The morning light shines through the windows, the penthouse is quiet. Caleb's already up. I smell a coffee aroma from the kitchen.
I walk out and find him at the counter. Two mugs ready. One regular, one decaf.
"Morning, slept well?" he says. Hands me decaf.
"Morning. Yes thank you"
We sit at the counter and drink the coffee in silence. We're both exhausted from yesterday. The funeral, Clara's cancer, Marcus's letter.
Everything.
"I was thinking," Caleb says. "You've been here almost a week. But you're still living out of a suitcase. Still in the guest room like you're visiting."
"I am visiting. Sort of."
"Are you? Or are you staying?"
I look at him. "I don't know yet."
"Then let's find out. Move in properly. Not as a guest. As someone who lives here. See how it feels."
"Caleb…
