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Leaving the apartment, even for the shortest errand, was becoming an irritating logistics feat involving contacting Rania, who deployed security before we ventured out.
After making love and enjoying cuddling in the afterglow under a warm duvet, Victor and I discussed the problems of privacy. We made some minor adjustments to the remodeling of our house.
When I woke, he reached out for me, swiping a flailing arm across the bed until connecting.
“Amy?”
“I’m here.”
“I worried you left.”
“Aww, that’s nice, but it’s early to call Rania and book my freedom.”
“I love you, sweetheart, and I’m very sorry about all of this.”
I stared at him, still half-awakened as he was. I wanted to make love or at least cuddle the morning away, but we were busy. As I examined my boyfriend, I remembered the slightly standoffish, businesslike man who met me in his office, contrasting to the gentle lover who lay next to me now.
Jesus, I’m in a relationship.
A real relationship.
What a journey.
I skipped into the shower ahead of Victor while he stretched a few kinks out of his muscles. After my massage, he felt better, but I figured we both needed the gym as a matter of urgency.
When he exited the shower, Victor passed me like a hare, overtaking the tortoise, grooming, and dressing in quick time while I still played with the hairdryer.
I felt somewhat guilty when arriving in the kitchen to a steaming Latte, enticing fruit and muesli bowl with a side of strawberry yogurt and a bottle of skimmed milk.
“I’ll do the dishes.”
“It’s not a competition, Amy. If I were busy, you’d carry the burden, right?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Then let me help you. I have very little going on today aside from untangling the questionable manner of my being trafficked as a child.”
“I hadn’t thought of it that way. There are a lot of legal issues to work through if this ever comes to light.”
“On the bright side, I may be entitled to a Russian passport.”