Page 74 of Call You Mine
It’s just… Sadness.
And somehow, even with how heavy I feel it in my bones, I prefer it.
CHAPTER 23
AVA
This isthe first Saturday I haven’t worked since moving into Anderson’s place.
Luckily, Georgie’s extracurriculars usually line up with my shifts at Hey Honey’s, along with the hours she’s at school. And when they don’t, the free hot chocolates I offer her and her friends become a necessary bribe to convince her she’s perfectly happy hanging out there, so I can keep an eye on them.
The home visits and court dates have also kept us busy. Since my mom signed away her parental rights, things have been moving quickly. We just need the marriage certificate, and Patricia will recommend approval for the adoption.
Rinsing the conditioner out of my hair, I let myself relax into the warm water, reminding myself that Georgie’s at soccer practice now, and one of the moms is taking a group of them out for lunch after.
She’s where she needs to be.
She has her cell phone if she needs to contact me.
She’s safe.
This is also Anderson’s first Saturday off since we moved in here—he should be coming through the front door anyminute—but I’ve learned he tends to come home with the same higher thinking power as a zombie and spends the first twelve hours after a shift sleeping.
Anderson’s after-work habits are just a few of the many things I’ve learned since living with him.
Grabbing my loofah and pouring a generous amount of body wash on it, I lather the bubbles all over my skin. The lavender scent has me relaxing even more, my mind drifting to the man I’m going to be marrying in a week.
Being under the same roof as him but on different schedules means I learn about Anderson in pieces and from a distance. The mug he always leaves by the sink. The way his shoes land in the same spot by the door. The quiet hum of music I hear drifting from under his bedroom door at night when I can’t sleep.
I notice what he fixes without being asked and what he ignores, the small habits that aren’t meant for anyone’s eyes.
It’s intimate, in a way I wasn’t expecting when Georgie and I moved in here.
I think when you share a space with someone, even when you’re on opposite routines, you learn how they occupy spaces when they don’t expect to be witnessed.
I’ve also seen the way the qualities that I’ve come to know of his are shown through his actions—the way he’s careful not to slam a door, no matter what time he gets home. The way he texts me before he goes to the grocery store in case I need anything. The way he leaves things in the exact place I left them, even if I was the one to move them to begin with.
It’s like he’s used to weaving his life with others, putting them and their needs before his own—it’s familiar.
Maybe because I know what that feels like. Forming habits based on what we do for others, tricking ourselves into thinking they’re ours.
Letting the stream fall over my face, I hear the front doorof the house open and click closed, just audible over the rush of the water.
Soft footsteps make their way through the house I’ve come to know over these last three weeks, stopping as the bedroom door opens.
With both Anderson’s and the guestroom I’m staying in sharing this bathroom, I made sure to close the door on the side that leads to his bedroom, so when I hear the knob turn, my breath hitches.
“Anderson?” I call out, but he doesn’t answer.
Because he’s sliding open the glass shower door.
It takes him a moment to register me, but I can see it on his face the moment it does.
His eyes widen to a point that looks painful, especially with the dark circles underneath. His face turns beet red as he quickly turns around, quickly sliding the door shut and pressing his back against it.
“Fuck, Ava. I’m so sorry,” he apologizes. “I honestly think I’m half-asleep right now, and it took me until this moment to realize that the shower was on because you were in it, not because I turned it on.”
The pleading in his voice has me rolling my lips together to hide my smile, my heart feeling like it’s being squeezed.
