End Game - Taylor Swift

Communication

The days turned into weeks, and slowly but surely, we began putting our relationship back together. It wasn't easy, and there were plenty of bumps along the way. But each day that passed filled me with a sense of hope, a sense that we could overcome anything as long as we were together.

As we worked on rebuilding our relationship, I found myself falling more and more in love with Alex, if that was even possible. She was patient and understanding, never once bringing up the past or holding it against me. Despite her forgiveness, I still struggled with my own feelings of guilt and shame. I had hurt her deeply, and the knowledge that I had caused her pain gnawed at me constantly. She assured me that she forgave me, and that she wanted to move past it, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I didn't deserve her.

I sat on the bleachers, waiting for Alex to finish her soccer practice. It was a hot day, and the air was thick with humidity. 
Finally, I spotted her emerge from the locker room, sweaty and flushed but looking beautiful as ever.

"Bubbles!"

I called out, waving to get her attention. She looked up and smiled when she saw me, her expression lighting up. 

"Hey,"

She walked over to where I was sitting. She sat down next to me, close enough that our shoulders touched.

"You were great out there," I said, taking in her disheveled hair and sweaty skin. 
She rolled her eyes, but I could see the hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. "You weren't even watching me practice," she said, giving me a playful shove

"I was totally watching you, I could see you all the way up here." 

She laughed, the sound like music to my ears. "You're such a liar,"

"Hey, I'll have you know I was ogling you the whole time,"

"Don't be a perv," she said, but she was clearly enjoying the banter.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said, pretending to be offended. 
She rolled her eyes again, but she was still smiling. "You're ridiculous,"

After the soccer season ended, we decided to celebrate by renting a penthouse in Los Angeles for the summer. It was a spacious and luxurious apartment, with a full kitchen, a living room, and a huge terrace with a pool and a hot tub.  We spent our days exploring the city, going to museums and restaurants, and enjoying the warm California weather. At night, we would curl up on the couch and watch movies, or take a dip in the hot tub under the stars.

As much as we enjoyed our time together, something was different this time around. We weren't as intimate as we had been before. While we still kissed and cuddled, we hadn't had sex in weeks. 

I tried not to let it bother me, telling myself that we were trying to take things slow and build a solid foundation for our relationship.

But as the days turned into weeks, I couldn't help feeling frustrated. I missed the passion we used to have, the undeniable chemistry that had always been there between us. 
I tried to talk to Alex about it, but she brushed me off, telling me that she wasn't ready yet and that she needed some more time.

Alex sat on the counter, watching me as I made us lunch. 

"How come you always make better sandwiches than me?"

I turned to her.

"It's all in the secret ingredient."

I said, holding up a bottle of mayo.

"Mayo? That's your secret ingredient?" she ask, raising an eyebrow. 
I nodded, spreading a thick layer of mayonnaise on the bread. "Yep. It adds a certain something that regular mustard or ketchup can't quite match up to."