It was the first Sunday of the new year, and so far I'd been proud of myself. I was checking things off my to-do list, easing into the idea of becoming more intentional. What wasn't on my list was getting sick. Since Friday, I'd been feeling under the weather. Today, I couldn't pull myself out of bed. I stared at a pile of clean clothes for almost fifteen minutes. It stared back at me, unbothered. My phone buzzed somewhere near me. I didn't have the strength to lift my head, so I slid my hand across the bed, hoping to feel it. When I finally found it, I saw two missed calls from Russel. I called him back. "Hey, is everything okay? I haven't heard from you," he said the moment he answered the phone. "Yes," I responded, my voice weakened. "I'm just extremely sick." "Okay, say less. I'll be over in a few," he said, with urgency wrapped in every word. I barely managed a faint "okay" before the call ended. Immediately, my mind spiraled. Brush your teeth. Clean the room. Take a shower. At least put on a little makeup- just enough to look presentable. A million thoughts, none of them realistic. I didn't have the energy to do any of it. About twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. In my mind, I answered it effortlessly. In reality, I was still curled up in bed. I forced myself to stand, my body was damped with sweat as I shuffled towards the door. embarrassment settled in before I even turned the doorknob. When I opened it, Russel wasn't empty handed. "Damn, baby... you look like shit," he said half joking, half concerned. "Let's get you cleaned up." He sat me on the couch and moved through my apartment like he's done this before. Gathering my things, opening drawers, making decisions on my behalf. As he ran my bathwater, my mind got stuck on his words. DAMN,BABY... Did that mean something? Did it mean more? I stopped trying to process it. When I reached the bathroom, he had not only ran me a bath but a bubble bath. He even dropped in one of my lavender bath bombs. I shivered as I eased into the tub, warmth and calm wrapping around me instantly. For the first ten minutes, I just laid there, silent. As I washed up, I could hear Russel rummaging through my kitchen with pots and pans clicking together. When I finished, I dried off and found a cozy pajama set laid neatly on the counter. That bath changed everything. I brushed my teeth. Did my five-minute makeup. Slicked my hair into a high ponytail. I felt human again. The scent of chicken and garlic filled the air. My nose was still stuffy, but it slowly cleared as he handed me a steaming peppermint mocha latte. "Keep warm with this while I finish your soup," he said with calm and authority in his tone. I sat on the couch, hands wrapped around my mug, watching him make soup from scratch. Impressed. I was sick-but it didn't dull my feelings. In that moment, everything felt perfect. He felt perfect. And like clockwork, my thoughts pulled me back. I remembered the complications that came with wanting him. The things that I knew battled the things I was seeing. Russel took my coffee and replaced it with a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup- loaded with onions, celery, corn, and crackers. Every bite was comforting. "How are you feeling?" he asked, reaching down to massage my feet. Everything inside of me felt settled, but I answered carefully. "I'm feeling a lot better. Thank you for all of this." What I wanted to say was no man has ever taken care of me like this. Instead, I chose to say less. We talked for hours about our goals for the new year. Dreams. Intentions. Possibilities. Then he asked the question that made my chest tighten. " Can we do more of this?" I couldn't tell who was more complicated- him or me. I didn't know if this was something that would last based on the past. But in that moment, wrapped in warmth and care, I answered honestly... or maybe conveniently. "Yes," I said softly. "I would like that." For the rest of the day, we said less. We laid there. He kissed my forehead. We cuddled. We binged a new Netflix show. And for now, that was enough. 

                                                                  To be continued...