Forever Mine

STEPH

Istare at the wrapped present. “Oh, can I open it or—”

“Save it for your actual birthday.”

I pop the gift to one side.

“Fuck it. Unwrap it now. I want to see your face.”

“Okay.” I smile like a kid. “It feels like a book.”

Cal beams as I tear off the wrapping.

“It is a book, Secrets of the Renaissance. I love it, thank you.”

“I wasn't sure if you had read it already. You knew a lot about Botticelli.”

“I haven't read it, thank you.”

Underneath the book is another gift, a thin beautiful scarf with the Birth of Venus printed on the fabric. “This is beautiful.”

The sheer fabric slips through my fingers, and I wrap it around my neck and lean over the table to kiss his lips.

“I went to London for a work meeting recently, and I visited the National Gallery.”

“It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”

The doorbell rings. “That was quick.”

Cal returns from the hall and places the box on the table and gets me a plate.

The smell fills the kitchen when I lift the lid. “This pizza looks delicious. I haven't eaten pizza in a while.”

Cal sits opposite me at the table. “You look like you've lost weight since Christmas.”

“I wouldn’t know. I stopped going to my slimming group.”

“I’m glad. You know you’re beautiful, whatever size you are, right?”

“Thank you, Cal. You always say the nicest things.”

“It’s true. You don’t see me weighing myself every week. The scales don’t measure the size of your heart, Steph.”

“Or the size of your dick, huh?” A giggle bursts from my lips.

He smirks, chewing down his pizza.

“So, do you have a job?”

“I’m gonna move in with Priya while I look for one. Hopefully, something will turn up. Sydney’s a big place. I just need to be near my girls.”

I nod, biting into the greasy pizza and the strings of melted cheese drip down my chin. “So good,” I mumble with my mouthful.

“I’m gonna make you say that next time you have a mouthful of my dick.” Cal chuckles, watching me wipe the grease from my lips and chin.

Numbness claims my skin as if I’m turning to stone. There won’t be a next time. He won’t be here after tomorrow. Weight presses down on my shoulders, and I slump back in the chair.

“What’s that noise?” Cal mumbles.