What lies in the shadow : From university to unexpected love.

After dinner, I excuse myself, needing a bit of relaxation. I head to the bathroom and start to take a long, hot shower, letting the steam rise around me, trying to loosen the knot that's been living in my chest since yesterday. The water is comforting, almost burning my skin and everything that feels bad, but the anxiety doesn't budge. It lingers just beneath my skin, quiet and sharp.

When I finally step out, I wrap myself in a towel. My skin is flushed and damp, my reflection in the mirror looking more tired than I expected. I dry off quickly and pull on one of my old t-shirts and a pair of short pajama bottoms. Part of me hopes David will already be in the bedroom, waiting quietly, maybe reading.

But when I peek inside, the room is empty. The bed looks too big, the house too still.I can not settle here on my own. My heart starts to beat a little faster. There's something about the silence that feels too heavy, like I've been left behind, forgotten. I don't want to be alone right now. Not tonight.

I step into the hallway, padding barefoot across the polished floor. The light is dim, and shadows stretch long against the walls. I find David in his office working on his computer, and my voice catches in my throat before I manage to speak.

"David," I call for him softly, barely more audible than a whisper.

He stops his work and turns toward me. His expression softens the moment he sees me, his eyes gentle, like he already knows what I'm going to say.

"Everything okay?" he asks.

I hesitate. I don't want to sound weak. I don't want to admit how unsettled I feel, how badly I need to not feel alone.

"I… I don't want to be by myself tonight," I say quietly, ashamed. The words tumble out before I can second-guess them. "Could you stay? Just for tonight?"

He let out a long sight. But then he nods. "You will be the death of me Deirdre." he says gently. "But fine, I'll stay with you tonight." He offers a smile.

We return to his bedroom in silence. He grabs a faux fur blanket in the living room on his way upstairs. No need to talk, no need to fill the space with words. I get comfy under the blankets inside the huge king size bed. He lies down beside me on top of the blankets. His presence is reassuring and grounding. I feel warmer with him there. He settles, turning his back to me.

The room is quiet except for our breathing. I stare at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that this moment, this small sliver of peace, is real. That the danger, the questions, the sense of being hunted… they can wait while I enjoy being in his bed with him. Even if it is purely innocent.

Just for tonight, I'm not alone.

And that, for now, is enough.