There was a certain kind of silence wrapped around the apartment while the two of us got dressed in the bedroom. I threw glances over my shoulder once in a while and felt stupidly shy about it. I didn't do shy which was a red alert in itself. Although, there were so many screeching signals going off in my brain that I couldn't really listen to any of them.
Tom searched the closet, pushing suit after suit out of the way while I watched. "Want to go out for breakfast?" he asked.
Since he wasn't looking directly at me, I had this strange idea that he wasn't addressing me. Of course he was, even if the question took me completely off guard.
"That'd be cool." My voice was steady at least. I wondered why the insecurities were back when they had the least reason to return. It seemed thoroughly unfair.
"There's a place down the street. Might have to call first because they're usually out of tables by this time." He finally found what he was looking for and retrieved a leather jacket from the back.
My eyes widened. I couldn't begin to imagine how hot he would be in leather. Fuck.
He adjusted it over his shoulders but let it remain open to show the black T-shirt beneath. I had been doing something with my hands, but they fell limp to my sides.
The half-grin on his face said that he knew exactly what was happening.
"You look insanely hot in that one." The words blurted out before I could stop them, but I wouldn't be embarrassed. He'd made me switch into flirt mode again, and I wasn't changing back into a shy bride. After the amazing night and the steaming shower sex, I had no reason to think he didn't want me. Sure, he might not like me yet, but if he enjoyed having me naked, we had a better chance than I thought initially.
I could see the laughter in his eyes but the full smile never appeared. The day he laughed for real I would probably faint. Now, that would be embarrassing.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
"Shit, yeah." I realized I'd been standing absolutely still, staring like a school girl. I rifled through my part of the closet and found the T-shirt I'd been looking for. It had a huge print of a stenciled unicorn. It looked a bit silly, but the shirt always made me happy for some reason.
The summer sun blasted down on us the moment we stepped outside. Crowds moved along the street, but the tempo was a bit slower than on an average day. Cars swerved by, people talked loudly to reach above the noise, and a distant sound of a siren penetrated the air.
"You coming?"
That question again. "Yeah."
The short walk took us to a cozy restaurant that had a bit of a feel reminding me of Söder. I'd spent most of my last three years in that part of Stockholm. It was a bit more chill than other central parts, full of young people who more or less lived the life of a hipster. I'd liked it at first, but after a while, any environment became stifling.
Tom had been right to order us a table because I couldn't spot a single free table.
"Hi handsome, your table is ready." The waitress smiled with her entire face, but I could tell the endearment was nothing more than what she gave everyone else. It was obvious Tom had been there before, though.
"I'll have the standard," Tom said before stealing a menu from the counter to place it in my hands.
"What's the standard?"
He looked over his shoulder while he walked toward our tiny table beside one of the huge windows. "It's the standard."
I shook my head. "Thanks man."
The chuckle I received in response was totally worth the flicker of annoyance. I had to remember that he was the sarcastic type and play along. A bit of humor went a long way in any relationship, and I would make sure we had a blast together.
Seated, I scanned through the menu, tapping my fingers against the worn wooden table. I wasn't overly fond of bacon or sausages, and pancakes would be too fluffy for my stomach. "Think I'll have the omelet."
"They make a mean omelet." He waved for the waitress. "Want some coffee as well?"
"Only if they make actual cappuccino, can't stand regular."
Tom eyed me, leaning back in the chair that looked far too small for him. "Don't let them hear you complain here. They're particular about their coffee. The barista likes to lash out."
"You think they'd spit in my cup?"
"Absolutely."
I shook my head at the thought. "Do they have a real espresso machine?"
"Of course they do."
"Cool."
I guess my complaints about the American coffee were getting a bit old, but I honestly couldn't drink it without wanting to pour it down the sink.
The waitress came over and took my order, showing us that wide smile. When she left, we reached that strange kind of silence again. It appeared we had a lot to discuss but no intention of actually doing it. Perhaps it would be stupid to ruin the fun when we finally had a moment of normalcy.
Tom leaned on his elbows, inching in to be heard above the ruckus. "Do you have plans today?"
"No, not really."
"Thought we could do something."
I waited for him to continue, almost restless on my seat. This was definite progress on so many levels. I waited a few more seconds before I decided he needed encouragement. "Sure. What do you want to do?"
"I've never been..." It was quite clear he had troubles expressing what he wanted to say.
"On a date?" It was a gamble, but the uncertainty in his eyes was freaking adorable. It was so out of character that I wanted to rejoice and clink our coffees together.
"Yes. I've never been on a date." That took effort. His face was blank, devoid of expression, but his shoulders strained with tension.
"Just casual hook-ups then?"
"Something like that."
The waitress came along with our drinks, momentarily offering a brief reprieve.
I sipped the cappuccino, wondering if I could wait him out instead of prying deeper. He was slowly opening up, although reluctantly, and it wouldn't serve any of us well if I scared him away.
"You know, I've never been on a date in the US either, so I wouldn't know what you guys do."
Tom frowned. "Wouldn't it be the same in Sweden?"
"How would I know?" I tried to lighten the tone. There was no need to get super serious over breakfast.
The waitress came by with our food a few minutes later, placing a huge omelet in front of me and gave Tom a ginormous plate filled with what looked like everything classically American.
"You gonna eat all that?" I asked.
"Well, you're keeping me exercised."
I would have dropped my fork if I'd held one. The shock wore off in a second, replaced by a familiar comfort zone. "Of course. Nothing better than meat in the morning."
"And for dinner."
My jaw literally dropped. It took me a bit longer than normal to respond. "Lunch too?"
"Let's not ruin our appetite."
This new side of Tom opened up to a whole new range of possibilities. "Well, I guess I better eat as well then." I couldn't believe I'd let him have the last word in our fine discussion of sexual innuendos. This was my forte, not his. Right?
The tension between us was delicious. I could almost taste it as it swirled around us in increasingly smaller circles. Both of us seemed to lean in closer, and when he brushed his leg against mine beneath the table, I wondered how long we would actually be out on a date rather than back in our bed.
Tom wiped his hands on a napkin and cleared his throat. "So, why did you leave Stockholm?"
The seriousness returned in full force. Was this about both of us opening up? Probably. I wondered if he would reciprocate if I began. It would be unfair otherwise, but nothing was certain in this world. It wasn't like Tom was forthcoming with personal details.
"I was done with the city." It was the simple explanation, and it wasn't untrue by any means.
"What happened?"
Now that was a lot harder to answer. "I guess I wanted to spread my wings and see where they could take me."
"You're evasive."
I cocked an eyebrow. It took one to know one which meant that Tom had some skills up his sleeve that might prove difficult to fool. I had no real reason to fool him, however. If we wanted something that was more than a relationship stated on paper, we would have to open up about stuff—even the bad memories.
"Yes. It's hard to unlearn once you've started."
"Evasiveness?"
"Yes." I sighed and slumped in my seat. "I didn't have anything left there. America seemed like a good place to start again."
"Why didn't you have anything left?"
He was definitely digging deep.
"If I open up, will you?"
Placing the cup back on the table, he leaned back with an ease that didn't seem entirely genuine.
"Yes." The answer took me by surprise. That exoskeleton was chipping away faster than I had thought possible.
I looked around me. No one was likely to listen in, but I felt uncomfortable talking about my life in a public setting where people were too close. "Is there a park or something close by?"
"Yes. A couple of blocks away."
"We can take a walk." I hoped he understood.
The brief nod was all the confirmation I needed. We stayed silent after that as if both of us wanted to continue where we left off without any pointless distractions in between. It gave me time to think. Tom deserved to know who he'd allowed into his life, and I wanted to know more about him. I wondered what he was hiding. It was hard to tell since I still knew virtually nothing about him.
We only broke the silence when I insisted paying my part of the bill, which seemed to vex him. Maybe it was an American date thing.
The park was smaller than I'd thought, but the size didn't matter. We could walk around several times if needed. Green lawns, tall trees and flowers along the pathways made for a calm setting despite the city sounds in the background. The weather was nice, so I was surprised there weren't more people around.
Tom shrugged out of his jacket, showing off his ridiculously toned arms. How he kept that physique going was beyond me, but I sure as hell wasn't complaining. It had been hot when he pushed me up against the wall and held me without effort.
It was easy to think about sex, but we'd left the restaurant to actually talk for once. I knew it was my time to open up, but it was strangely difficult when he'd not asked a question outright.
I decided to begin where we'd left off. "I left Stockholm because I literally don't have anything left there and I wanted to start over."
His response was immediate. "No family?"
I took a deep breath. "Sort of, but not really. I moved in with my aunt and cousins after my parents and sister died. But they never liked me much." I could feel his gaze on me, but I couldn't look his way. "They died in 2004. We were in Thailand when the tsunami hit."
"That's...I don't know what to say."
"I was twelve, so I remember it vividly. I saw them being swept away." It was strange how memories worked. I could lock them away, but when they surfaced, they were hard to stop. Watching the scene from within, I fought the tears threatening to fall. "My sister was only nine. Dad tried to hold her but the current was too strong. She was swept away and he let go of the tree to swim after her. I never saw them again."
"How..."
"How I survived? I wonder that too. I think someone grabbed me and pulled me up on that building, or maybe I climbed onto it by myself. I never saw what happened to Mom."
"That's rough."
"Yeah. That's when I got this scar." I showed him the reddish pink line on my forehead.
He stopped me from taking another step, drawing his thumb over the scar while reaching around my back to hold me close. I hadn't even known how much I needed the contact. It was as if his steady hold grounded me and pulled me back to the present.
Slipping my arms around him, I relaxed into his arms.
"My story isn't quite like yours. I left my family rather than the other way around."
Inching back, I met his gaze. There was pain there, raw and unguarded.
"Why?"
"I grew up in Virginia in a very religious family. Sunday mass, Sunday school. Everything. When they caught me kissing a guy, they didn't take it well."
"Did they throw you out?"
"Not in so many words. They made my life a living hell, and when I got the chance, I decided to leave. I spent the money I had on a bus ticket and was lucky enough to meet Lara."
He brushed my hair from the scar again. "I met her at a shelter. She was planning a charity and wanted to have a look around. I don't know how, but I ended up helping her, and from that day she hasn't let me go."
"How old were you?"
"Eighteen."
"We're both fucked up then."
"Maybe."
I hadn't thought it was possible, but seeing him vulnerable made him ten times more attractive. There was depth in those eyes, and I chided myself for not seeing it before.
"And you haven't had a relationship since that guy?"
"No."
"And now you're stuck with me."
He smiled. It wasn't sarcastic, it wasn't strained. It was a soft smile that made my insides all mushy. "It would seem so."
A few moments of silence passed between us, but for once, it wasn't uncomfortable. Simply standing there with his arms around me made all the difference.
"Don't you miss anything from Sweden?" he asked.
I smiled, thinking of the good moments I'd had in the city I'd left behind. "I miss acting. Being a DJ was just a way for me to get some money in my pocket, and right now I'm not even doing that."
"Lara has sent in your Adjustment of Status papers. Hopefully you'll get a real visa soon so you can work."
"I'd like that. I hope the club where I worked didn't get in trouble for handing me money beneath the table. Although, they were the ones who started it. They never asked any questions." I let out a soft laugh. I had known it was illegal, but hadn't cared one way or the other as long as I'd had something to eat and money to spend on my hoarding.
"We'll get interviewed soon as well," he said. There was no accusation this time.
"Then I guess we better get to know each other." I leaned closer to give him another kiss. It was brief time but no less sweet.
"I think we're working on it." The sentence on its own wasn't beautiful, but the context and his voice transformed it into something that wrapped me up in thick layers of warmth.
I grabbed his left hand, bringing it up between us to stare at the ring. "Can you believe we're actually married?"
"Not really."
"Well, I guess we have time to let that sink in."
He didn't respond, but he was still smiling, inviting me to catch his lips with mine. The kiss was soft. Perfect. I wondered how many times it would feel like it was the first time we really kissed each other, but I decided that I didn't mind. We'd both opened up for real, and it was strangely liberating.
Maybe vulnerability wasn't all that bad if it wasn't exploited.
A/N Up until this point, I'm moderately happy with how this novel turned out. Maybe the two of them 'make up' a bit too fast, though. Any thoughts about that?
After this, I'm not 100% sure what to do. I have words written with massive drama etc, but I'm considering actually changing that to make more room for the two of them rather than external shit. I will upload these chapters as I edit.
Please let me know your thoughts so far. xox