"I'm not really religious," he said, squeezing my hand. "But I want to say how thankful I am about the tissue match."
I nodded, emotions filling me. "Me, too."
He smiled and let go of my hand. "I'm also thankful that I found you. Such a delicious morsel of prime womanhood."
"You're hungry," I said, grinning back. "You need to eat."
"I do need to eat," he replied and wagged his eyebrows suggestively. "But dinner first."
Of course, that sent a thrill through me, but I pushed it aside. Who knew what kind of mood Drake would be in later. If he really did want to get 'sloshed', as he called it, I doubted much would happen between us. Maybe a drunken grope, and giggly missionary position…
We ate our meal, and despite delaying our trip, we discussed the itinerary and the logistics of the move that would happen once we knew how Liam was.
"We'll be staying at the Hilton for a while until I can find a nice home for us. A colleague has suggested Kitusuru Village as a place to rent where there are a lot of expats living. Most of them are families with children, but there may be an area where singles and younger couples live. We'll see once we get there." He looked at me. "Do you have a preference for where to live? I mean, apartment or house?"
I shrugged. "I don’t really care. I have no idea what to expect because I spent all my time in the relief camp in Mangaize or in hotels."
"I have a contact in Nairobi who's already looking for a nice house. I think it would be great to actually live in a house for a change, instead of an apartment."
"I've always lived in an apartment, except for our cottage in the Hamptons. It would be nice. Whatever you think, Drake."
"From what people who have lived there say, once you're inside the compounds, you won't know the difference between Nairobi and Los Angeles. They're gated communities. They're where most of the expats live. Very safe. Large estates with parks and shopping."
I nodded. Part of me wanted to see the real Nairobi, but the other part, the part who saw too much reality in Mangaize, didn’t. It was exciting to imagine where we'd live, and of course, searching for a place with Drake. It would make our relationship more real. We weren't merely fuck partners who got together for sex. We'd be living together, eating together, sleeping together. Just being ourselves with each other.
I almost had to pinch myself as I sat there, fork in hand, watching Drake eat his meal. He was busy talking about the hospital and the university. He finally glanced up from his plate, his eyes catching mine.
"What's going on in that mind of yours, Ms. Bennet? Something good, I hope, from that wistful smile."
I smiled more broadly. "Was it wistful?"
He nodded and reached out to take my hand. "Yes, very."
I shook my head, trying hard to put what I was feeling into words. "I've never done this kind of thing before," I said.
"What kind of thing?"
"Lived with a man. Planned to move somewhere with him. Planned to pull up roots and move to another continent."
"You went to Africa with Nigel."
"Not quite the same thing…"
He chuckled at that. "Not quite." Then he put his fork down and inhaled deeply. "I know this is a huge commitment, withdrawing from your semester, letting your apartment go, coming with me to Nairobi, living with me. Now with the delay, I know it seems like I haven't given you what I promised."
I reached out and took his hand. "You don’t have to feel bad about that at all. Of course, we'll stay here – as long as you want and need. I just want to be with you, wherever that is and whatever we’re doing."
He leaned over and kissed me. "I don’t know what will happen between us, Kate, but I can't imagine doing anything without you."
I smiled, emotion building inside of me. "Me either."
We turned back to our meals and ate for a while in silence, nothing more needing to be said.
After we tidied up from our meal, Drake brought a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses to the living room, where we sat by the fireplace. He poked the logs into renewed life and we sat in front of it, the bottle of vodka on the coffee table.
"Now, Ms. Bennet, I intend to get you drunk."
I laughed, and snuggled in closer to him. "Are you sure you want to? You have no idea what kind of drunk I might be. And besides," I said, poking his arm. "As a physician, shouldn't you be advocating for moderation?"