More Than a Hotline Fling

-42-

Juneau's POV

Damian returned to work a week after Vaugh and Adam's romantic wedding.

I envied the newlywed couple. They gazed at each other with pure love radiating out of their eyes. Their hands held each other close, lips met in countless kisses, and they got lost in each other for moments, stealing each other's breath. Freshly fucked in a supply closet as I suspected, they glowed the entire evening. I was truly happy for both.

Adam and Vaughn's Italian honeymoon pictures, however... I could've lived the same level of content in my life without seeing their pictures from Oasi Naturista.

Leave it to those two to find one of the few nude beaches in all of Italy.

Naked or not, a vacation getaway pulled a few threads of jealousy in me. I also envied Damian for being ready to go back to work.

The number of positive days I experienced, which in my current definition meant anxiety-free, started to equal the number of days where I either wanted to lock myself away in the bathroom and cry under the shower or flee the city entirely. Busying myself in the rental apartment didn't take much effort. Bullet only needed two, twenty-minute walks, but we explored the Upper West side's quieter charm.

I also knitted so many damn scarfs that I had enough for my own Hogwarts house. I donated thirty-eight of them to a local women's shelter, where the kind woman must have seen the insistence in my eyes because she took all of them... in the beginning of June.

Numbness took over the tips of my fingers from how tight I pressed them together, hooking together my first baby blanket attempt. The loose, uneven stitches looked like a cat had clawed the squares to its content.

Maybe I'll turn it into a bike cover for Damian.

Suddenly, my nearby phone buzzed, so I grabbed it to see a text from Dr. Harris.

Dr. H: No pressure but we miss you.

A shaky sigh passed through my pursed lips, which lifted Bullet's head off his paws. He leaned back and offered a whine, so I leaned down and stroked his head between his ears. With an exhale, he flopped back down and extended his front paws over my right foot.

Glancing back at my phone, my fingers attempted a few responses. None of them were right. I wanted to go back to work. I wanted to be sucked into the rush of animal needs and surgeries so that I left each workday tired, smelly, covered with questionable substances, and stuffed with fulfillment.

But I'm not there yet.

I slumped my shoulders. Sharp thumps of my heart pounded my chest, behind the constriction that pressed down my sternum. Another buzz of my phone drew my eyes to the screen.

Damian: One day in and I'd rather be at home with you.
Damian: Shirley's been napping in my office.

A smile twitched up the corners of my lips. I released a slow air leak of tension seeped from my body. This message I had an answer for.

Me: Maybe I'll show you how much I miss you when you get here. 😉

Three dots appeared and disappeared a few times before he responded.

Damian: How are you?

Loaded question.

Sighing, I tipped my head back until it rested on the back of the sofa.

Physically, I was fine. All my parts were in working order, my bruises nonexistent, and my stomach aches subsided. I hadn't regained all the weight I lost but my clothes didn't fall off me anymore.