The drama unfolds on the television screen as I lean into David’s side and reach across him in a kind of half-hug. I feel his lips brush across my forehead and his hand gently squeezes my side and I sigh contentedly. The movie is good, but, honestly, we could have been sitting here doing nothing and I would still have been happy. Being with him is the best cure for a bad day and the best part of a great day. He is so good to me and for me.
I’ve never had that before. It isn’t all excitement and living life on the edge of our seats, although there is occasionally a bit of that. It’s the comfort in the quiet, holding hands, looking over at him and knowing he’s already looking at me, waking up nestled against his chest and him pulling me in tighter, the way he listens, the way he shares, his terms of endearment, the way he lets me drive even though he thinks I’m a terrible driver, his moans of appreciation as I scratch his back, the way he tells me he loves me and I never have to wonder if he means it...
I love this man.
That thought has been present in my mind constantly throughout the past two months. It drives me to distraction and that isn’t something that is easily achieved for someone who spends their days with a rambunctious attention-seeking child.
I feel his hand close firmly around the hand I’ve reached over him with and realize that I’ve zoned out and reached under his shirt to rub his belly. I glance up at him and find him looking down at me with an eyebrow cocked and a grin on his lips.
“You’re not paying attention to the movie.” Dammit. I’ve been caught red-handed.
“I am paying attention. I just needed something to do with my hands.” I say.
“Uh-huh. I know when you’re distracted. You did the same thing with La La Land.”
I start to mumble an excuse and then I just stop. He already knows the truth, so why bother?
“Okay, I had good reason to be distracted when we were watching that. It’s just really hard to keep my hands off of you.” I reply instead, leaning upward to give him a quick peck on the cheek.
His smile widens and he lets go of my hand and begins rubbing my back with his other hand. His feather-like touches tickle and I start to squirm and giggle.
“Shhh.” He says, still smiling. “You’re going to miss it.”
I twist to hide my exposed back and pull his arm over me. I’m leaning back against his side with my head on his chest now and we settle down as the movies main character completes a timed run and discovers he will be leaving for a mission.
David is forever trying to educate me about the place I spent the better part of my youth. I think it’s cute. This is where he grew up too and his family has history here. He is so proud of his hometown and is a fountain of knowledge. This movie is his latest attempt to educate me about our town and I have to admit it’s actually pretty good. The actors are all but unknown and the storyline isn’t bad. Plus, it’s based on a book, which he admits is better than the movie.
“The book is almost always better than the movie,” I respond.
A plane crash, near olympic victory, shark infested waters, and capture by the enemy later, I hear a light snore and can’t help but chuckle. I sit up slowly and he wakes.
“What’s wrong?” He says instantly wide awake.
“You were asleep,” I accuse.
“No, I wasn’t.” He denies.
“Ha! I caught you snoring this time. You were asleep!” I laugh. “It’s okay, babe. We can watch the rest of the movie another time. Let’s just go to bed.”
“We don’t have to.”
“You were asleep.”
“Well, that doesn’t mean we have to go to bed now. We can keep watching the movie,” he argues.
My response is to arch my eyebrow at him as I begin to gather my things.
He gets up and stops the movie and then helps me up.
“You were distracted anyway,” he teases kissing me briefly on the lips.
“I was actually enjoying that one,” I fire back with a laugh.
We climb the stairs and enter his room.
“Yeah, well it’s a good movie.” He says turning on the fan.
“Mmhmm.” I agree, as we go through our routine of undress and get into bed - me pulling up a blanket and him pushing it off of him.
“It’s too hot.”
“The fan makes me cold.”
I scratch his back for a while and smile when he moans blissfully.
“I think three days is my max,” I say, “for how long I’m okay with being without you.”
“Three days is way too long,” he says turning toward me and pulling me to him as he wraps his arms around me. “I love you.”
A fire warms my belly and I can feel the smile stretching across my face. I hold him tighter.
“I love you, too.”