Bring Me Back

I shut down my computer and leave my office.

Hours have passed, and I should eat dinner, but I’m not very hungry after having such a big lunch. A little dessert for dinner never hurt anyone, right? Definitely not. I pile two scoops of chocolate ice cream into a bowl, add chocolate syrup, and chocolate chips. I really like chocolate.

I sit on the couch to eat it and watch TV.

When I’ve licked every drop of ice cream from my spoon and there’s none left in the bowl, I wash it out and head upstairs to shower.

When I get in bed it’s a little after nine and I have to laugh to myself. I’ve turned into my mother—although, she usually goes to bed by eight. Regardless, I’ve officially reached the level of adult-adult where you never go out anymore and you’re asleep before ten. It’s kind of pathetic, but it’s the circle of life.

I fall asleep clutching my pillow, and sometime in the night I feel Ben climb into bed and slip his arms around my body.

I smile even in my sleep.

I wake up to the smell and sound of bacon cooking.

I sit up and rub my eyes, blinking at the clock. Lit up in green the numbers flash 7:10. The bed is empty beside me—no surprise there.

I slip out of bed and shuffle my feet into a pair of slippers. I’m always cold when I wake up so I grab my sweatshirt from the chair and tug it on before I pad downstairs.

I round the corner to find Ben standing at the stove with his back to me.

He’s shirtless

and the muscles in his back flex as he moves. He hasn’t heard me yet, and he’s intent on what he’s doing—popping a piece of bread in the toaster.

I finally decide to make my presence known. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

He looks at me over his shoulder with an impish smile. “I didn’t eat before I went to bed, so I’m hungry. I’ll catch a nap later.”

“Why didn’t you eat?” I frown and step up beside him.

“I was too tired.” He yawns.

“Here, let me make breakfast.”

He shakes his head. “No, let’s do it together.”

Ben always prefers for us to do this kind of stuff together, and I find it to be sweet and endearing.

“Okay.” I nod.

He lets me take over with the eggs and he adds more bacon to the other pan.

We work side by side in companionable silence.

One of the best pieces of advice my mom gave me was when she said, “Find a man that even in silence you’re comfortable with. That’s a telling factor, B. If someone makes you nervous to the point that you have to chatter endlessly, then they’re not the person for you. You need to be able to communicate without saying a word.”

As if to demonstrate this, Ben turns away from the stove to grab a plate. He hands it to me to put the finished eggs on.

He finishes the bacon and I begin to put together our plates. I add the eggs and toast—buttering the toast, of course.

Ben adds a pile of bacon to each of our plates. He doesn’t indulge in it often, but when he does, he has it in excess.

We sit at the kitchen table and Winnie comes out of nowhere to jump on the table beside Ben. Neither of us wastes our breath scolding her to get off. She never listens and only turns her nose up at us when we do.

“How did yesterday go?” Ben asks, chewing on a piece of bacon.

“The dress is perfect,” I tell him. “They’re making a few alterations, but it’s almost ready.”