The smog-infused city light seeping through the window meant Margaret's sleep was about to end. She was habitually curled up in fetal position on the edge of the bed, Andrew's bed. Oh right, she was in Andrew's bed. She rolled over to look at him, trying to loosen up her muscles that were somehow tense even in her sleep. Andrew was breathing heavily, still in a deep sleep. Typical, she chuckled to herself. He was never really a morning person. He tried his best to look neat but she could always tell he woke up minutes before grabbing her morning coffee; his tie was usually crooked despite her constantly telling him to fix it each morning. He looks so peaceful, she thought. His arm was sprawled out towards her, almost as if he had been reaching for her in his sleep. After a minute of debating, Margaret tentatively scooted towards him, settling her head on his shoulder and resting her hand lightly on his abdomen. This caused him to stir a bit, instinctively trying to get closer to her. Then, she felt him against her leg. Shit, she remembered, it's morning.
Andrew, still half asleep, felt Margaret snuggle up next to him. He was disoriented at first until the events from yesterday came flooding back to him: kissing in the office, telling her he loved her, Margaret saying it back, her lips, her soft brown eyes, everything. When he turned to wrap his arm around her he felt all of her muscles tighten. What could it possibly be this time? Shit, he remembered. It's morning.
Margaret got out of bed and shut the bathroom door behind her before Andrew could protest. After she was done making herself look as presentable as possible with what little makeup and hygiene products she had in her purse, she changed into her clothes from the night before and waited nervously for Andrew to get out of bed. After an hour of waiting, she resorted to waking him up. Margaret sat gingerly on the edge of his bed and tentatively stroked his hair. Andrew slowly began to stir. Finally, she thought. Margaret needed to be alone with her thoughts before another evening presumably with Andrew.
Although he was still groggy, Andrew suddenly pulled Margaret on top of him, giving her an almost brotherly bear hug.
"Andrew! Jesus!" She shrieked.
She didn't know whether she found his sudden ease with physical closeness annoying or charming. Much to her disappointment, she felt the latter.
"Good morning, baby." He said in a mocking but flirtatious tone.
Margaret made an overly animated cringing expression, but she was secretly thrilled with the new nickname.
"I have an idea."
Oh no, Margaret thought. Of course he had an idea. He was full of crazy ideas, like falling in love with her and willingly embarking on a relationship with his boss. What could this possibly be?
"I want to take you on a date, a real date. I'll pick you up from your place at 7, and I'll take you to a nice restaurant. I may or may not bring you chocolates, because I know you hate flowers." He smirked.
"That sounds… very romantic." She said.
Margaret was in her own world, already worrying about what they would talk about for a whole dinner, and what she would wear, and if she would do something awkward, and if he would kiss her afterwards, and if she would sleepover again… Andrew could see that her mind was reeling.
"Try not to stress about it, Margaret." He tried to reassure her. "I think sometimes you forget that I've known you for three years. I fell in love with you because I know you so well, and all of your quirks and fears don't scare me. I promise."
Margaret felt that all-too-familiar lump in her throat at this statement. It was just what she needed to hear, even though she wasn't sure if she believed him. But how could she not? She could see the sincerity in his eyes. He really did love her, even if she couldn't come to terms with it yet.
Margaret didn't know what to say. She silenced her usual blubbering by resting her head on his chest, and he held her tighter. They were in this together.
Margaret had spent the last two hours getting ready, and she still wasn't done. She had taken a much needed shower and blowdried her hair to tame her frizz. She could tell Andrew preferred her natural waves to her serious ponytail, so she let her hair down. She tried keeping her makeup light, making her skin glowy and applying minimal eyeliner. She just couldn't decide what to wear. She had a fancier dress she had been saving for a work party later in the year, and although she knew she looked great in it, it was meant for a corporate occasion and maybe not date appropriate. She had some casual sundresses that she hadn't worn for ages, but Andrew had made it clear that they were going to a fancy place. He would be here soon; she had no time to buy something. Fuck, what am I going to do. She thought for the millionth time that day. Then, she noticed something in the back of her closet, a glimpse of violet hidden by all her structured blazers and bland pencil skirts. It was a dress she had bought for her 30th birthday. She had toyed with the idea of throwing herself a party and being social for once, catching up with old friends and just trying to enjoy herself, and she thought buying a dress would force her to actually plan the occasion. Not surprisingly, work and her own social anxiety had gotten in the way, and the dress had been sitting in her closet ever since. It was a gorgeous dress. It was a deep violet that brought out the mahogany in her eyes, with a plunging neckline enhanced by layers of sheer fabric that accentuated her tiny bust. It hugged her hips in just the right way, and it barely grazed the top of her knee. It was perfect.
Andrew arrived at 7 pm sharp. He buzzed her apartment while Margaret tried to act like she hadn't been anxiously pacing for the past hour. She met him outside, fumbling with the heavy door before turning towards him.
Andrew couldn't help but stare. She was breathtaking. He loved her natural hair. Her waves perfectly framed her face, softening her high cheekbones and sharp jawline, making the sweetness he knew was inside of her shine through. Her dress accentuated her curves in all the right ways and lengthened her toned legs, making her look undeniably sexy.
Margaret stole a glance at him from beneath her thick eyelashes. He was wearing a simple gray suit, but instead of his usual tie that he wore at work, his crisp white shirt was unbuttoned just enough to see a glimpse of chest hair. Margaret couldn't help but imagine unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way.
"Hi" was all Margaret could say. She was still recovering from the sight of him.
Andrew grabbed her hand firmly, leading her towards whatever mystery place they were going.
"You look absolutely beautiful." He said earnestly.
"You're don't look so bad yourself." Margaret replied.
They continued to chat on their way to the restaurant. At first it felt forced and awkward, both of them preoccupied with their pent up anxiety about their first date. But the conversation quickly became natural. Andrew asked Margaret about their surroundings as they went, with Margaret volunteering anecdotes about her favorite places to shop, the neighborhood cat, and even her favorite trees and flowers as they passed them. The familiar companionship that made them fall in love in Alaska was returning, and they were both beginning to feel at home in their relationship.
The playful banter continued during their meal. At one point, Margaret made a dry remark about Andrew always showing up disheveled for work in the mornings, and they embarked on a fit of side-splitting laughter that rendered them both speechless.
"I never knew you were this funny." Andrew remarked between laughs.
"There's a lot you don't know about me." Margaret said slyly.
I'm doing it! She thought. I'm flirting! This isn't so hard. She almost forgot the nervousness that had been plaguing her for the past week.
Their laughter subsided, and they sat across from each other, feeling like the only two people in the world, enjoying a silent moment of companionship. Andrew had requested to be in a small, separate room in the back of the restaurant. The only thing they could hear was a slow song playing softly in the background,
"...When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
Oh, I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love"
"Do you want to dance?" Andrew said softly.
There was a hint of vulnerability in his voice, like he knew whatever she said would touch something private and protected inside of his heart, something once only belonging to him that was now being given to this woman he loved so dearly. It felt like his love for her was so big, so full, that sometimes it was too much to handle, for both of them.
"I… I don't." Margaret stuttered. "I don't know if that's such a good idea." She said as she lowered her head anxiously.
Andrew's shoulders dropped a little at her response. She felt as if she had let him down somehow. He's probably scared of rejection, she thought. Afterall, she had left him at the altar in front of his entire family, and even before that, he was constantly walking on eggshells around her at work, afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. Of course, she hadn't made it any easier for him, but it seemed like Andrew had a part of him that was so worn down from his father's disappointment, and her constant criticism of him, and now her constant rejection of him. She could tell she was breaking him, and it broke her.
"I just… I don't know how to dance." She backtracked.
It was the truth. She had never gone to school dances, and how else would she have learned?
"Will you teach me?" She said with a hint of encouragement.
She could feel Andrew crawling back inside his shell after her initial declination. She needed him to come back to her. She needed him.
Andrew silently got up and offered her his hand. She took it firmly, trying to tell him that she wanted him, needed him, even if she was scared. Andrew gripped her hand in return and led her to the small space beside their table. He placed her other hand on his shoulder and gripped her waist, pulling her close to him.
"...I know you haven't made your mind up yet
But I will never do you wrong
I've known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong"
They swayed slowly, just trying to take in the feeling of each other, both not daring to look in the other's eyes. Margaret immediately relaxed in his arms. Dancing's not so hard, she thought. She let him direct her movements, guiding her body to sway with his as they listened to the song.
"I always loved this song." She rose up to whisper to him.
"I remember my parents would put it on our record player while they were cooking. Some of my fondest childhood memories have this song playing in the background."
This was probably the most personal detail she'd ever told him, besides their first night in Alaska when she revealed her hiatus from sex and addiction to the psychic network. She wasn't even nervous about telling him. She knew Andrew would want to hear it, and she finally trusted herself enough to be vulnerable with him.
Andrew knew this was monumental for her, to tell him something so personal. He felt like her words went right to his heart, to a place where no one has ever touched, and would stay there forever.
"I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
There's nothing that I wouldn't do
Go to the ends of this Earth for you
To make you feel my love"
He put his hand on the back of her neck, gently drawing her head to his chest as they continued to sway. She hugged him tighter, letting him know she she was there for him, too, giving him all the love pent up in her heart from years of loneliness. Something was happening. The stars were aligning. They could both feel it.