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He came out of his bedroom dressed in a tank top and shorts. His long almost blonde hair brushed back off his face. She still wasn’t used to his unkempt beard and hoped if they were together again he would at least trim it. He sat down next to her, and she inhaled deeply. She wanted to familiarize herself with his scent again. She reached up and stroked his beard.
“Do you like it?”
“Not really. It hides most of your face.”
“Rachel called it a rat’s nest and said I should trim it.”
“I couldn’t disagree with her. I would rather you barefaced. I liked the stubble but not this,” she said as she stroked his beard.
He rose from the couch and went down to the bathroom. She heard him opening cabinets, and after a few minutes, she went down the hall to see what he was doing. She pushed open the bathroom door, and he was in front of the mirror, shirtless, with a scissor in hand, cutting off his beard.
“Xander, what are you doing? You didn’t have to do that.”
“It’s not my identity. It’s time to get it gone. Rachel is right. It’s okay for the winter, but during the summer it’s not comfortable. If you don’t like it, then it’s gone.”
She leaned against the door while he cut the hair down close to his skin and then slathered his face with shaving cream. She watched as he used a razor to remove the last of the hair. Then he washed his face. When he came up from the sink, his face was clean shaven, and it was the old Xander that she knew. He still had his long hair, but his handsome face was now revealed.
He turned to her moving his face from side to side so she could see from all angles. That was when she noticed the thin scar from his lower left jawline up to just before the top of his ear. It was noticeable in the bright light of the bathroom. She ran her fingers over it.
“Where did you get this? Did you have an accident at the lumberyard?”
He rubbed the back of his neck.
“It’s from the accident.”
Ava placed her hand over her mouth and sharply inhaled. Xander didn’t wait for her to ask. He volunteered.
“I woke up still strapped into my seat. I felt wetness on my cheek, and when I reached up, this whole flap of skin was hanging off my face. I think it happened when the roof caved in. There was a jagged piece of metal sticking just above me.”
Ava started to cry. Xander took her in his arms.
“It’s over. It’s so long ago, and it’s far less than what happened to you. Please don’t cry.”
She clung to him. He pushed her away from him to wipe her tears with a tissue.
“Come on, let’s sit on the couch.” He took her by the hand and led her there. She sat down, and he hugged her against him. When she felt better, she reached up to touch his hairless face.
“I love you, Xander. I never stopped loving you.”
“I love you, too. I was so stupid to do what I did. I destroyed us.”
“It’s in the past, but we need to talk about it in order to leave it there.” Xander agreed, and they talked for two hours. He told her about what had happened during the accident. She told him she remembered some of it, but he needed to fill in the blanks. They talked about the dates that their loved ones tried to set them up on and they declined. Finally, Xander got to the notebooks and the sketch pad. He reached over the couch and brought the stack up to the coffee table.
“Every one of these has an entry for each day I was without you. Some of it is my own, and other entries are literary pieces I found. Poems, sonnets, and excerpts from love letters.” He handed the top notebook to her. He opened it to the page that the holder was in and pointed to today’s date. She read the entry already knowing what it said.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”
He took the notebook from her and replaced it on the pile. Then reached for the sketch pad on the coffee table. He flipped a few pages and handed the pad to her. It was open to the one of her at graduation. She ran her finger over the charcoal drawing.
“I didn’t know you could draw,” she admitted as she paged through the pad.
“I used to draw a lot until college and then got out of the habit. When I came up here, I needed something to keep me busy besides writing in those notebooks. I didn’t want a television so with my first paycheck I bought some charcoal and this sketch pad. All the drawings of you are from memory.”
She put the pad down, and they continued to discuss the things that went on during their separation, how they kept a connection with each other. She stroked his arm. He held her hand. He touched her face. She smoothed his hair.
The room was filled with sexual tension that needed to be released. She was the one that made the first move. She ran her thumb over his bottom lip. He took her thumb in his mouth and gently bit down on it, running his tongue over the soft pad. He released her thumb and kissed her lips, barely brushing against them. She wanted more, and she got up on her knees to press against his lips harder and more insistent. His tongue speared its way into her hot mouth. Immediately her core started to flood with warmth. He pulled her onto his lap, and she straddled him stroking his growing erection. He moved his mouth to her neck. Murmuring as he did.
