I wake up alone in Kay’s bed. The room is flooded with light and when my eyes find the alarm clock, I realize I haven’t slept like this in months—maybe years. I can smell bacon and another realization hits me: I haven’t felt this cared for in a long time. Perhaps because I didn’t let myself, but with Kay, it’s all so effortless. I can’t stop questioning my motives—questioning even the smallest events in life has been my main occupation for as long as I can remember—but for a few seconds while stretching my limbs before pushing my nose into Kay’s pillow and inhaling her scent, I allow myself to forget why I’m here, and revel in the prospect of this brand new day.
Then I remember that my mother is visiting this afternoon. And that I’m supposed to prepare a fancy meal for Kay tonight. A star
