I had a lot to think about regarding London and Paris’ offer to come work with them, and where HP and my relationship is going. I mean we’ve been together officially for over two years, on and off for longer than that, and we own a house together. In today’s society, a mortgage is far more binding than a marriage.
HP came home late, and I was in the lounge reading a manuscript while Katie watched telly. He hovered about, sitting on the sofa to watch television, like he wanted to talk, but was too nervous to do so. Did he want to have the ‘let’s make this work’ conversation, but Katie was in the room?
I asked her several times if she needed to leave. ‘Don’t you have work in the morning?’ I said.
‘Don’t we all,’ she responded.
I texted her, ‘Go back to your flat. I think HP wants to talk to me.’
‘No. I’m watching this,’ she texted back.
Eventually HP wandered off to his boxroom/bedroom, and when ‘8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown’ was over she went back to her house.
I knocked lightly on HP’s door, but no answer. I peaked inside and he was asleep on top of his bed. I desperately wanted to climb into bed with him. Snuggle up next to him and feel his stubble against my neck. His chapped lips against my cheek. But, I didn’t. I tiptoed out and sat by his closed door for a while thinking about all my missed opportunities with him.
Then as if to make things more confusing I get a text from the Intern. All is says is ‘call me.’
Actually, I’ll need to come back and tell you that story later. I need to get off the blog because I’m typing this on my personal laptop. RobotPA is back in the office today and she has the door to the cupboard open. She keeps eying me. She’s probably wondering why I have two computers up and running on my desk.