Surrogate Lover by Clara Reese

Author:Clara Reese [Reese, Clara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-06T22:00:00+00:00

20

Charlotte

I check my watch as the meeting drones on, conscious that I need to start wrapping things up here. It’s almost 5pm and I promised Katrina I’d be finished in time for dinner. Recently home has stopped feeling so oppressive, and I find that I’m no longer spending 16 hours a day at the office in a desperate bid to avoid going back. Not to mention that I don’t want to miss any developments in the pregnancy! I smile as I think about how having Katrina around has changed things, how it’s changed me.

I’m still smiling as I pack the paperwork into my briefcase and head out of the office. It’s a sunny day, the hottest in a while, and I slip my cobalt blue blazer off my shoulders. I’m a couple of blocks from home when I decide to stop off at the grocery store and grab a couple of pints of ice cream. I know Katrina’s favorite is mint chocolate chip, and I want to surprise her tonight.

I call out when I enter the apartment and hear shuffling feet as Katrina comes to greet me. I keep telling her she doesn’t need to get up just for me, but she still insists on coming to hug me hello every evening when I get home. Addison used to do that too, but somehow it doesn’t make me sad anymore. It feels like a weight is slowly lifting from my chest, like I can maybe start to move on.

After I wash up, the two of us sit down to dinner. I make Katrina laugh with my dramatic retelling of how two of my interns locked themselves out on the balcony today and had to be rescued by the window cleaner. In return, Katrina tells me about the 7 adorable puppies she saw on her walk to the library, and how they were trying to trip up their harassed walker. As I sip my soda, I think about how easy Katrina has made it to laugh again. Just a few months ago, I didn’t even think it was possible to be happy, let alone to be sitting at my dining room table with someone, tears of laughter streaming down both of our faces.

Once dinner is finished, I make to clear the plates up while trying to insist that Katrina takes it easy in the living room. However, one thing I’ve quickly learned about that woman over the last few months is that there’s no telling her what to do. As soon as I suggest it, she’s up and pouring dish soap into the sink. I roll my eyes and start drying the plates as she passes them over. It’s nice to stand quietly side-by-side, doing something so mundane and domestic like this.

Afterwards, Katrina makes me watch a true crime documentary with her. She lies across the couch with her feet on my lap as I massage them for her. She closes her eyes and groans in pleasure and I take the opportunity to stare fondly at her.

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