6. Much later, once we have fed our tummies, I'm granted a slight amount of peace to reflect.
Max is asleep on the living room rug and I'm taking a well-deserved, steaming- hot bath. My lungs drag in the smell of vanilla, from the candles that are lit around my bath. The rain pounds against the window. Strange British weather- blistering heat in the morning, and thunderstorms in the evening.
I was proud. I stayed and spoke and let him touch me. I vowed to never run again.
And it was like he understood- like he knew how I was struggling. And he was so patient and understanding.
I truly didn't deserve such a wonderful man.
After my bath, I dressed in my pyjamas and curled up on the sofa with some mint chocolate chip. I was out of cookie dough. My little Max had woken from his slumber and was now eyeing the sofa with puppy eyes. Who am I to deny him?
I allowed him to jump up onto the sofa and lie with me for a little while. At least till I went to bed.
Since coming home with me, Max has had trouble sleeping at night. He would often wake me with his whimpering. When he first came home, his bed was placed in the living room, but had since moved into the left corner of my bedroom. He stayed in his bed (I feared that I would wake with him in my bed) and the whimpering stopped.
My poor insecure little Max. And tonight, I myself was feeling very insecure as well. What a pair we made.
I just hoped that I would get given another chance to see Edward.