2.

Last week had been the best week of my life. And not just because my favorite artist released an album, but because my husband and I took the train everyday last week and I saw him every single time.

At first, I thought, maybe he was stalking me.

Then I realized that he may be thinking the same about me.

Any way, I know that it's fates way of shaping our destines.

It's seven fifty five and the train arrived promptly, the doors parting and allowing us to walk inside. It's been a week since I met my husband ad not once has he sat down beside me. Not that I mind, you know, it gives me the opportunity to stare at him as much as I wanted to.

I let out a yawn, pulling my scarf up to cover my nose, my hands shoved in my pocket as I tried to find a seat. Maybe I was doing the wrong thing first. Maybe if I see my husband, there would be a seat across him. Oh crap, I really didn't want to stand today. I slept late last night and I'm lazy.

Any way, I found a seat, pulling my hands out from my pocket and then scrolling through my phone. I must be out of it because I know very well that the train was going to pick up my husband from the next train stop.

Ahh.

I played a couple games of sudoku, moving on to words with friends and accepting a new challenge from Wrendermeinsane.  I looked at the tiles, racked my hea for a bit, before I played, gaining twenty five points at once. Soon, enough, the train pulls to a stop at the next station and once the doors part, I held my breath while the person beside me sips from her water bottle..

Sure enough, my husbands walks in and the girl beside me promptly chokes on her water. And really, I understand. It seems like over the weekend, my husband had gotten a haircut and didn't sent out a warning to the world. Warning: hot man approaching.

His brunette hair was cut low at the side in an attractive fade, the top artfully tussled, grey eyes sharp. He was in a charcoal suit with matching pants, suede shoes and a black overcoat. He looks around, trying to find somewhere to sit and I didn't dare look away. It's not like he was going to notice me anyway.

He does find the sit that was empty and made his way towards me. When he passes by and I got a whiff of his cologne, it was my turn to start coughing for no reason. My cheeks grew hot and I held onto my breath and counted to ten. It helped stop the coughing.

Today my husband was holding on to a cup of coffee and his phone, taking a sip of his drink as he scrolls through his phone. My own phone vibrates with a notification telling me it was my turn to play next.

Never have I met someone as gorgeous as my husband.

I ended up playing more turns with wrendermeinsane before the train pulls to a stop, I looked up, sighting the name of the station and promptly stood up. The people in front of me were moving slowly an I didn't have the time to look back and check if my husband was on the train. I was so out of it, that I didn't even notice the woman who was trying to aggressively make her way out until I was pushed hard against the person in front of me.

The woman pushed one more time and we were now outside the train. The person in front of me turns and I stepped back a bit, almost touching the body of the still moving train. The man reached out, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me closer. Away from the moving train before I injure myself.

The man had a stoic face, coffee stain on his suit and even his coat. He doesn't look very impressed.

My husband.

My eyes were wide, cheeks growing warm and before I could stop myself, I pressed my fist to my chest, moving it slowly in a circular motion. Fingers moving quickly as I signed, I am so sorry, I hope you're okay.

The man stared at me, his brow furrowing a little.

Oh.

Oh.

Signing was my immediate go to action and I have never felt comfortable speaking, it's why I hardly do it but the situation calls for it. My husband was like the sun, I couldn't stare at him directly. I didn't even know him and he was making me feel some type of way.

"I am so sorry. The lady pushed me. I hope you're alright." I said, my lips shaping around the words and I tried to keep the decibels low so I wouldn't end up shouting at my husband. He was staring right at me.

"I am fine." he said and I ended up focusing on his lips, so I could read it fluently. I nodded, not sure of what to do here. So rather than be known to my husband as an awkward hedgehog, I gave him a little wave and went on my way.

My heart was beating really fast. Like always I got coffee before making my way to the library, still feeling a little floaty from my conversation with my husband. I wondered what his voice sounded like. With a sigh, I pushed open the door to the library, ignoring the flash of light as I made my way over to the entry desk.

Desmond was seated there, flipping through a copy of The Great Gatsby.

"How many times do you want to read that?"

Desmond literally startles at my voice. It's been almost three weeks since he's heard it, afterall.

"Bailey. . ."

Now that he was looking up, I raised my hands and signed, telling him what happened to me this morning. Desmond was chuckling and I gave him my best glare. I huffed and walked away from the table, heading for the employee's room so that I could take off my coat and scarf, sighing as I ran my hands through my hair. I opted out of using my hearing aid today.

Desmond was holding on to my cup of coffee, looking sheepish when he sees that I was watching him. The little thief. Every day he keeps saying he's not a fan of coffee or tea or any beverages and every time he steals sips from my drinks, no matter what they are.

I was in charge of wrapping up book orders and re-shelving new and returned books. Desmond manned the entrance, pointing people to where they needed to go. A few people do come up to me to ask and I had to lip read to understand what is being said.

After close to half of the books are up, I take a sit on one of the bean bags close to the large windows and read a couple chapters of Catcher in the rye. One of my favorite books. Just like Desmond with The Great Gatsby, I could reread Catcher In The Rye over and over again and still feel excited.

Lunch comes in the blink of an eye and soon enough, Des and I were closing up the library and standing in front of it. Not sure of where to go for lunch. It was cold out and I tucked my face against my scarf, my hands in my pocket.

"Where should we eat?" Des signed.

I shrugged in response.

"There's a breakfast bar that's open twenty four seven. Want to try it?" Des signed and I nodded. We made our way to the breakfast bar, making sure our footsteps match so one doesn't disappear in the crowd of people heading towards their destination.

The breakfast bar smelt like pancake immediately we walked in and it was so warm. We chose a table near the window and took off our coats, hanging them over the chairs before taking our seat. We looked through the menu just as a waiter appears and we placed our order.

I got a five stack chocolate chip waffle with syrup, bacon and baked beans, much to Des' disgust and a cold fruit salad to go while my friend got banana pancakes, chocolate syrup, bacon, eggs.

Des' hand appeared in my line of vision as he knocked on the table, tapping his lips when I looked up. "Ask me what's new with me." Des said as I read his lips.

I huffed out a laugh at his silliness but do as I was asked, signing the question back to him.

"I have a date tonight."

Oh. This lucky. . . b-word.

"Is it with the cute girl you met on your way home last week?" I asked, drumming my fingers against the table, keeping the pressure light.

"Yes." he signed, smiing so goofily. I can not believe his love life is progressing faster than mine. I only talked to my husband today and he might not even had found me attractive or maybe the whole deaf thing would freak him out, like it has done to some people in the past. Maybe he didn't like the sound of my voice. There were so many things to choose from.

"Leave her and date me instead."

Desmond made a face at what I signed. "Gross, no. never. Stop trying to lean on me and find a man who would fuck you hard for a week and forever."

My eyes widened and I looked around, wondering if anyone had seen or managed to understand what Desmond had signed to me. He was such a dirty person, oh my goodness. He was right though. I was trying to lean on him because he is familiar and already had no issues with my lack of hearing and my voice. Heck, he has seen my ass before.

However, Desmond is as straight as a plank of wood.

"Try starting a conversation with your train husband. You already know he's the man for you." Desmond added, his fingers moving quickly as he signed.

My husband really was the man for me.

The waiter appears with our food and Desmond eats, practically inhaling his food. Over the past couple of hours, Wrendermeinsane and I have been playing and are at a draw with just two letters left. It was fun hanging out and eating with Desmond, it was also fun owning and running the library with Des, He was my only and longest friend.

We ended up walking back to the library.

I wondered what my husband was doing. If I was in over my head with the man and I don't even know the man's name. After work, I bought some pastries and even made my way to the train station. I waited, patiently bouncing on my feet. My train was right on time, stopping and then parting it's doors.

I took a seat, my pastries on my lap as I took out my phone. I ended up playing the last word, winning with 920 points. I hesitated over the rematch button, it had been fun playing with Wrendermeinsane and he was very close to me in score, 880, compared to other players I had shared a game with.

I ended up taping on rematch. The other player does not reply immediately and I ended up scrolling through twitter, laughing at a couple of memes. The trains pulls to a stop at the next station, the doors part and my husband steps in.

I held my breath as he sits across me, eyes trained on his phone. Like he was sensing my gaze, he looks up and catches my eyes. I resisted the urge to slap my hand over my mouth but instead, I shyly looked away from him and focused on my phone.

Time passes and soon the train stops at my husband's train station. I stared pointedly at my phone until I see particular shoes in my line of vision and someone tapping my shoulder. When I looked up, my husband.

He pointed two fingers to his eyes and them mine, folded his hand into fists and pressed his thumb against his cheek. My lips part in shock and I stared at him and when he walks out of the train, I kept looking at the spot he occupied in front of me.

He just tried to sign, see you tomorrow.

My husband just signed to me.

—

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