Here is where it starts; I take off my body suit.

Instead of lying beside him, he under the cover,
me on top of the cover as before, I took off
my suit and got under the cover.

I waited until he was asleep. I brought my body
against his to feel his flesh against mine.

I lay there and lay there and he woke. He woke
when I was lying there and turned to face me.

Usually he lies on his left side, I behind.  Not close,
just there. This night he lay on his back, my arm was
across his chest.  When he woke, he turned, his left
arm came over my body, pressing my body against his,
and then….

For a ninth of a second I thought about stopping him.
For a ninth of a second, I remembered he had an
appointment in some hours.

But after that ninth of a second, all I knew was that
Simon was making love to me and that is all I wanted
to know.

We lay there, holding each other, holding each other.
I was going to say; “Simon, go to sleep, you have an
appoint…” but he had already gone back to sleep.

I slipped out of his arms, took my suit, into my room.
I thought about bathing, but the feel of his sweat
against my body, the feel of him against my body, no.
I was not going to wash that away.  I lay on my
cushion reliving every second.

When I could no longer smell him on me, I rinsed my
skin then put on my suit, into kitchen. I pulled on
a skin, went through the first door, then the second,
outside in the frozen waste, watching the dawn.

I tried to count time, in Earth measure, translate to
Simon’s biological clock.  If I call dawn six in the
morning, that would mean we made love…at…eleven
at night?  He went to bed at..eight?..he had an
appointment at…eleven…so it would be twelve hours
…that was enough?

Was the appointment eleven? The messager gave it…but
with the squiggle that meant tentative. Confirmation
would be in two? hours…okay. I think enough time.

I think.

I made breakfast, ate. Thinking; If I were pregnant…

It had been perfect, like in films. It wasn’t set up,
it just happened.

If I had the suit on and was lying on top of the sheet,
it wouldn’t have happened.

If when he reached for me and kissed me I pulled back
a little…or left the cushion, it wouldn’t have
happened.

But it almost just happened.
It happened, almost just happened. Almost.

The sun was higher now, guess eight in the morning.
I check the messager. The time had changed…
Thirteen hours for Simon to restock.
He should be awake now. Eight hour sleeping cycle.
He must be very tired.

I went to the Office, made sure it perfect, ponder
if I should keep the Fitinala recording replace with
Naphala or use them as alternatives?
I’ll leave it is it is.

I went to Simon’s room, lay beside him, kissed him.
His eyes opened. I smiled, just seeing his eyes.
He reached out, pulled me against his body.

“Today is the last, tomorrow is a rest day.” I say.

He lay a minute more, then to the bathroom.

“How much time?” he called from there.

“Two hours,”

He called; “I’ll go to the gym for…”

“No…you can’t use any strength…” I warned.

He looked at me. He had different kinds of looks.
I couldn’t read all of them. This one, I don’t
know what it means, so I turn to tidy the room,
then went to the kitchen.

In a little while he came in, took his breakfast
plate, sat, and looked at me.

“We made love, didn’t we?”

“Oh yes,” I smile.

“Why didn’t you stop me?” he asks.

I tried four times to speak but I didn’t know
what I was to say. I suppose he grew impatient;

“Do you care about me?” he asks.

“I love you Simon,” I say.

“Oh. What does that mean, love?” he probes.

“Love. You know. It is an English word. Love.”
I tried to explain, “I want to see you every day.”

“Until you take me home…”

“Yes. But even then, I will still love you. Even
if I don’t see you again, I will still love you.”

“How many other people do you love?” he asked,
his eyes squinty.

I considered; “I can’t think of anyone else…”

“Your parents?”

“I don’t remember them,” I admit, “why do you ask
questions?”

“I want to know if…” he paused, the chime went,
advising the appointee on her way.

We looked at each other. He stood, went to his room.

I didn’t understand why he was interrogating. Why
would he ask if I cared about him?
I thought that was very evident.

Why did he ask about love?
He must know the word.

I didn’t understand.