Time Flies

The first few days after he put his clothes in her drawer felt strange in the best way. Alex went to class, then straight to the cafe for his evening shift. His phone buzzed in his pocket more than it ever had before. Mia texting good morning. Mia asking how his shift was going. Mia sending a picture of the empty space in her drawer with a little smiley face.

He stayed over twice that first week. Not every night. He didn’t want to crowd her. But when he did, they fell into a quiet routine. She would study at the kitchen table while he made them simple pasta. They ate on the couch with the blanket over their legs. Later they would lie in bed and talk until one of them fell asleep. No big plans. Just being there.

He kept overthinking it. Was he texting too much? Was he staying too often? The drawer felt like proof she wanted him around, but his head still whispered that maybe she was just being polite. The “I love you” they said every night before sleep still made his chest tight. He had never said it to anyone. Now he said it and meant it and still waited for the other shoe to drop.

Mia came to the cafe on his third shift that week. She ordered a coffee even though she didn’t need it and sat at the corner table with her laptop. Every time he looked over she smiled at him. When the line died down he brought her a muffin on the house. She pulled him down by the apron strings and kissed him quick behind the counter where no one could see. Just a soft press of lips. It made him hard in his jeans and he had to step into the back room for a minute to calm down. He felt guilty for it. She was just being sweet and his body turned it into something else.

By the end of the first week she had brought a few of her own things to his place too. A toothbrush. One of her hoodies. A book she was reading. She left them on his nightstand like it was normal. He stared at them for a long time after she left. His small apartment felt different with her stuff there. Less empty. More real.

Classes got busy. Midterms were coming up. He juggled notes and shifts and trying to be a good boyfriend. Some nights he was too tired to do more than text her goodnight. He worried she would think he was pulling away. But every time he saw her she just pulled him close and let him rest his head on her shoulder. She didn’t push for more than he could give. That made him love her harder and doubt himself more at the same time.

They had sex twice in those two weeks. Both times slow and careful like the first night. Once at her place after a long study session when the tension had built from just sitting close. Once at his place when she stayed over and they woke up tangled. Both times he focused on her face. The way she looked at him. The soft sounds she made. Afterward they stayed close and talked in the dark. He told her he was scared of balancing everything. She told him she liked watching him work at the cafe. Small things that made the sex feel like part of something bigger instead of the main thing.

The second week got harder. He picked up an extra shift because someone called out. Mia had a group project that kept her late at the library. They still saw each other almost every day but it was rushed. Quick kisses at the bus stop. Her bringing him lunch at the cafe on her way to class. Him staying over but falling asleep before they could really talk. He hated it. He wanted the slow nights back. The ones where they just lay there and she traced his face and he told her the things he never told anyone.

One night midweek she came to the cafe after her last class. It was quiet. He made her favorite drink without her asking and brought it to her table. She looked tired. He sat across from her for five minutes even though he wasn’t supposed to.

“You look beat,” she said. She reached across and took his hand under the table. Her thumb rubbed the back of his knuckles. “You’ve been running nonstop.”

He shrugged. “Gotta pay for books somehow. And I want to see you. It’s hard to do both.”

She squeezed his hand. “I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to prove anything by working yourself dead.”

He looked at her. Really looked. The way she waited for him even when he was busy. The way she had made space in her life and her drawer without making it a big production. It hit him again how much he had wanted this and how much it still scared him.

“I love you,” he said low so only she could hear.

Her smile was soft. “I love you too. Now go make that lady’s latte before she glares a hole in my head.”

He laughed and went back to work. But the rest of the shift his chest felt lighter.

By the end of the two weeks they had a rhythm. He stayed at her place three nights a week. She came to his place once. They studied together at the library like before but now her foot rested against his under the table and she would lean over to kiss his cheek when no one was looking. She started calling him her boyfriend when she talked to her roommate. He heard it once when he walked in and it made his face hot in a good way.

He still overthought everything. Was he a good boyfriend if he couldn’t always stay late? Was she getting tired of his shifts at the cafe? Did the “I love you” mean as much to her as it did to him? But every time the doubt got loud she would do something small. Text him a picture of his sweatpants in her drawer. Wait for him outside the cafe after a long shift. Pull him into a hug the second he walked through her door and just hold him until the noise in his head quieted.

The physical stuff stayed easy between them. Kisses that lasted longer than they should in her hallway. Her hand slipping under his shirt when they cuddled. Him getting hard from the simplest things like her wearing his t-shirt to bed. They didn’t always act on it. Sometimes they just held each other and talked about nothing until they fell asleep. Those nights felt as big as the nights they had sex. Maybe bigger.

Then one Thursday night everything shifted.

He had the night off. They were at her apartment like usual. She had made boxed mac and cheese and they ate it on the couch while she told him about her group project. He listened and played with her fingers. It felt normal. Good. He was thinking maybe he could stay the whole weekend. Maybe bring more clothes over like she had hinted at before.

After they ate she went to the bathroom. He cleaned up the bowls and put them in the sink. When she came out she didn’t sit back down right away. She stood in the doorway to the bedroom and twisted the hem of her hoodie in her hands. Her face looked pale in the low light.

Alex felt it immediately. The shift in the air. The way her shoulders were tight.

“You okay?” he asked. He wiped his hands on a dish towel and walked over to her.

Mia nodded but it was too fast. She looked at the floor then back at him. Her eyes were shiny.

“I think…” She stopped. Took a breath. “I think I missed my period.”

The words landed heavy in the quiet room. Alex felt his stomach drop. His brain went blank for a second then started spinning so fast he couldn’t catch one thought. The first night. The careful sex. The two times after. Protection. Had they been careful every time? He couldn’t remember. Everything had felt so big and new he hadn’t thought that far ahead.

Mia was still standing there twisting her hoodie. Waiting for him to say something. Her face looked scared in a way he had never seen before.

He opened his mouth but nothing came out at first. His hands felt cold. The room felt smaller. Two weeks of juggling classes and work and trying to be the boyfriend she deserved and now this.

She missed her period.

He reached for her hand without thinking. Held it tight. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure she could hear it.

Neither of them moved. The mac and cheese bowls sat in the sink. His clothes were still in her drawer. The blanket was on the couch where they had just been sitting like everything was normal.

And now nothing felt normal at all.