Say Less I Love You Episode 2

Chapter 20

Jacob

I wake up, my thoughts flooded with Nyla. She has this habit of being on consistent loop in my head, and I must say I’m not mad about that at all. I decide that I need to do something to up the anty, let her know that she’s not just some ordinary woman.

I remember Nyla's eyes lighting up when she and her father talked about her favorite barbecue joint from Staten Island. I decide to surprise her, not just with a meal, but with a whole damn feast.

When I finally make it back to the penthouse, I find her sitting on the couch, engrossed in a medical journal. "Hey," I call out, carrying in a massive bag of takeout. The scent of smoked meat and tangy sauce fills the air.

She looks up, curiosity piqued. "What’s all that?"

“Remember that barbecue place you mentioned last week?” I set the bag on the dining table, pulling out container after container. “I got everything on the menu.”

Her eyes widen. “You went all the way to Staten Island?”

“Figured we could use a little feast.”

Nyla stands, a genuine smile spreading across her face. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“Stick around. You might see a few more.” I start opening containers, the aroma making my mouth water. “Ribs, brisket, pulled pork... you name it, it’s here.”

She reaches for a rib, her fingers brushing against mine. “I can’t believe you did this.”

“Believe it, sweetheart. Dig in.”

"Do you wanna watch a movie while we eat?" Nyla asks, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Yeah. I’ll be there as soon as I make up my mind. What do you recommend I try first?” I ask, grinning as I grab a couple of plates. 

"Hmm, that's a tough one, everything is delicious," she says with a satisfied moan as she takes a deep inhale of the four hundred dollars worth of take out food on the counter. "But I would go with the beef brisket, oooh and definitely the baked beans."

“Roger that. What are we watching?” I respond as I shovel baked beans on my plate.

She moves to the TV, flipping through the options. “How about something light? Maybe a comedy?”

“Sounds good to me,” I say, plopping down on the couch with a beer. “I could use a laugh.”

Nyla selects a movie and joins me, opening a bottle of wine. “Here’s to good food and... interesting arrangements,” she toasts, her voice teasing.

“To interesting arrangements,” I echo, clinking my beer bottle against her wine glass.

We dig into the feast, and the first bite of brisket is heavenly. “Damn, this is good,” I mumble around a mouthful of meat. “You weren’t kidding about this place.”

“Told you,” she replies, eyes twinkling with amusement. “They have the best barbecue in New York.”

We finish our spread in what seems like record time. Both of us stuffed to the point of being miserable.

Nyla gets up and fetches a blanket and snuggles up against me, her body immediately comforting. "You’re warm," she murmurs, settling in.

I wrap my arm around her without a second thought, feeling an unexpected sense of contentment. "Good to know I’m useful for something," I tease, my voice low.

She chuckles softly, her breath tickling my neck. "Don’t sell yourself short. You did go all the way to Staten Island for barbecue."

"True. I should get a medal for that," I reply, my fingers gently tracing circles on her shoulder.

"Or at least a trophy," she adds, her tone light.

We fall into a comfortable silence, the sounds of the movie mingling with our steady breathing. The weight of her against me is grounding, a reminder that sometimes, the simplest moments are the most profound.

The room grows quieter, the movie’s dialogue fading into the background. I can feel the steady rise and fall of Nyla’s breathing, and before I know it, my own eyelids grow heavy. The world around us blurs, and the last thing I remember is the comforting weight of her head on my shoulder as I drift off.

I wake up to the sound of the movie’s end credits rolling. The screen casts a soft glow over the room, highlighting the serene expression on Nyla’s face. She’s fallen asleep against me, her head nestled into the crook of my shoulder, completely vulnerable and trusting. For a moment, I just hold her, feeling the gentle rise and fall of her breathing against my chest. Her scent, a mix of lavender and something uniquely her, fills my senses.

Carefully, I shift to get a better look at her. She stirs slightly but doesn’t wake. I brush a strand of hair from her face, my fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary. The softness of her skin under my touch sends a wave of warmth through me.

"Damn," I whisper to myself, "I haven’t felt this happy in... well, forever."

I hold her a bit tighter, feeling the warmth of her body seep into mine. But then reality slams into me like a cold wave. This is a business transaction. One that will end. My grip loosens slightly, the weight of regret settling in.

Nyla stirs, her eyes fluttering open. "Hey, you’re still awake?" she murmurs, her voice thick with sleep.

"Yeah," I reply, trying to keep my tone light. "Just thinking."

"About what?" She props herself up, her eyes searching mine.

I force a chuckle. "About how I’ve never seen anyone fall asleep during a comedy before."

She rolls her eyes, but there's a smile playing on her lips. "You’re an ass."

I shrug. "It’s part of my charm."

She settles back down, her head on my shoulder. "You know, you’re not as bad as I thought you’d be."

"High praise coming from you," I say, my voice tinged with sarcasm. But inside, her words twist something deep within me.

She shifts, looking up at me. "Seriously, Jacob. Why do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Act like you don’t care."

I take a deep breath, unsure how to answer. The truth is, I do care. About her. More than I should. "Maybe because it’s easier than admitting I do."

Her eyes soften, and for a moment, I think she might say something profound. But she just sighs and closes her eyes again. "Well, you should work on that."

I chuckle, though it feels hollow. "I’ll add it to my to-do list."

We fall into silence again, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us. I wish I could have taken the time to truly know her. To understand what makes her laugh, what makes her cry. But instead, I’ve treated this like another business deal. Another transaction.

Nyla’s breathing evens out, and I know she’s fallen back asleep. I watch her for a moment longer, my heart heavy with regret. This arrangement will end, and she’ll walk away, just like everything else.

But for now, I hold her close, wishing things could be different. Wishing I had more time. Wishing I could tell her that somewhere along the line, I’m falling in love with her. But I can’t. Not yet. So I close my eyes and let sleep take me, hoping that when I wake up, this moment won’t feel like a dream.