After returning home I hopped in the shower to quickly rinse off the sand that still clung to my body from our time at the beach. I stood there and let the warm water run over me, contemplating the events of my day. He seemed so different to me, yet he was so much My Lindsey at the same time. I couldn't deny the connection that we share and how truly wonderful his presence was. I knew our time was limited as he had to return to the studio shortly and that our outside worlds would eventually intervene. I had spent so much time over the last two years building a case against him- trying my damnedest to hate him- and I had done a pretty good job. I forced myself to dwell on all of the terrible things that he had done to me over the course of my life as I washed my long hair. He screamed at me, I said out loud to no one, growing increasingly aggressive as I massaged the lavender mint shampoo into my scalp. He accused me of cheating, he's publicly humiliated me, he's ridiculed my work and he's broken my heart. Why isn't that enough? What am I saying? That is enough. That's enough for three lifetimes.
Rinsing my hair, I stepped out and wrapped myself in a fluffy towel, gently patting my face dry. I was a little pink from spending all day outdoors and I scolded myself for letting that happen. Grabbing my lotion from the cabinet I perched on the edge of the tub while I softly moisturized my slightly sunburnt body. My mind picked up where it left off. But I did all of those things to him too, I told myself. And he did plenty of good over the years. He soothed me when I was distraught, he encouraged me when I thought we'd never get our big break, he held me as I cried so many nights and he saved me from some terrible situations that I let myself get into. And more than that, I thought, he loved me like nobody else could ever comprehend.
I placed the bottle back into the cabinet, my mind swimming, and realizing I could definitely go for a glass of wine.
My damp hair fell in gentle waves down my shoulders and I slipped into a simple lace back tunic and slipped into the kitchen to begin dinner. I could hear the shower running in the other bathroom and I told myself to focus one task at a time. I knew that if I could just make it through one more night with him and remain cordial, I would be home free. He would pack up and leave at my request tomorrow and we would finally get some closure. He would be out of my life.
I wasn't paying much attention while I was chopping vegetables, lost again in my own mind, and listening to only the water boil in the oversized pot on the stove when I heard my turntable switch on and the harmony of The Mamas and The Papas fill my home. I stiffened internally, trying to quickly build a wall, feeling his arms wrap around me from behind, planting a gentle kiss into my hair.
"Just like old times," he said, immediately picking up the harmony.
I couldn't help myself. I sang along with all my might. Song after song I belted out the words and listened to his voice meld together with mine. I watched in what was almost shock as he helped with the cooking and poured himself a drink. He sang to me, overly animated, and eventually removed the large wooden spoon from my hands and danced with me in my kitchen. It was hard to process, whatever was happening to me, but I can't help but to think this is how it should be- how it's supposed to be for us. What I felt in this moment is what every little girl dreams of- undying love and sheer, unbridled happiness.
We stopped moving at some point, his feet glued to one spot, and his eyes locked with mine. We were so close to each other; I could breathe in his familiar scent and I was just sure that he could hear my heart beating wildly. The needle clicked off, indicating the song was over and bringing a stillness to the previously playful atmosphere. His shoulders seemed to slouch a bit, and I couldn't help but to think that he was as disappointed with the end of that moment in time as I was.
I went for it.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and I kissed him passionately. I kissed him like I've never kissed a man in my life. My hands were quickly lost in his curls and I felt us both struggle to be in control. He lifted me off of the ground and my legs wrapped immediately around his waist. Eventually he pulled away in just the slightest way, both of us almost gasping for air. His forehead leaned on mine and our noses barely touched.
"Baby," he asked me, "are you drunk? Because I can't just- I'm not trying to- I want this to be..." He trailed of.
"No. No, not at all, I interjected, wishing for the conversation to be over as quickly as possible so that I could pick up where we left off. "Are you?"
He shook his head and smiled. "Not even a little bit."
The words were barely out of his mouth before my lips were once again pressed firmly against his while I made quick work of unbuttoning his shirt as he carried me to my bedroom.
