Page 116 of The Warmth of Our Closest Star

“Home isn’t home without you, Enzo,” he said. “Now that I’ve known what a home is like with you in it, nothing else will do.”

“I’m not ready to come home,” I said, shaking my head.

Peter slumped a little, but he smiled. “But you called it ‘home.’”

I nodded.

“Give me a little more time?” I asked.

“Okay,” Peter nodded. “I can do that. As long as I’m with you, I’m home anyway.”

I cleared my throat, trying to chase away the emotion he had brought up in me.

“But,” I said, “maybe…maybe you should stay here tonight?”

Peter looked up into my eyes, his face a blank slate.

“Yes,” I said. “That’s what I mean.”

Peter stared at me for the longest of moments.

“You still sleep on the right side?” he asked.

“I’ll sleep on whichever side you want me to,” I said.

Peter pulled my face down and his lips met mine. It was likely the most chaste kiss we’d ever shared, but it was the kiss we needed to share at that moment.

I whispered, “That means I get the right side.”

Peter pulled me in, wrapping his arms around me.

“After Christmas,” I said. “We’ll figure things out then. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll stay at home while your parents are here,” I added. “If that will make you happy.”

Peter sighed, smiled, and kissed me gently on the lips.

“Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I said.

Peter stared into my eyes for a moment, then opened his mouth to speak, shut it, opened it again, and then shut it once more.

“What?” I chuckled nervously.

Peter frowned. “When we had our fight? When you flipped the table? The night before you left the house?”

“Yes?”

I didn’t want to ever again think of what Peter had said that had made me flip the table, but if we were going to work on our communication and inviting each other in, I couldn’t ignore him. Hearing how he had fantasized about a coworker had drawn a rage from me I hadn’t known was possible at the time. Now, in my living room in my apartment, the rage was manageable, but it was still there.

Peter was my husband. I didn’t want to hear about anyone else making him feel the way that I was supposed to make him feel. Even if I hadn’t been doing my job well for a while.

“You didn’t let me finish my sentence before you flew off the handle.”

“Oh?”