Kim wasn't asleep, but she pretended she was. The bed was growing cold without his warm body pressed against hers. He had already been up for a while, had showered, and was now packing. Packing to go home.
She rolled onto her back and watched him. She watched as he folded each item before neatly placing it in the bag. She thought about the night before. The way he had unfolded her, discovering her darkest needs and fulfilling them. He had a way with her, an uncommon knowledge of her. More than just her body, when he made love to her, it was to her mind and her soul.
She remembered one night, standing on the balcony to his house dressed in one of his work shirts and nothing else. He was standing behind her, kissing her neck. He had complained she used fruity shampoo and smelling her hair made him hungry. She remembered that night just because she had felt so happy right at that moment. A sense of being where she belonged. And for someone who had been a gypsy her entire career, the feeling was unique and special.
She wanted to tell him she loved him. That she had never stopped loving him. And that she suspected that he never stopped loving her. But she didn't. Love was a word it took a long time for her to use, and an even longer time for him. It was too dangerous. It made things too permanent. It meant that they had responsibilities to one another. Now, with the understanding being that he was going back to Virginia, she was loathe to use it. She couldn't risk spoiling the memory of last night by saying something he was unprepared to hear.
Still, she was confident there was no one else in his life. She didn't believe that when he returned to his apartment, there would be a pretty young thing waiting for him with flowers. There wouldn't be anyone. And that was how he wanted things. He wanted no attachments, no entanglements. His work was dangerous, even by FBI standards, and he didn't want anyone to be devastated by his unavoidable funeral.
He was almost packed. Kim slid out of bed and pulled on her clothes.
"You ready?" he asked, picking up his bags. He was checking out and heading to the airport. There would be no teary goodbye, just the back of his head walking away from her.
She nodded and followed him out. She wondered what it said about a man when he cared about his job more than himself. When he protected strangers with his own life, but left the woman he loved standing alone in the middle of a hotel lobby. And what did it say about her that, no matter how many times it happened, she would fall for him all over again.
