Chapter 28: Sleepless Spectator

James and I finally have a weekend together!

I woke up before he did. For a few minutes, I just looked at him as he slept. He looked so peaceful. So calm. As if he hadn’t been stressed out of his mind lately. He must have sensed my eyes on him and woke up. He rubbed his nose before turning on his side so that he could face me.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he murmured. His voice was husky with sleep. He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead.

I smiled sleepily, nuzzling closer to him. Having him next to me just felt right.

“Morning,” I replied softly.

We lay there for a moment, basking in the quiet intimacy. The soft sound of our breathing was the only sound in the room. I loved moments like these when the world seemed to stand still.

Sometimes it was nice to let my mind go blank.

With a contented sigh, James buried his face in the crook of my neck. His breath was warm against my skin as he peppered me with gentle kisses. I giggled, squirming under his touch as his playful affection brought a smile to my lips.

“Come on, lazybones,” James teased, his voice laced with laughter as he gently tugged at the covers. “We've got a whole day ahead of us.”

Reluctantly, I untangled myself from his embrace, stretching out lazily as I blinked away the remnants of sleep.

“But it’s Saturday,” I protested, a playful pout forming on my lips as I gazed up at him.

James grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he leaned in to press a lingering kiss to my lips. “Exactly,” he replied. “And that means we have all the time in the world to spend together.”

I had no doubt that we were going to take full advantage of the weekend.

“Did you get the tickets for tonight’s show?” I asked. We weren’t able to watch it last time… but this weekend we would make up for that.

“Les Misérables? Yeah, I’ve got the digital tickets on my phone,” James replied. He reached out and trailed his fingers down my arm. “I don’t know much about it. But you should tell me. It’s clear that you’re very passionate about it.”

I couldn’t contain my enthusiasm as I launched into an animated explanation of the play’s rich history and timeless themes.

“Well, you see, Les Misérables is based on the novel by Victor Hugo. It was published back in 1862. The story is all about 19th-century France. It dives into different people. Like, uhm, Jean Valjean. He is a former convict who is trying to make up for his past. And Inspector Javert, who wants to bring him to justice.”

James listened. All the while his fingers traced up and down my arm. I got goosebumps.

“Oh cool,” he remarked. I could tell he was only interested in it because I was interested in it. “But what’s the deal with all the singing? Is it like an opera or something?”

I smiled at his question, telling him more about the play.

“Les Misérables is an amazing musical. You know, it’s famous for its incredible songs and tear-jerking performances. The music was put together by Claude-Michel Schönberg, and the lyrics were by Alain Boublil and Jean-Marc Natel. And let me tell you, it’s got some unforgettable tunes like ‘I Dreamed a Dream’ and ‘One Day More’—they’ve basically become classics at this point.”

“Sounds pretty intense,” he remarked, “I look forward to seeing it.”

A smile spread across my face at his words. I was touched by his willingness to indulge my passion for the arts.

“Thanks, James,” I said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I promise you won’t regret it. Les Misérables is a truly unforgettable experience, and I can’t wait to share it with you.”

He kissed me, before climbing out of bed and yanking the covers off me.

“Nooooo!” I laughed.

“Come on! We can spend our weekend sleeping,” James decided.

“Okay, okay,” I relented and got out of bed.

I walked to the kitchen to prepare our breakfast while James tended to the coffee maker. The comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the scent of sizzling bacon and eggs cooking on the stove.

We ate together. The egg yolk was runny, the bacon crispy, and the coffee hot. Life was good.

I only drank one cup of coffee but noticed James overindulging.

He drank one.

Then another.

Then another.

And another.

“Four cups today?” I chuckled.

He grinned sheepishly, lifting the mug to his lips.

“I like coffee,” he admitted.

But I didn’t think it was that simple. Sure, he liked coffee. But usually, he didn’t overdo it. I decided to let it go, not wanting to make a big deal.

After breakfast, we decided to make the most of the beautiful morning and set out for a leisurely walk around the neighborhood. Hand in hand, we strolled along tree-lined streets and meandering paths. The cool breeze kissed our cheeks as we lost ourselves in conversation and laughter.

We returned home in the afternoon. It was time to prepare for our evening. I made my way to the bathroom, eager to freshen up. Stepping into the shower, I let the warm water cascade over me. Closing my eyes, I allowed myself to linger in the moment, relishing the sensation of relaxation that washed over me with each passing second.

Emerging from the shower, I wrapped myself in a plush towel and made my way to our bedroom, where my outfit for the evening awaited. With careful deliberation, I selected a beautiful dress from my wardrobe, its fabric soft against my skin as I slipped it on. Standing before the mirror, I took a moment to admire my reflection. The dress hugged my curves in all the right places.

I really did have nice boobs…

James took a shower— but he was much faster than me. It took him ten minutes to shower, get dressed, and wait for me on the couch.

With a smile, I reached for my hairbrush. I decided to wear my hair up in an elegant updo, allowing the delicate strands to cascade down in soft waves.

Next came the makeup, a touch of mascara to accentuate my lashes, a swipe of lipstick to add a pop of color to my lips. As I applied each stroke with precision, I felt my heart beat wildly. With a final touch of jewelry, I added a pair of earrings and a necklace.

I walked to James.

“You look absolutely stunning,” he murmured. His eyes swept over me, covering every inch.

Warmth spread through my cheeks at his compliment. A shy smile graced my lips as I met his gaze. “Thank you,” I replied softly.

James glanced at his phone. “We have some time to kill. Why don’t we stop by a nearby coffee shop?”

“Sounds good to me,” I agreed.

We went there and the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee enveloped us. James wasted no time in heading straight for the counter. As I perused the menu, debating between a small pastry or a light snack, I noticed James’s order—a massive triple espresso shot latte that practically towered over the other drinks. Concern flickered in the back of my mind as I watched him take a sip.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

James flashed me a reassuring smile.

“Of course, I’m fine,” he replied, his tone casual as he took another sip of his drink. “Just need a little extra boost to keep me going until the play starts.”

I nodded. But was he okay? I wasn’t so sure. James was usually the picture of health, but lately, the stress had gotten to him.

When we finished our coffees, it was time for the play.

We took our seats. The lights dimmed. The curtains rose. The theatre was enveloped in an atmosphere of anticipation. I found myself captivated by the performance unfolding before me. The actors took to the stage with a flourish, their voices soaring in harmony as they brought the timeless tale to life with each captivating note.

Wow.

I glanced over at James, excited to see his reaction. Surely, he’d also be loving it.

He was asleep.

His head lolled to the side. His shoulders slumped, and his eyes were closed as he leaned against the plush seat. His body was hunched over, and his breaths were long and deep. I thought about the four cups of coffee that he drank this morning. Then I thought about the triple espresso latte. If exhaustion were a person, James would be him.

He needed sleep. He needed to rest. Yet, I had dragged him out to the theatre despite his obvious fatigue. James had been working tirelessly in recent weeks, pushing himself to the limit. He was only here because of me. I shouldn’t have brought him here…

I made the decision to let him sleep, gently resting my hand on his arm in silent reassurance. As much as I longed for his company during the play, his well-being was far more important to me than any performance could ever be.

But I couldn’t enjoy the play anymore. Not when I was so worried about him.

Poor James…