Dear Rosie, (Love Letters #2)

ONE HUNDRED THIRTY-EIGHT

ROSALYN

Warmth surrounds me.

I inhale the scent of laundry and cologne, reminding me exactly where I am.

In Nathan’s bed.

The weight against my back and across my side throws me off for a moment, and I crack my eyes open.

The bed before me is empty.

I stretch my arm out, unable to reach the other side.

Nathan was in his spot when I fell asleep, but now he’s behind me, spooning me with his heat.

I close my eyes and soak in the feel of him.

Maybe he got up to use the bathroom and decided to climb onto my side because it’s closer.

My lips pull up in a small smile as I picture his butt hanging over the edge of the bed.

Then my eyes open again.

Thinking about going to the bathroom makes me realize how badly I have to go.

I nervously drank about five ginger ales during dinner, and now I’m paying the price.

Craning my neck, I look at the clock.

Four a.m.

If I don’t go now, I’ll wake up again in an hour, having to pee so bad my stomach will ache.

Trying to stay sleepy so I can go right back to bed, I keep my eyes half closed as I shimmy out of Nathan’s hold and crawl across his side of the mattress.

I hear the thump of Charles jumping off the bed, then he follows me into the bathroom.

I don’t turn any lights on, having learned my way around, and I scratch the top of Charles’s head as he bumps into my shins while I sit on the toilet.

The cat continues to follow me as I wash my hands, then head back into the bedroom. And I soak in his companionship.

Out of habit, I walk toward my side of the bed, forgetting it’s occupied.

I’m yawning when something crinkles under my foot.

Instinct of stepping on something foreign has me jerking my foot away.

And I almost keep moving.

Almost ignore it and go back to bed.

But Nathan never has anything on his floor.

I blink in the darkness, my eyes adjusting enough to see the pile of clothes also around my feet.

What…