A Dance of Life

38

The sun shining in my face wakes me up, and I groan. I don't remember falling asleep facing a window. I squeeze my eyes tighter and sink deeper into the bed, snuggling into the pillow beside me.

Wait. Bed?

I shake my head; of course, he carried me in after I fell asleep. I'm somehow not shocked to find myself amid blankets and pillows on what I assume is Nathan's bed. I laugh and bring the soft material closer to my nose, checking for his scent.

What are you, a dog? Get a hold of yourself.

The walls of the room are grey, but a large window lets in the right amount of light so it doesn't look too dull. The furniture and pillows are different hues of grey and white, and there's no personal touch in view. Odd.

I stretch and pick up my phone, checking for new messages. I try not to worry when I notice that Pat hadn't reached out or messaged, I hope that means she had a good night as well. I shake my head and dispel the negative thoughts, and decide to pray, making sure to focus on Pat and her family.

"Hey, you awake?" Nathan calls from the other side of the bedroom door as I'm rounding up.

"Yeah, you can come in," I reply, patting my hair down.

He gives me a soft smile as he enters and sits on the edge of the bed. "Sleep okay?"

"Nope," I tell him, shaking my head. "The pillow was way too soft, the bed way too comfortable, and the blanket... jeez, way too cozy."

He lets out a laugh that warms my insides. "Come on. I made breakfast."

I squint at him for a few seconds, examining his demeanor. He looks as neat as his house, and the stubble he had growing is shaved off. He's wearing a navy green sweatshirt with a pair of joggers.

"I'm not the breakfast, Annelise," he jokes, causing my mouth to drop open in disbelief. He points at the bedroom door and beckons his head. "Let's go; I'm sure you don't want to eat cold pancakes."

"Pancakes," I repeat, stepping out of bed. "You should have started with that."

I walk out of the room before him and head to the kitchen, slowing my steps when I see the array of food on the island. "You definitely didn't make all this," I voice as I sit on one of the barstools. "I know enough about cooking and baking to know that you couldn't have."

I pick up a warm croissant and tear it open, delighted to find it filled with chocolate. "You're trying to kill me," I say in awe.

Nathan chuckles and leans on the island beside me. "I'm just trying to show my girlfriend a good time," he states, causing me to smile. "I made the pancakes and the toast, but I bought the pastries from The Donut Hole. And of course, the fruits and whipped-cream came from a store."

"Okay, but how did you accomplish all this? And what if I woke up during all this preparation?" I ask, my mouth filled with buttery croissant.

"Pat helped," he informs me. He picks up a chocolate-covered strawberry and pops it into his mouth. "She grabbed the pastries while I made the pancakes and stuff, and we figured you were tired enough to sleep till ten."

"I have the best best friend," I sniff, wiping away an invisible tear. I place a pancake on a plate and lather it with cream, moaning as I take a bite, and it melts in my mouth. "I should be eating fruit salads; I'm fat enough as it is."

Frowning, Nathan turns my head to his and examines my face. I smile at him, hoping it would distract him. "You're not fat, Annelise, you're not even overweight."

Tell that to my stretch marks.

"I was joking, Nathan," I lie, blinking innocently at him.