Married To My Ex

Eight

Time passes slowly when you have nothing to do.

I started going for runs every morning, finding various different paths everyday. Avoiding any routine. Some training can't be broken.

I went to a craft store. Without anything else happening, I needed a hobby until I found a job. I bought a bunch of yarn and a crochet hook. My bed needed a new blanket, I decided. I watched more videos on it than I did attempt to crochet. But at least it was something to do.

Friday was here again, my excitement was practically bubbling out of me. Steve hadn't texted to confirm this time, but I knew him well enough to know he'll be here. I wondered who would be coming with him.

My apartment was cleaned spotless as I attempted to not be sitting and waiting for my company, fearful of looking pathetic and lonely. Which I was.

There was a knock, followed by Steve walking through my door holding take out bags. "Before you yell, I feel like that's a decent compromise."

I laughed, "Works for me. Whatcha get this time?"

"Chinese. With full disclosure, I had to ask FRIDAY for your order."

"Appreciate the honesty." I smiled at him as he placed everything on the counter. I walked by to grab plates and that's when I realized we were alone.

Almost as if he read my mind, "Nat and Buck are having date night. And honestly, I hadn't told anyone else where you lived and I wanted to confirm with you before I did."

Always so thoughtful. The feeling of being cared for filled me in a way I wasn't prepared for. "Anyone but him is welcome. But I really appreciate the thought. Thank you, Steve."

"Sure thing." He filled his plate up and then walked himself right over to my couch and got comfortable. I followed and sat on the other side of the couch, curling up and resting the plate on my legs. We ate for a bit that way, comfortable in silence.

"So, movie?" I asked, picking up the remote. "What do you wanna watch?"

"You can pick. I probably haven't seen it." Steve smiled. I know that even he joked a lot about it, his being from another time was hard for him.

"Well, I probably haven't seen any movie you'd pick either." I joked.

He contemplated that, smiling. "Huh. Guess you're right."

"Love those words coming out of your mouth, Steve."

Steve rolled his eyes and I started going through movies. I settled on something that neither of us have seen before.

"Didn't know you were an action fan." Steve commented as he placed plate on the table in front of us.

"Yep." I shrugged, placing my plate on top of his. I relaxed, stretching my legs out until they stopped next to Steve. I grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch and threw it over me.

Without saying a word, Steve grabbed my legs and placed my feet onto his lap, adjusting the blanket so it covered both of us. I froze, but he was oblivious, his face glued to the movie as he softly rubbed his thumb along my ankle.

I tried to rationalize with myself that my reactions were normal and okay.

I haven't had any human contact since the last time he was here.

I'm rebounding.

I'm sad.

Anything but the deep rooted truth I know was there. I had feelings for Steve Rogers.

And the even sadder, unfortunate truth: that I can't do anything about it.