The New York Project

11. A wobbly fall

A few weeks later

The outside temperatures were freakishly low for Thanksgiving week.

They were lying on her bed, with the curtains of the alcove closed, her head on the top of his chest, a thick blanket on their naked bodies.

Their orgasms had left them speechless and a tad breathless for a short while; the sounds of the city were fully entering the room.

"I'm so glad not to have gotten into Harvard or Yale," he noted out of the blue, a hand running through her long hair.

"Oh, cool, I take it that you like Columbia and your classes then."

"No, I like you. Well, I like college enough, but I mostly like you. If I had moved to Boston or New Haven, I would be apart from you."

She remained silent for some interminable seconds.

You've gone too far, Rob.

She eventually cackled awkwardly before cleverly-yet-not-really changing the subject.

"Well, if you had gone to Yale and moved to New Haven, you would have been apart from a lot of things, that's for sure."

He chuckled casually.

It was too late, though.

He had caught the reason for her hesitation: he had said too much.

Again.

She wasn't ready to hear that stupid declaration, she had made it abundantly clear the last time; he couldn't prevent the stupid words from coming out of his stupid mouth.

They didn't talk much more after that, and he tried to fall asleep by telling himself that everything was fine.

Yet the young man had trouble pretending.

What if she bailed again?

He couldn't stand it. He had to act more carefully, even if it was slowly killing him.

He wanted to scream his love for her to the whole world.

She will be ready one day.

Or will she?

He had to believe it anyway.

**********

Thanksgiving.

What nonsense for Victoria's British self. Have all Americans forgotten where this day comes from?

To please Henry, she played along nonetheless. She arrived at the townhouse in the morning, and Charlotte, Robbie and she helped the maid to prepare a stuffed turkey, some mashed potatoes and vegetables, along with the gravy and cranberry sauce.

Just before eating all this, she went to freshen up in the guest bathroom. When she got out, she noticed him waiting for her on the landing. She was about to ask him what he was doing but he joined her in a couple of steps, gently pushed her back in the bathroom and kissed her, one hand on the bottom of her back and the other one in her hair done in a half-ponytail. She began to kiss him back, her arms around his neck, and soon remembered where they were.

"Wait, Rob, what do you think you're doing?" she inquired, her voice barely above a whisper, her hands on his chest to keep him away from her weak lips that were longing for his kisses too.

"I'm sorry, Vee, I can't help it, you're so beautiful."

For a moment or two, before letting go of her, he placed his face on the crook of her neck and took a quick sniff at her perfume.