out too, so I have to do everything by hand, grateful for the busy work that allows me to ignore the woman in my home.
I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. I laid awake, tossing and turning, thinking about her. Thinking about her only being down the hall from me, sleeping in my home. I had lost myself with her last night in the snow and I regret it.
That certainly wasn’t helping me get a restful sleep.
It’s been eight years since I last saw London, but seeing her now, spending time with her, it’s like something out of a dream. A reality I never imagined possible when I left.
It’s a daunting thought.
Scary as hell because being with her, it’s as if no time has passed.
The first, the only, girl I… loved.
I thought about what it would be like with her over the next couple of days, here with me only because of the storm and with no other reason to stay. She wants to leave. To spend Christmas with her family and I don’t blame her for that.
But that doesn’t mean I want her to go either.
It’s a funny realization that hit me harder than I expected.
Which is why I’m determined to keep her out. To not let the girl I fell for the moment I saw her all those years ago, lure me in the way only she can.
I have enough regrets when it comes to London Canterbury.
I finally managed to fall asleep, telling myself it’s only a couple of days. That if I keep myself in check, then she can’t dig into me too deep.
Then I saw her at the top of the stairs this morning and realized I’m already such a fucking mess with this woman.
I think I always have been.
She never went away.
Like pausing your favorite song, knowing that when you hit play again, it’ll all come rushing back word for word and note for note.
London finishes her breakfast quickly and I lead her through the rest of the first floor which she didn’t get to see last night. The renovations on this part of the house, leading out to the barn took the longest and the most money. Well, the most other than building my studio so I wouldn’t have to rent space or time in an open studio.
Once we reach the back of the house, stepping down into the solarium, she gasps as I knew she would. This room is my oasis. My ex thought it was a waste at the time. But I had just sold a huge light installation for a lot of money, and at the end of the day, it was my house and my call.
“Miles,” London says on an awed whisper, walking slowly into the center of the glass room. The wall on the left is dark planked wood with a large fireplace in the center. But everything else, the two other walls and the entire ceiling are glass panes. The roof was the hardest part. The skylights are five panes thick each to accommodate for their size and the weight of any snow. They’re sloped, but I’ve had to shovel them off a few times since this room was finished.
“Do you like it?”
“Like it?” She laughs incredulously, spinning around with a beaming smile before turning back to the room. “I love it. It’s incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like it.”
Her hand touches everything as she takes in the room. Every surface. Before she stops at the large French doors that lead out to the patio and the grounds beyond.
“How much land do you own?”
“Ten acres. Most of it is wooded, so I don’t have to do much with that.”
The snow is dropping from the sky and all around us is a sea of white. The skylights are completely covered, and I wish she were able to see what it’s like here in the spring, when everything is starting to bloom. All the colors that come with it.
Then I mentally kicked my own ass for those thoughts, repeating my mantra about distance, though it feels like it’s giving me the finger while laughing at me.
“The problem with this space is that it’s not heated by the generator as it’s in the back of the house and with all the glass, requires too much of a pull. When I had to make cuts to heat and power the necessities, this room hit the list.”
“I can feel that,” she says on an exaggerated shudder, wrapping her