Dinner went beautifully, especially after our joint "appetiser". I think a permanent blush had been imprinted on the waitress' face after that episode, but it was worth it. A very welcome bonus was that, at the end of the evening I was finally able to discover Aden's apartment. Everything in the decoration looks like him - it's elegant, it's cosy, it gives the feeling of comfort and luxury without overdoing it. At least from what I saw of the decoration inside since I can't say that it was my first point of focus. My boyfriend is far too good with his hands, his tongue, his whole body not to arouse my interest in an inexhaustible way.
Now, it's two o'clock in the morning and I still can't sleep.
Aden is nestled peacefully next to me. He sleeps like a peaceful baby. His breath disturbs a lock of his hair. I don't dare move it for fear he'll wake up. I smile lightly, thinking that originally, he was the one who wanted to watch me asleep.
"Looks like your plans are in jeopardy, boyfriend..." I whisper into the bedroom's silence.
At this floor, you can't hear anything – not even rumours from the street or the neighbours. That's a change from my flat!
I close my eyes, trying in vain to relax.
My mind's still in turmoil – "double, double, toil and trouble" as Macbeth's witches would chant.
Deep down, I know what's wrong.
It's not even the feeling of being in a foreign bed.
No, what's been bothering me is the fact that I'm deliberately hiding Reggie's invitation to Aden.
I've had 20 opportunities to tell him tonight.
Each time, I kept silent.
Words remained stuck in the back of my throat.
Might be because every time I think about it, a wave of anxiety rises to the surface.
Why is that? What am I afraid of? That Aden will cancel our planned weekend in London and Brighton to go there with me?
I suddenly imagine him walking into the cramped house I grew up in. I imagine him in the 1970s-inspired kitchen or living room with all the mismatched decoration. Meeting my mother.
I open my eyes with a gasp.
My breathing turns quick and shallow.
I feel oppressed.
I can't stay here anymore, I have to get up.
I do it as quietly as possible, holding my breath. Aden grunts and nestles a little more against the pillow, but without waking up. I breathe a sigh of relief. I walk past the bed, closing the bedroom door behind me.
I walk barefoot to the living room, where a splendid bay window offers an unequalled view of my beautiful city. Usually, the sight of the flashing lights, whether on top of skyscrapers or cranes that are continually part of the landscape now, soothes me.
But not now. I sit down on the carpet, unaware of the cold that gives me goosebumps. I wrap my arms around my knees, like a lost little boy.
The temptation to call Sam or Ben is all but prickling my fingers. I could ask them to distract me, to take my thoughts away from my current dilemma... but that wouldn't really be fair to Aden.
The man I call my boyfriend.
The one I love, even without quite admitting it aloud.
If I want to have a lasting relationship with him, I can't keep hiding things from him.
I can't evade all the questions about my past, my family. What would I do afterwards, at Christmas? I'd say I'm an orphan like Harry Potter?
I can't even imagine lying to him, actually.
And at the same time, keeping quiet isn't any better.
I rest my forehead against my forearms, trying to untangle the bundle of knots inside my chest.
What really terrifies me is letting these two worlds collide.
The one from Aden's eyes, where I represent a sexy, devilishly interesting Ethan, the one he fell in love with if I believe him (and I do). And the other, much less glorious, of my brother, my mother and her friends...
What the hell was I thinking giving Reggie hope I'd visit? I should have hung up on him and...
The light behind me startles me.
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