Weekdays flowed in a productive, therapeutic rhythm for me. I didn't always do the same thing at exactly the same time, which was really healthy to incorporate flexibility, but I did the same handful of things daily. I did devotions and prayed, I sang specific songs to access or process through emotions, I exercised, I volunteered at the humane society, and I cooked supper. I also took care of laundry, cleaning, and yard work as needed, and sometimes squeezed in thirty minutes or so of basking in the sun on a lawn chair.
Mondays were now taekwondo nights, so I would prep supper, but not actually cook until I got back home, unless Brad felt like starting it. Today I had left a casserole for him and texted instructions for when to put it in at what temperature.
Tonight was only my second class but I already loved it. Brad had insisted on paying for classes but I couldn't protest much. My medical bills were depleting my savings more than I cared to admit.
When I got home after the class, Brad was sorting through bills at the kitchen table and had a vase of fresh flowers sitting in front of him.
"Hey, beautiful", he greeted me in his calm, deep voice, and I felt my heart do a flip as his icy blue eyes met mine. He was so gorgeous, still so mysterious, and I was so completely in love with him, that I sometimes felt like I had in the first couple days of getting to know him.
"You like this class", he said, a smile slowly spreading across his face. "You're glowing".
"Nah, you just have that effect on me", I said, winking at him as I pulled off my running shoes.
He laughed loudly.
"Those are pretty", I commented.
He glanced at the flowers. "They reminded me of you".
"Thank you", I said, bending and giving him a kiss. "It feels amazing to punch and kick shit for an hour", I said, rubbing my right forearm where pins and plates stabilized and replaced parts of the bone that were removed after splintering upon my fall from Jay's plane.
"Mentally...but not physically?", he asked, watching me.
"No, both. My arm is sore now but it wasn't at the time".
"Leg?", he asked.
"It's fine".
"Okay, babe", he said, dropping it.
The timer went off and I grabbed potholders to pull the casserole out.
"Babe, can you possibly meet me at my bank at noon tomorrow? If not, you can stop in later, too. We have to fill things out to get you set up on my account, and it's easier if we can go together".
"I should be able to", I said. "I'll go to the shelter earlier, leave to meet you, then come back and finish up at regular time. I think I forgot to tell you I'm meeting Bre and Brittany to pick out flowers at three thirty tomorrow also, so I might be late for supper. I can have something ready for you again, though".
"Woah, slow down", Brad said, looking at me with trepidation. "I can handle finding something to eat if you're not home. I will not starve. I'm a grown ass man who fed himself for many years before you tracked me down. I will be fine".
He stood and grabbed me by my shoulders, and I anticipated a lecture. I looked away. He gently cupped my chin with one hand.
"Look at me".
I did.
"This is exactly what I don't want happening if you start working again. Busting your ass running around doing everything for everyone, and going above and beyond at your job, too, because you feel guilty asking anyone for help. If you need to cut your shift short tomorrow for the bank or for Bre, then do it. You're there every day and have even gone in when you weren't scheduled. Do not feel guilty about needing to do a couple things for yourself. Got it?"
YOU ARE READING
The Neverending Hangover
Romance*Second in the Fire Whiskey series* 'I had been amazed at the connection Brad and I had, and our connection was inexplicable, but this with Rev was something else. It was different but just as impressive. Was I cursed or blessed to have two amazing...
