Four Week Fiance 2(24)

“Hey.” Mila’s voice sounded happy as she came running out of the kitchen towards me. “You’re home.” She ran up to me and gave me a big hug and a kiss on the lips, her cheeks a rosy pink, and her eyes sparkling in happiness.

“I am,” I said and kissed her back, my heart feeling odd as I gazed at her. “I see you did some shopping.”

“Just some small stuff.” She laughed as she gazed around the apartment and realized just how much she’d transformed my place. There were flowers everywhere and lots of new knick-knacks, like vases and little pots and containers with candles and candy. She’d also added some new art to my walls, bright colorful Picasso prints that popped out and made the room seem grander. There was a new throw blanket on the couch that she’d gotten; it was made of alpaca wool and it was gray and soft and even though I didn’t know what an alpaca was, I enjoyed the feeling of it covering us when we lay on the couch together. I was a man and would never admit to it, but I liked the small luxuries that she’d brought to my life.

“I have a new couch coming as well.” She bit down on her lower lip and looked up at me with wide eyes.

“You have a new couch coming?” I asked her with a grin, laughing at her joke.

“I’m not joking, TJ.” She giggled. “Don’t be mad.”

“You seriously have a new couch coming?” I asked her, my eyes searching hers and I could tell from her expression that she was dead serious. “What’s wrong with my couch?”

“Leather? Dark, sticky leather?” She made a face. “So unattractive.”

“It’s comfortable.” I shrugged, still not quite believing that she’d actually purchased a new couch. That was a huge purchase and I really felt taken aback. I’d never expected Mila to get that comfortable in my place. I liked it and hated it both at the same time.

“It’s not cute, though.” She wrinkled her nose as she looked over at my most prized piece of furniture. “And there are no throw pillows.”

“It’s soft enough to not need throw pillows,” I said and looked at my couch longingly. “Plus, we have an alpaca throw blanket now. Isn’t that enough?”

“No, TJ.” She giggled and shook her head.

“When will it be leaving my abode?” I asked mournfully, wondering if I could hold some sort of funeral for the couch before it left. And the funeral would consist of us having sex on the couch in multiple positions. That would partially make up for her replacing it.

“Hopefully this weekend.” She looked at me nervously. “I told the store we’d pay extra for a fast delivery of the new sectional.”

“You did, did you?” I raised an eyebrow at her. What had happened to the girl who was too timid to use my credit card? She’d obviously disappeared. I was going to make a comment, but I stopped myself. I had a feeling if I made a joke, she’d take it self-consciously and then maybe she really would stop using the card. Which I didn’t want. I liked that she felt comfortable enough with me now to not call me every time she wanted to charge twenty dollars for some silly purchase. I had plenty of money and I was happy for her to use it.

“Yeah, I wanted it to arrive in time for the dinner party. Make our home look more cozy to everyone.” She gave me a winning smile.

“Are you saying our home isn’t cozy?” I asked her and she smirked at me. I saw her smiling and realized that I’d said “our home,” as opposed to “my home.” It was weird that I was starting to think of this as our home now. I wasn’t sure how it was going to feel when she moved out. How cozy and homey all her little knick-knacks would feel once she was gone. I’d most probably pack them up into a box and take them to Goodwill. I wouldn’t want to be reminded of her time here. Not once everything came out. It would remind me too much of all I’d lost.

“What do you think, TJ?” she said and then shrieked and ran back to the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” I followed behind her and watched as she hurriedly opened the oven door.

“I’m roasting some potatoes and I didn’t want them to burn.” She pulled out a tray from the oven and placed them on top of the stove. “You like herb-roasted potatoes, right?” She turned to me with a sweet smile. “I remember you used to scarf them down when you’d come over. My mom used to call you the potato monster.”

“She did, didn’t she?” I laughed as I remembered all of the meals that I’d eaten with her family. I’d never thought that one day, we’d be here and she’d be cooking for me. “Her potatoes were the bomb.”

“Yeah, so are mine, though.” Mila laughed.

“As long as you don’t burn them.” I winked at her. “Your mom would never burn them.”

“Shh, you.” She grabbed a towel and swatted me with it as she laughed. “If you keep insulting me, you won’t get any dinner.”

“Hmm, let me hear what’s for dinner, first.” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Then I’ll decide if I want to keep insulting you.”

“You’re incorrigible.” She giggled. “I’m making a roast chicken, with roast potatoes, gravy, Brussels sprouts and carrots.”

“Sounds delicious.” I licked my lips.