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Forever.
But how long until he fully accepts that?
I want to shut down my qualms, remind them that this man, who not long ago only wanted to sleep with me, now wants to live with me.
He’s committed to us even if his fears keep us away from time to time.
When Damon wakes, confusion suffuses his stare as he takes notice of where we are. “I’m sorry,” he says, and caresses my cheek. “You don’t deserve my anger.”
“You’re grieving. It takes time. You should talk about it.” I don’t pressure him when he shuts his eyes, massaging his neck.
I silence every tiny seed of doubt that objects to me moving in with Damon and I jump headfirst.
“Okay.”
He opens his eyes and lifts his head. “Okay what?”
“I’ll move in with you, Damon. Don’t make me regret it.” The most wonderful thing happens when he gives me the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. I’m melting in his arms as he squeezes me tight before stealing a kiss, deepening it as the seconds tick by.
I tug on his hair, bringing him closer to me, dying to pour the love I feel for him through our joined lips.
“Fuck, I thought it was Saturday,” he says when we break apart. “You should stay home and pack.” His hand wanders down to my ass, and he gives it a light smack. “I want you moved in this weekend.”
“This weekend? What’s the rush?”
“I want you with me.” We’re both quiet before he speaks again. “You know it won’t always be easy.”
“Yeah, I know.”
I’ll always love him though. That won’t ever change. Which is why I’m moving in with him. It won’t matter if I wait a week, a month, a year, a decade.
I could see myself loving Damon—flaws included—for the rest of my life.
Loving Damon is the easiest thing I’ve ever done. It’s easy like a breeze rustling the tree leaves, like the ocean waves crashing against the shore. It’s natural chemistry that forms a tight bond I hope never severs.
I wish to always love him the way I do now.
I’m all moved in. Most of my stuff is unpacked, save for a few boxes.
We watch the sunset, and a wave of peace and contentment zings through me as we walk back down the trail near Damon’s house.
Damon refuses to accept my rent money. He says he doesn’t want it. So, I tell him I’ll buy groceries as a compromise. It’s not like he can stop me.
We’re both quiet, and the silence appeases me—it’s filled with understanding and comfort. A silence that vibrates through your soul.
Without words, we’re truly connected.
“We should buy a new house.”
I halt in my tracks. “What?”
He gently tugs on my hand to keep us going. “So it can be ours.”
I let his words fill the air. I like Damon’s place only because he once told me I was the only lover he brought there, but I’m not a fan of the modern style. I want my home cozy and comfortable and safe—not sterile.
Maybe one day we can get to that.
I say nothing to him in return. I squeeze his hand and let the fantasies play in my head, one by one, until all I can hope is that they come true.
