I rolled to my side, glanced at his pillow and saw the dent.
I knew Tor, after watching television late into the night, had carried me to my room. When he put me on my feet by the bed, still exhausted and half asleep, I disrobed, found a clean nightie, yanked it over my head, then collapsed into bed, falling back to sleep the instant my head hit the pillow.
And seeing the dent, it was apparent Tor slept with me.
Oh well, whatever.
I decided since the ibuprofen had eventually worked the day before and I now had coffee that I would head to my pill stash in the kitchen which was a room that fortunately also housed the coffeemaker. So this was what I did.
Tor came in after I set the coffee to brewing and he was wearing nothing but one of my forest green towels (they weren’t girlie, which sucked, I liked girlie, but they were the only thing (as well as the rust accent colors I used) that didn’t look putrid against my bathroom suite).
As I stared at his chest coming my way, he greeted, “Morning, wife.”
My body jolted to alert but not in time. I was swept up in one of his arms and his head was descending. He gave me a hard, warm, close-mouthed kiss then broke his mouth from mine.
As I tried to get my head together, he glanced at the filling coffeepot, opened the cupboard over it and pulled down two mugs, not loosening his arm while saying, “I like these indoor waterfalls you have.”
“What?” I asked dazedly and his light blue eyes came back to mine.
“Your indoor waterfalls. These, and your front room, the color of your sheets and the night garments you wear, so far, are the only things I like in your world.”
“Um… you mean shower,” I told him.
His brows went up. “Shower?”
“Yes, like a rain shower except it’s a bathroom shower.”
“Ah,” he murmured, his lips twitching, “clever play on words.”
I hadn’t thought of it like that but it was true.
“Tor –”
“I need food,” he announced, moving to the refrigerator, opening it and he did this taking me with him with his arm still around me.
“I’ll make you breakfast. Now, Tor –”
He was digging through the fridge (which held milk, Diet Coke, regular Coke, bologna, American cheese, condiments and nothing else) and he didn’t even look at me when he interrupted, “I’ll need new clothing. I do not want to wear the other me’s garments.”
“We’ll go to the mall. Now, Tor –”
He looked down at me and he was grinning and looking weirdly happy so I snapped my mouth shut because it was a good look.
“So, you’re going to cook for me?”
“Uh… sure.”
“Do you have eggs in your world?”
“We do, but I don’t have eggs in my apartment. I’ll have to run to the corner market.”
He let me go and turned to the door, stating, “I’ll go.”
I stared at his muscled back. Then I cried, “Tor!” and followed him. When I hit the living room, he was crouched by the open TV cabinet and reaching in. “What are you doing?”
His head tipped back so he could look at me. “I assume in your world, like my world, vendors expect payment?”
“Well, yeah.”