Romans & histoires Nonton One Fine Week

I wouldn’t see him for a whole week. I didn’t say anything. I just tried to reassure myself. It’s just one week. Time will pass quickly. He’ll be back. And we’ll finally talk about the things we need to talk about. It’s just one week.

And immediately smiled. He was setting plates on the table. Suit jacket removed. Sleeves rolled up. Looking far too attractive for someone arranging dinner. I crossed my arms. "What's all this?" He glanced up. "It's Thursday." I stared. Then remembered. Our night. One of our nights. My heart softened instantly. "You did all this?" A small shrug. "You've had a difficult week." The answer was simple. Matter-of-fact. As though that alone explained everything. Maybe it did.

He moves around the kitchen with the easy competence that used to make me unreasonably attracted to him. Still does, honestly. "How was your week," he says without turning from the stove. "Busy. Good. The branding project is finally moving." I pick up my phone then put it down. "You?" "Long. Good meeting on Thursday, difficult one Friday." He stirs something. "Nate called me actually. Apparently there's something happening next Saturday." "Derek mentioned it." He nods. "Should be good." "Yeah." We are very good at this. We have been doing this for months now, navigating the distance between what we say out loud and what we do not, and we have gotten so proficient at it that sometimes I forge