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Her face gets softer, and she moves to me, stopping a foot in front of me. I want her to come closer. I want her to touch me. "Thank you," she whispers. She licks her lips, looking up at me through her eyelashes. "I'm sorry too. I didn't mean to ruin Christmas."
I shrug and give her a smile. This smile feels real and easy. I feel a little wary still, but the longer I look at her, the more certain I am we'll be okay. "No one went to the hospital. No one got punched hard enough to bleed. This is the best Christmas we've ever had."
She tips her head back and laughs. The sound is happy and carefree. "I guess that's good." She shakes her head and props her hands on her hips. "Where do we go from here?"
"I don't know about you, but I really need to unwind."
Her nose wrinkles. “More classical music?"
"You really hate it?" That’s a problem, but maybe it will be the first thing we can compromise on.
"I don't hate it. I just...don't like it. Why do you love it so much?"
"There aren't any words."
She stares at me, eyes scrunched up. "And?"
"And nothing. I get lost in most music. If there are words, I end up focusing and fixating, which is fine sometimes, but it doesn't let my brain relax the same way classical music does."
Her lips form a small 'o' as she ponders my words. "So you could listen to anything without words?"
"No, not really. Movie scores are awful. If I've seen the movie, then the whole thing plays like a projector in my mind while I'm listening."
"Huh," she says, staring at me. She holds her hand out. "Give me your phone."
I hand it over without hesitation, and watch as she opens the music app, scrolling. She's adorable, muttering as she searches. Finally, she makes a triumphant sound, and the tinkling notes of an acoustic guitar fill the space. I close my eyes, and let the music flow over me. I don't recognize the song, so my mind begins to settle. Janey's hand comes to my arm, and I open my eyes to look at her.
"Is this okay?" she asks, teeth worrying at her lip.
"It's perfect," I say quietly. She rewards me with a shy smile. "And look at that, we just compromised. We are excellent married people.”
Her laughter ringing in my ear, I allow myself to hope that the future I hoped for, the marriage I planned for, may still be mine for the taking.
30
JANEY
I groan and roll over in bed to release tension in my back and feel that familiar rush of wetness. "Crap."
Everything's been so crazy, and the last week with Jonas has been so amazing I completely forgot about it. I lost track of my cycle. But she's here, and with a vengeance, apparently. And the last of my supplies are in my purse in the living room, where it's been sitting all week.
I squeeze my legs together and slide out of bed, duck walk to the bathroom to clean up a bit, then quietly tiptoe toward the living room in the early morning dark.
"Morning," Jonas says from somewhere in the dark.
He startles a scream from me, and I feel another gush. Just great. And I'm wearing white pajamas. I'm frozen in place, halfway between the bathroom and my purse. I haven't been in this situation before. If I were home alone, I'd just go for my purse, and work on the blood stains in my clothing after. Now though? I can't think through my embarrassment.
My mind whirling, I miss Jonas's approach. When he gets close enough for me to see him, my mouth dries up. He's not wearing a shirt. Again. The smattering of hair on his chest is endlessly fascinating, and I fall into a bit of a sexual daze. The messy hair, the crazy eyebrows, and the golden muscles all combine to steal all rational thought from my mind.
This week has been amazing. We've both settled into a comfortable routine of naps, puzzles, reading, and generally lazing around. Jonas escapes to the gym every day, and we see some of his family here and there, but for the most part, it's just us. It's easy and low-pressure, and I was right, I'm definitely falling in love with him.
"You're up early. You couldn't sleep?" His voice is raspy, but his eyes are alert.
"How long have you been up?" I ask, stalling.
"I don't sleep a lot. I got up somewhere around four." He scrubs his hands through his hair. "Since you're up, did you want to head out for breakfast? I've been craving a big stack of pancakes. And I thought maybe you could use a break from cooking?"
I squeeze my legs together tighter. "That sounds great!" I say too loudly. I wince at the way my voice echoes between us. I try for a more normal, casual tone. "Hey, can you grab my purse for me? It's over there." I point to my bag on the coffee table, trying to smile. He gives me a funny look but heads for the coffee table. He stops there, continuing the conversation.
