“Thank you, for being here.”

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Another tear falls, but I wipe it away quickly.

My parents and Genna arrive, and I hear the cries and shrieks coming from down the hall. As I hug them all, Parker never lets go of my hand.

Everyone waits for me to finish all my discharge paperwork. Parker doesn’t take his hands off me. He’s either rubbing my back, holding my hand, or keeping his arm wrapped tightly around me. As much as it makes it more difficult to finish my paperwork, I don’t move away from his touch.

I have to have a follow-up appointment with Dr. Olson next week, and another echocardiogram in four days, followed by an appointment with Dr. James, the cardiologist.

“Are you ready?” Parker asks.

“You have no idea.”

Keeping his arm around me, he tucks me to his side, as if we can’t get close enough. “I’ve missed having you this close to me.”

“I’ll be close to you all night. I promise.”

“I was hoping that was in the cards for the evening.”

My parents offer to take me out to dinner and celebrate, but I turn them down. I just want to spend time with Parker. They appear sad when I explain that to them, but understand. I promise to see them tomorrow.

When we make it back to his place, Parker helps me get settled and puts my clothes in the wash.

“Are you hungry? I can make us something. I rented a movie too.”

“I’m not that hungry, but maybe some popcorn with the movie.”

I walk into his bedroom, slipping my wig off and wash my face. My hair hasn’t started to grow back. There is some fuzz scattered on top of my head, but it looks as if I’m a fifty year old who has a hormonal imbalance with hairs of different textures growing randomly.

Finding a shirt in Parker’s closet, I sort through his dresser drawers in search of a pair of boxers to wear. Once I’m changed, rinsed, and comfortable, I head back out into the living room where he’s waiting for me on the couch. The aroma of popcorn fills the room and my stomach starts to growl.

“Do you have any pickle juice?” I ask, making my way into the kitchen.

“Pickle juice?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a negative. I don’t like pickles.”

Halting mid-stride, I turn around and walk back into the living room. “You don’t like pickles? How did I not know this?”

“No?” He speaks hesitantly as if he’s afraid he’s saying the wrong thing.

Who doesn’t like pickles?

“What?” he asks, looking around the room like he’s ready to go into battle.

“I can’t eat popcorn without pickle juice.”

“Excuse me?”

“I always have pickle juice with my popcorn.”

“Uhh …”

Walking back into his kitchen, I open the fridge to see what I can put with my popcorn. I remember Genna putting lemon pepper on it once, and it tasted good, so I look for that in his cabinet.

I love popcorn, but I can’t eat it with just plain butter. There needs to be flavor with it. Caramel, cheese, pickle juice, or … lemon pepper!

Parker watches me with wide eyes as I sprinkle the seasoning over the popcorn, making sure to coat every kernel.

“Easy there, woman.”

Shrugging, I put the cap back on setting it on the coffee table. Grabbing a handful, I place a few kernels in my mouth. The potent and tangy taste of the lemon fills my lungs as I breathe it in, causing me to end in a coughing fit.

“That good, huh?” he laughs.

I laugh with him between bites. “Yeah, it’s not bad.”

“So … pickle juice?”

“Don’t knock it ’til you try it. That shit is amazing.”

“Who came up with that odd combination?”

“Genna,” I say, grabbing another bite.

“And this?” He motions toward the lemon pepper-covered popcorn.

I shrug.

“I think I saw Genna do this once.”

After insisting Parker try it, he lets out a small reluctant sigh. “The things I do for you.”

We end up spending the night snuggled up on the couch. I watch the movie while he watches me. Whenever I look over at him, he just gives me a small smile. He doesn’t take his eyes off me, and he never lets go of my hand. Eventually, a heavy feeling creeps over my eyelids and I drift off to sleep.

I wake up in Parker’s arms in the middle of his soft mattress. He’s sound asleep on his back with his arms stretched high above his head. Without disturbing him, I make my way into his bathroom to take a shower.

I smile when I see the baby pink toothbrush next to his green one.

Halfway through my shower, strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back toward a hard chest.

“Good morning, beautiful.” I feel a quick kiss on the back of my head before I’m being turned around. His facial hair is a little longer than normal, but not quite a full beard.

His hand on my waist pulls me closer.

“I enjoy waking up with you here.” His voice is calm. The sound of the running water washes out the sounds of my beating heart as I wait for him to make the first move.

“Me too.” I can feel his arousal against my thigh.

My breath catches when his teeth come down to bite my right shoulder.

Four weeks away from him has been complete and utter torture for me. I can feel the tears sting my eyes at the thought of how much I truly missed him.