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“Because loosening the reigns is how companies get in trouble. The head doesn’t pay attention, and by the time he does, it’s too late. I worked long and hard to get where I am.”
“And it’s working but at the expense of our relationship. I’m not sure if we’re right for each other.”
“Please don’t say that. I need you. I love you.”
“You do?”
“How could you think I don’t? I adore you.”
She sits up, and the threatened tears start to come, dripping down her cheeks. I take her into my arms, and she clings to my body.
“I thought this was over,” she mumbles.
“It can’t be. I don’t want it to be. Do you?”
“No. I love you too. I love you so much.”
I hug her harder as she buries her head into my chest. I love her with all my being, and it took me until now to realize what losing her would be like.
That night, I slept curled around Lana’s body with my arms securely around her waist. I didn’t want to let her go. In the morning, though I had an early breakfast meeting, I spent extra time with her and arrived late. I was apologetic to my colleagues and justified it to myself because Lana was important.
I left work shortly before five that night, wanting to eat dinner at a reasonable hour. When I got home, the apartment smelled delicious. Lana was standing at the stove, putting together a salad. She looked up as I walked through the door and gave me the widest grin.
“You’re home on time.”
“I told you I would try. I might have to work on a few things after dinner. Please don’t be angry.”
“I just want you here. I don’t like staying in this place by myself.”
“What’s for dinner?”
“Meatloaf and scalloped potatoes.”
“How long?”
“Probably another fifteen minutes. You should get washed up.”
“I’d rather spend it doing something else.”
“That’s dessert,” she said with a wicked smile.
“Are you sure we can’t have it for an appetizer?”
“Get washed up, and you should change out of your suit.”
“You’re no fun.”
“Yes, I am.”
I headed to the bedroom to change, leaving my blue striped oxford shirt on the padded bench at the end of the bed. I knew after we made love that Lana would want to wear it while we sat around eating spoonfuls of chocolate chip ice cream. It had become one of our post-coital rituals.
I put on a pair of shorts and a tank top. The weather was cooler but still warm during the day. Another couple of weeks and it would be time to put on a coat or at least a light jacket. I walked out to the kitchen, and Lana had the table set for us and was taking the meatloaf out of the oven.
My cell rang, and her head shot up to stare at me. I glanced at the screen, it was my attorney, Emily Fong, but I let it go to voicemail. This was a renewal of our relationship, and business would have to wait. I didn’t have anything on my plate that needed my immediate attention at the moment.
“Sit. I’ll serve you.”
I took my seat, and she put a nice thick slab of meatloaf and two large scoops of potatoes on my dish. She had never made me this meal before, and I would tell her it was good even if it wasn’t. But it turned out I didn’t have to lie.
