Page 68 of Lesson Learned

“Something like that,” I tell her, leading her into a private theatre room that I’ve barely ever used.

She stares around, her eyes like gigantic Os, then laughs. “Of course, you have your own theatre.”

“Of course,” I mimic in agreement. “Would you like a seat in the front row or the back?”

She picks one at the back of the room, immediately putting her feet on the chair in front of her.

“Rebel.”

“They’re clean,” she says as though I’d chastised her. “Promise.”

“Never doubted it for a second. Coke? Popcorn?”

“You have movie popcorn?”

“I have microwave popcorn,” I admit. “But I can put extra butter in it to make sure you overshoot your calories for the day.”

“Yes, please.”

I fetch them from the kitchen, tapping my fingers impatiently on the bench as I wait for them to be ready. Once I come back through, I grab the remotes, dim the lights, and take the seat next to her, like I’m taking my girl to the movies on a standard, everyday date.

Gloriously normal.

“What are we watching?” she asks, snuggling next to me and taking a handful of popcorn from her packet, then snatching some from mine. “What? Stolen popcorn always tastes better.”

“We’re watching the new Taika movie, like I wanted to, way back when. You haven’t seen it yet, have you?”

She shakes her head, looking gleeful, and my stomach loosens in relief. I hadn’t been able to think of anything else to do at home. Sneaking around might sound great in theory but in practice it’s an absolute pain.

“Good. There’s another few cued up if you don’t like it.”

“I’ll love it.”

Her feet disappear off the seat as she pays attention. My heart thumps loudly as I stretch my arm out, resting it on the back of her chair, then slowly lower it into position. She snuggles into the embrace, continuing to help herself to my popcorn, though thankfully she draws a line at sharing a drink.

Halfway through, I feel a light touch on my knee. Her fingers have gone exploring. I spend the rest of the movie spending as much time watching her as the screen, even though there’s nothing wrong with the storyline.

Sometimes, I see her stealing her own glimpses and I have a weird bubbly sensation in my chest.

“That was fantastic,” she declares when the show is over. “You rich people really know how to live.”

“I’m sure I can find something far more expensive to do than that.”

“Like buying me dresses I don’t need.”

I take her hand from the seat and kiss each knuckle in turn. When I glance at her face, she’s lit up like a torch, and I’m tempted to haul her into bed.

“I did ask some people to stop by with some things…”

Her shoulders hunch again, and I reassure her. “If you don’t want to take them, you don’t have to.”

“Good because I don’t want things,” she says in a soft voice. “I just want to spend time with you.”

“Would you prefer I cancel them?”

“Can you?” When I nod, her face shows so much relief it’s like I just saved her from a firing squad. The arrangements take even less time to cancel than they did to arrange. Once I’m finished, she pats the arm of her chair. “The only thing I don’t like about your home movie theatre is these. It’s like they’re trying to keep us apart.”

“They are,” I whisper, tucking her hair behind her ear. Everything about her is so delicate, so small, so soft. As much as I looked forward to her being incapacitated, unresponsive, I now crave the opposite. Needing to worship her body while she’s fully awake and aware. To connect to her in far deeper ways. “But I think you can probably lift them.”

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