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I left that bar ecstatic a few days ago, silly I know, since there are no guarantees that anything will work out. Just the thought that she is in Paris, not too far away dragged me through the days as I slowly got my energy back.
Being alone again in the apartment, without Renee to stop by, it took me a few days to find rest. I haven’t seen Bette ever since, taking time for myself to come to terms with all that happened the last months. Every morning she sends me a text to ask how I am. Every evening I send her a text to wish her good night. And one day, when the doorbell rang, I found a gift basket on my doorstep filled with wine and cheese, my favorite chocolates, relaxing bath products, a book and some more stuff all in the theme of relaxation. She was always so thoughtful, always giving warmth, consistent love and attention. That is why I fell for her, why my nature trusted her before my mind could too. She told me not to worry about her, that she’d be fine and let me swear to take care of myself first. Which I did and I have to admit it felt really good, even though I’m still sad and weary.
It took a while to realize that she really stayed here and that she isn’t going anywhere any time soon. With that she took away the feeling of having a dead-line to restore our marriage.
I let out a breath while the sound of the dial tone rings through my ear, feeling a whit of nervousness in my stomach. I believe I paced the whole apartment by now several times, cursing myself for being so childish.
‘Hey.’ Her you-caught-me-off-guard voice greets me on the other side of the line. I don’t know if she was doing something and is interrupted by my call or she is just surprised that I am calling her.
‘I didn’t tell you that the cheese you sent me was delicious. It went really well with the wine.’ I blur out as I sit down on the armrest of the couch.
‘You and your mom have such a unique way to start a phone conversation, I don’t think I ever got used to it. But I’m happy that you liked it.’ Her soft chuckle in my ear encourages me to continue in the same fashion. We were always joking about how my mother ends phone calls but I never paid attention to the way she actually starts a conversation. Maybe Bette is right and I don’t notice it because it’s so common for me.