He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze, urging my eyes back to his. “I just feel like for this to work, we need to get everything out in the open.” Here it comes. He’s done with me. Again. “I should have said something sooner. I should have told you—”

“Stop! You don’t have to tell me anything,” I interject, cutting him off. “That lady was crazy, so don’t let what she said get to you. We’re fine. Last night was...perfect. Let’s not ruin it with thinking too much.”

Ryan looks at me, saying nothing but squeezing my hand tighter. “I don’t think us not talking is going to help.”

“Maybe not,” I say. “But just trust me on this, okay? Please?” We’re still standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Horns and sirens blare in the street beside us as determined pedestrians pass us by. We barely notice.

“Okay,” he eventually agrees. I nod and try to walk away but he only pulls me back again. “And just so you know, last night was perfect for me, too.”

I didn’t know how much I needed him to say that until his words weave through and around me in a uniquely intricate pattern. I give his hand a tug and he wraps his arm around my waist as we finally continue walking home. And as I pull him the slightest bit closer, I try not to pay too much attention to the fact that I’m starting to think of the apartment as our home, and not just mine.

It is now 7:15 p.m. and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t losing it a bit. After a relaxing afternoon of dog walks and writing, Ryan left a half hour ago, saying he needed to get supplies to cook us dinner.

It’s dark out now and for some reason, our situation seems totally different out of the sheltered light of day. Days are for friends, nights are for friends who get freaky.

I have no idea how to act towards him when he gets home. Will things be different? Will he act differently?

I doubt he’s overthinking things. He probably does this all the time. Not sleep with college girlfriends whom he once deflowered, obviously, but he’s always had a better poker face than me. I’ll deal with the situation either way. If it was a mistake, so be it. If it happens again, yeehaw.

I take a deep breath and almost choke on it when I hear my apartment door unlock moments later. Before I know it, Ryan is in view and my eyes go large at the sight of him. He shuts the door with the back of his foot and I can barely see his face over the tower of “supplies” he’s carrying.