“I don’t know.”

Derek’s home was a stylish and modern two-bedroom apartment on the fourteenth floor of a high-rise. Every time Antonia walked across the threshold, an uneasiness settled in her stomach.

She would have to live here.

Not that she didn’t love the clean Scandinavian decor or its location on the South Loop; not too far from everything that was popular in Chicago. If she wanted to, she could walk only five minutes to Grant Park from Derek’s apartment. She enjoyed shuffling around in her socks on his wooden floors and running her hand over the exposed brick walls. His furniture was lovely and modern, arranged with extreme care. Everything was perfect in Derek’s apartment. But he assumed that when they got married, she would just move here. The apartment, after all, was closer to both of their jobs...

She wondered what, in her eclectic apartment, she could make fit into Derek’s orderly life. Would she bring her favorite old reading chair, the one with the sunken cushion and worn spots on the arms? Where would she put all of her books? Derek didn’t exactly have the bookshelf space for her immense library. As Derek set his briefcase on the same vestibule bench, she was reminded of the phrase: everything in its right place. Antonia stepped out of her high heels and let the cool wood floor relax her aching feet. My god, I have to say something.

“Derek, we need to talk.”

He had already disappeared around the corner and into the master bedroom, leaving her in the living room. “What’s that?” he called out.

She waited a moment, thinking of what to say, before following his trail. When she found him, he was already in his bedroom undressing. He was down to his boxer briefs. Antonia inhaled sharply and made the effort to engage him in a conversation. His body was always a distraction. Derek’s skin shone like amber in the low light of his bedroom. He was what her mother would call “high-yella,” a term Antonia disliked. It smacked of an older time in her mother’s life. But Derek’s golden skin made him a black Adonis. The constant trips to the gym also kept his tall frame lean and fit. Dark brown hair peppered his bare chest, trailing down to his waistband.

Her throat went dry.

Words that were ready to tumble forth, were now stuck in her mouth. Antonia shook her head. “I just wanted...”

“Hold that thought, babe,” Derek said sliding his black briefs down. He kicked them off his feet and stood legs astride, pleased with himself. Antonia’s mouth snapped shut. She noted how his stride to the bathroom was a confident one. Even while he was entirely nude, he walked taller than most. She was a wilted plant compared to his lion-like display. “Let me get some hot water on me,” he said from the bathroom. The shower’s spray blasted the silence of the apartment, effectively drowning her out.

Antonia resigned to flopping herself against his plush California king bed. As her head hit the goose-down pillows, she closed her eyes and used the moment to rest her weary body. The last thing that she wanted to do was leave the haven of Derek’s bed. The high thread-count alone was enough to “Netflix and chill” the night away. But his parents were still on her mind. Antonia probably looked as tired as she felt. Had she planned accordingly, she could have brought a change of clothes and her makeup bag to the office. Derek couldn’t account for these things like she did. When they first started dating, she’d managed his calendar like it was hers. Antonia had reminded him to attend company sponsored events and parties, arranged thoughtful gifts for the hosts, and always came prepared with something clever to say about finance or sports. The third had been especially difficult because she cared nothing for either subject. But wherever they went, Antonia made certain that they appeared perfect and orderly. Everything in its right place.