HANNAH
I am woken by a chill running through my entire body. Shivering, I curl up on the mattress. I drowsily open my eyes, and as soon as I see the empty space next to me, my throat tightens. I’m alone in my old bed, at Gran’s place. Jamie’s not with me to keep me warm, and since I’ve kicked the cover off in my sleep, now I’m reaching for it with a stiff neck to pull it over myself again. I turn on my back, and staring at the ceiling, I try to recall what day it is. Wednesday. This means, there are only three more lonely nights to go, and we’ll be together again – I’m thinking, to encourage myself. But then frustration gets the better of me. Oh, no! Three more long, lonely, sleepless nights, until we meet again. I clutch the corner of the cover and pull it over my head with a sigh. Just then, something cool hits against my forehead, and this pulls me out of the feeling of melancholy. It’s the stone of my wedding ring. The ring Jamie had carried in his trouser pocket for weeks, before he thought the moment right to pull it on my finger. The cold shivers are immediately replaced by waves of warmth running down my spine as I recall the unconventional, but all the more passionate manner of our engagement. No doubt, Jamie has his own, unique way in everything he does. These are typical Jamie stuff I have grown addicted to in recent times, whose lack is torturing me now like crazy. And I don’t just mean sensual things, although… the truth is, this special guy has opened the gates of such an exciting and erotic world before my eyes which used to be totally unknown to me. His love for me, the lustful, sensual energy that emanates from him when we are together, has liberated me and made me a real woman. But there are also those adorable faults of his which used to confuse and bother me, however now, I have managed to appreciate, even love them. It’s adorable the way he places the spoon beside the cup with a thousandth millimetre’s accuracy, and always at the same angle when he makes our coffee every morning. The way he avoids wearing vivid colours, and only puts on monotone clothes, preferably black, or at least something dark. And even this adds to his charms, as I swear, there’s no man in the universe hotter than Jamie Hailey in a black suit. Or when, regardless of previous therapies, he always misunderstands other people’s ironic or funny comments, and informs Mandy with an educational tone in the shop that the computer’s wire is actually called a power cable, which is a copper-based transfer medium consisting of four pairs, with all of its eight copper cables surrounded by insulation. Such remarks are usually followed by an astonished silence, and people stare at my sweet weirdo as if he had come from Mars – which causes me to transform into an amazon, feeling like I have to protect him from their prejudices. By the time Jamie realizes that he has messed up again and mumbles an embarrassed apology, it’s too late, because these remarks burst out of him from time to time totally uncontrolled. Yet, I love him even for this. I don’t know if I’m right, but I feel privileged because, while this hyper-intelligent, hot guy refrains from other people’s touch, he becomes a passionate lover as soon as we are alone, and he’s unable to take his hands off me, no matter where we are. I don’t know why, but this is the truth. He wants me, he is devoted to me, and he needs me. He says that I’m the centre of his universe, and who wouldn’t feel special being loved like this?
With a smile, I plant a kiss on my ring, and kick off the cover. Come on, Hannah, pull yourself together. Enough of this daydreaming! Your husband will be home soon, your gran needs you, and there’s work piled up at the shop.
I’ve never been the type whose eyes just pop open in the morning, and gets out of bed being able to function at a hundred percent. I need my coffee, and a little later a second one, and a lukewarm shower to fully wake me up. Or else, I need Jamie, who has his own, naughtily erotic ways to get sleep out of my system super quickly. Since the second option is completely off the table this morning, I sit up on the edge of the bed with a sigh, stretch, and my eyes fall on my mobile. I unlock it, and the first thing I see is a text from him. He is thinking about and misses me, and he informs me about this fact about six times a day, in writing. Yes, exactly six times a day. With a deadly accuracy, every four hours. The man would drive me crazy if I didn’t adore him so much. But before my thoughts would wander off too far – and well, my thoughts are stubbornly wandering under the folds of Jamie’s elegant black suit and his grey shirt – another text arrives, this time from Bree.
“Honey, cut out the morning musings about your sexy hubby, and get going, because our Fashion Week meeting has been shifted to 10am. Pick you up at Bond Street half 9, xoxo B”
I pull an involuntary smile. Am I so predictable, or is Bree able to read my mind? Whatever it is, her message sobers me up. I glance at the clock and see that I have to pull myself together if I don’t want to be late…
