You had been at work for hours, catching up on some paperwork you had been meaning to do for a few days. You phoned mid-evening to say not to worry about dinner, you had popped out to get some milk for your coffee and picked up a sandwich to eat while you were there. You thought you’d just stay and finish up, then we would have an evening together tomorrow. I was really disappointed. You’ve been working late too often recently, and I have missed snuggling up on the sofa with you. Missed our chats.
I thought I’d take advantage of the fact that I had some quiet time to myself, took the phone off the hook, and ran a bath. I poured in some wonderful bath essence (evening primrose oil, ylang ylang and sweet almond oil), and spent a few moments putting on some music, pinning up my hair and removing some nail polish before slipping into the water, enjoying the warmth as I sunk in up to my neck. I closed my eyes and lay there for a while just gathering my thoughts and allowing myself the luxury of daydreaming, knowing I wouldn’t be interrupted for once. I topped up the water now and again by turning the tap on with my toes. I thought about you, working hard, and about how quiet the place seemed without you. I missed the little noises that told me you were in the kitchen, pottering about, or hearing your music playing. It seemed especially quiet tonight.
My thoughts began a trip down memory lane, remembering how you and I met.. all the times we had shared online and on the telephone; all the emails we had exchanged. I used to love receiving your emails. I never knew what you were going to write about next. You were so amazingly inventive. Some of the scenarios you described were so unusual and I could really picture them as if I were there. I smiled warmly to myself when I thought back to our lovemaking last night and how we hadn’t wanted to get out of bed this morning.
When the water began feeling a little cool and the CD had stopped playing, I decided it was time to get out of the bath. I put a bathrobe on and went downstairs to turn the heating up a fraction. It was autumn and there was a definite nip in the air. I got a glass of orange juice and wandered around in the kitchen as I drank it, thinking of you. There was the pinboard, covered in postcards you had sent me when we first met, and a stack of CDs – mostly yours - next to the CD player I had for my birthday. Then there was that bottle of wine I was planning on sharing with you this evening. An idea came into my head. I put the wine into the cooler and collected a few things together, glancing at the clock. You would be home very soon. I finished my juice and rinsed the glass, smiling to myself.
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