Andre awoke Friday evening in an empty bed. He wasn’t in the least bit surprised. He hardly expected Sand to suddenly become a night owl because of him. Hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling, remembering what they’d said to each other twelve hours previously. We’re getting there. One step at a time we’re making it work. Who would have thought, three weeks ago, that I could get involved to this extent with someone who I considered my enemy? For damned sure I wouldn’t have. Now look at us.
He smiled when he heard the bedroom door open and saw Sand standing there.
“Are you going to get up?” Sand asked.
“I could make the rather tired joke that I am, already, but I won’t. It would be a lie unfortunately, although if you care to join me I’m sure it will be true quite fast.”
Sand
