Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18
After Rania waved an all-clear from the electric slide front doors, we stood in the shopping aisle for a few minutes. I felt bemused more than anything else, waiting for Victor to decide what happened next because Paul was his play, not mine.
He seemed puzzled by the encounter and stuck deep in thought, so eventually, I prompted him.
“What should we do now, Victor?”
“Umm… oh, sorry, Amy… I need Arborio rice for a risotto I have planned. I thought we’d go home, store everything, then walk around Central Park.”
“How about a movie first?”
“That works.”
He moved on from the minor confrontation just like that, unpanicked and without further thought about what happened. I was impressed.
We finished shopping and lugged heavy bags back to my apartment. He looked instantly like a man who’d found a home, and I brimmed with contentment watching Victor meticulously store everything where he wanted it.
I brewed coffee and pulled two double espressos, handing one to my boyfriend, sipping the other, enjoying rejuvenating tendrils seeping into my veins, lifting me.
I leaned into him, enjoying his warmth and relaxed demeanor. At his house, Victor had never seemed comfortable.