Free Tiger Lily: Part Three by Amélie S. Duncan

both good and bad. But here was my lover, ready to create a new one with me.
    My lip quivered. “I can’t read it…yet.”
    He kissed me tenderly. “I’ll read first. When you’re ready, you will.”
    Jonas opened the drawer again and took out his glasses. Then he opened his arms for me to fill them. I did, resting my head on his chest.
    “All children, except one, grow up…” he read.

 
     
    I STOOD OUTSIDE ON the sidewalk with Jonas the next morning, trying to convince him to return inside the loft. A light mist of rain fell down from the clouded sky above our heads, a less-than-veiled threat to open up and pour down on us at any given minute, something I had pointed out to Jonas before he sought to see me off for my therapy appointment this morning. Jonas, unruffled and with steady hands, busied himself instead with securing a scarf around my neck. Dressed in only a designer suit, crisp white shirt, and silk tie, he would fare worse from the rain than my simple button-down shirt and jeans would.
    “The session is only forty minutes. Please go back inside,” I said, renewing my argument after a loud clap of thunder.
    He continued to fuss with my scarf. “If I get rained on, I’ll change. My first meeting is… here soon. I wanted to see you off. I know therapy can be difficult.”
    My hands reached up and grasped his and we stared at each other. I was rendered speechless in this moment. So overwhelmed by the feelings I had for this incredible man. His deep voice gliding over the passages of Peter Pan last night, pausing to wipe every tear that dropped from my eyes, easing the knot of pain I had attached to the work that brought me such joy and love growing up. With every page a memory came; good memories.
    Jonas and the last few nights would forever be good memories. His concern and care had completely undone me, and I doubted I’d ever recover from the attachment he had orchestrated between us to instill in my mind and heart that I belonged to him. And now this morning, before his workday started, he was trying to ease my worries.
    The thought of his work disruption had me trying to assure him once again that he didn’t need to fuss over me. My mind worked to counter the thrill I had in basking in his care, fearful of indeed being the spoiled princess Declan had labeled me.
    “I’ll be fine. I’m going to try. And maybe it will help me,” I said, giving him a wide smile I pushed all the way to my eyes.
    “We’ll need to leave to avoid morning rush hour,” David said, opening an umbrella and holding it over us.
    Jonas eyed me, then pressed his lips to my forehead. This action signaled David to open the door to his car, and I climbed in, with Jonas immediately seeking to belt me in place. “I will try for lunch, but if anything changes I’ll text you. Perhaps we can go out to dinner this evening. And we should hear back from your doctor with your test results today.”
    I nodded and he pecked my lips before closing the door. David quickly moved to the driver’s seat and started the car. My heart stuttered as I watched Jonas standing with the umbrella as David pulled away from the curb. He remained there until I couldn’t see him any longer. I chewed my bottom lip, took my phone out, and sent a quick text.
    You better go back inside!
    After a few minutes he replied.
    Better? You ordering me around?
    I grinned and suspected he was doing the same.
    If it keeps you from getting wet… I typed and pressed send.
    Are you wet?
    I licked my lips and moved my thighs against each other.
    You should know. You checked before we left the loft :-)
    He responded.
    Then your answer should have been yes.
    I sent back.
    Yes.
    The car felt suddenly too warm. I eased my arms out of my jacket. Staring out of the window, I shook my head. A new text message arrived from Jonas.
    Have you seen my glasses?
    I wrote back.
    You left your Clark Kent glasses on the bedside table.
    He replied.
    I’m Clark Kent?
    I laughed to