just shut off, you know, she was my wife for a decade, and I loved her.
I turn the stove off, and scrap the eggs and sausage out of the skillets onto two plates before grabbing a mug for her and filling it with coffee in case she wants some. Probably not, considering she needs her sleep, but would like to keep her options open.
I grab the plate, a fork, and her mug and venture into the bedroom, putting them on the nightstand, and brushing her hair out of her face.
“I’ve made breakfast, if you’re hungry. You should at least eat something,” I say, sitting down on the edge of the bed while she stretches.
“You didn’t have to do that, Noah.”
“There’s coffee, too. Or you can eat and go back to bed.”
She leans in for a kiss, and then eyes the breakfast. “I’ll eat, but coffee will only make it impossible to fall back asleep. I can go home and go back to sleep after I eat.”
“Nonsense, you are fine right here. Eat up. What time do you need to be up?”
She grabs the fork and shovels some eggs into her mouth. “Five.”
I kiss her forehead, “I’ll wake you up then. See you in a bit.”
There are plenty of things for me to do today while she rests. I need to work on my novel and knock out the last chapter so I can finally start the dreadful editing phase. That’s my goal over the next few hours. I cruise into the den, and turn on my desktop, and wait for it to boot up. If I can just finish this chapter today, I’ll call it a win.
I open the word document, and take a deep breath and I read the last line I wrote, letting it open my mind to continue and the inspiration hits. My fingers clack on the keyboard for what seems like forever, and before I know it, I’m typing THE END.
“Yes!” I scream, and pump my first in the air.
It’s finished. Well, the first draft anyway, so now I have to go back through it and find the weakest parts and make them better.
I hear footsteps and Leslie is standing at the door. “What the hell is going on?”
My feet travel until I’m standing in front of her. “I finally finished it. My rough draft is complete.”
She smiles and pulls me in for a hug. “That’s amazing!”
I look at my watch and it’s already almost five o’clock. The time passed while I wrote. “Sorry, I didn’t even notice the time. Guess I woke you a little early, sorry.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “That’s okay. I’m gonna head home and get ready for work.”
