OUR FIRST ARGUMENT
IT WAS AMAZING THAT WESTON wasn’t more injured than he was after his tumble from the treadmill. I helped to patch up a burn from the belt on his arm, along with a bleeding gash on his knee, but could do nothing for the bump on his head except kiss it. He said it made it better, but I think he was just placating me. It was sweet nonetheless.
I kissed his boo-boos one last time before we curled up in bed together that night. Our first night with my belongings combined with his; my clothes in his closet, toothbrush touching his, the other vanity no longer empty. I fell asleep easily wrapped in his arms, fingers caressing me into dreamland.
All too soon the alarm was blaring and his body left mine. Weston had unfortunately left for work early with the promise of returning
