I suppose this the the new normal for me--Shannon sharing my house and a police protective detail scanning my house for electronic bugs or other tracking devices.
I make coffee for us all and let the team do their work. Surprisingly, they find no electronic snooping devices and my car is clean as well.
"Do you still feel vulnerable in your house," Manne, the male cop asks.
I look at Shannon's eyes and nod. "You guys are great but I'm sure we'll have lingering fears for some time afterward, even if you catch the perp."
The young cop is sympathetic. "Maybe you might consider having cameras and alarms installed."
"That sounds like a good idea but I wouldn't have a clue who to contact," I tell him.
"Try Residential and Commercial Alarms―they're a trusted name in the security field. Ask for Ari, he's an ex-cop, and really professional."
Shannon was already looking up the firm on her cell phone.
"I guess we'll be doing that," I smiled.
It was reassuring though to get a good report from the police team and even after they left we still felt secure knowing they were monitoring the premises.
It was a sign of the times though for us to be suddenly aware of our vulnerabilities and it caused both of us to draw close to each other, conscious of possible threats looming out in the darkness.
We huddled close on the couch, watching the flames from the fireplace and mesmerized by how our primitive instincts were roused by the mere thought of danger.
The events of the day obviously took their toll on us—we both were exhausted and fell asleep on the couch.
Waking up the next day in the gray light of dawn was bitter sweet—I was staring at Shannon’s lovely face beside me, her arms were entwined in mine and there was the realization this was the way our lives would be going forward—and I didn’t mind it one bit.
I slipped out of her warm embrace and quietly made coffee and warmed some croissants in the oven.
The fact that Shannon felt secure enough to sleep beside me made me aware of how comfortable we felt being with each other.
It augured well for our future and I liked the protective instincts that stirred in me.
“Hmm, you’re awake,” she whispered drowsily, “I haven’t slept so well in weeks.”
“Are you saying danger adds spice to your life?” I teased.
She gave me a mischievous grin, “I’m saying I could get used to this arrangement, particularly being served breakfast in bed.”
“You aren’t in bed,” I chuckled, pointing out the obvious.
“I’m not,” she parried, “But I’m also not alone in my townhouse thinking of you. I could get used to this arrangement.”
“Me too,” I smiled. I sat beside her and she rested her head on my shoulder.
So, this is what fulfillment feels like, I mused.
