Page 31 of Diamonds

She sits up quickly.“Damn it.I’m not sure.”She looks around the room.“My phone.Where’s my phone?”

“Probably still in your purse,” I say.“I think you left it in the kitchen when we returned last night.”

“Right.”She rubs at her forehead.“Oh, no.Last night.Lastnight.”

“It’s okay, baby.”I rub her shoulders.“We made it to morning.Everything is going to be taken care of.”

“I need my phone.”

“I’ll grab it.”I walk into her living room, spy her purse on the loveseat, and grab her phone.I walk back into her bedroom and hand it to her.

She pulls up her calendar app and scans it.“Oh, thank God,” she sighs.“I’m not on until two thirty today.”

“Great.”I smile at her.“Would you like me to make you some breakfast?”

She frowns.“All I have in the fridge are eggs and bacon.And a few veggies.Red onion, bell peppers, tomatoes.”

“Omelets it is then,” I say.“You can stay in bed.I’ll take care of everything.”

She rubs at her stomach.“I’m not sure if I have an appetite after last night.”She bites her lip.“I mean, the park.What we did after was wonderful.”

“I know what you meant.”I cross toward her bedroom doorway.“But you need to eat.We both need to.I’m not particularly hungry either, but we need energy if we’re going to get through whatever the next couple of days brings.”

She nods.“Okay.You’re right.”

“Plus it’ll do us both some good to do something normal.It’s not like we can do a whole hell of a lot until we have May’s identity confirmed by Bill’s lab, anyway.”

She rubs at the back of her neck.“Make sense, I guess.”

I walk back into her kitchen.It’s nice.Her apartment is clearly a remodel.All stainless-steel appliances, polished to a shine.A large ceramic jar holds a set of pastel-colored cooking utensils.

I open her fridge.A half-dozen eggs, a new package of bacon, and a tomato and red bell pepper.I spy the red onion next to salt and pepper grinders on top of her fridge.I also grab a quart of whole milk from the fridge-door shelf.

I find a wooden cutting board in one of her lower cabinets and a vegetable knife in a block next to her stove.I dice the vegetables and lay a few strips of bacon across a skillet.Once the veggies are done, I take four of the eggs and whisk them together with salt, pepper, and a dash of the milk.Once the bacon is done, I pour half of the egg mixture in the skillet, right over the bacon grease.I sprinkle some of the diced veggies over the omelet and then drag the sides inward with the spatula until the entire thing is cooked through, and I gently fold it in half.I repeat the steps for a second omelet, cut the cooled bacon into bits, and sprinkle them over the food.

I walk back into Alissa’s room, presenting her breakfast with mock decorum.“Make way for the omelet!”

She frowns.“How can you joke around after what we’ve been through?”

“I think the only thing wecando is joke around.”I hand her the plate along with a fork.“We can either worry while we wait for news from Bill, or we can enjoy each other’s company to the best of our ability.”

She wrinkles her nose.“But it doesn’t seem right.We should find some way to honor May.”

“We’re doing what we can to see that Rouge—or whoever killed her—is brought to justice.That’s how we honor her.”I sit on the side of the bed and rub her shoulder.“But that doesn’t mean we can’t still enjoy the little things.We can liveforMay, for her memory.”

She takes a forkful of the omelet and brings it to her mouth.She chews slowly and closes her eyes.“This is delicious.”

“Thanks.The secret is a dash of milk.”I return to the kitchen, grab my plate, and return.I lie back next to Alissa and we eat our breakfast in silence.

And it’s nice.It’s normal.

Breakfast in bed with the woman I love.

Alissa finishes her last bite and plunks her fork back down on her ceramic plate.“Last night, with the cop.He recognized your name when you pulled out your license.Why?”

I close my eyes and run my hands through my hair.I put my half-finished omelet on the nightstand.“I’m sorry I was short with you last night about that.”

“We were both stressed.God knows anyone would have been a little persnickety.”She grabs my hand and rubs her thumb over my wrist.“But please tell me.I feel like this thing we have—it could be real.And if it does get to that place, is there something I should know?”