Chapter 5 Easy Love
Being William's girlfriend was very easy. That was the first thing I noticed, and the thing that surprised me the most. There was no confusion. No guessing games. No waiting hours for replies that never came. No sudden mood changes that made my chest tighten for no reason.
With William, things were simple in the best way.
Every morning started the same way.
My phone would buzz before my alarm even rang, like he somehow knew when I was about to wake up.
Good morning, my love. I hope today is kind to you.
Sometimes it was just that. Short. Soft. Enough to make me smile before my eyes were fully open. Other times, it came with a voice note. His voice would be low and rough with sleep, slow and calm, saying my name like it mattered.
"Good morning, baby… I just wanted to hear your voice before the day starts. I hope you slept well."
I never got tired of it. Not once.
I'd listen to the voice note again while brushing my teeth, again while fixing my hair, again on my way out. It felt like carrying him with me into the day.
He checked on me often, but never in a suffocating way. It wasn't control. It wasn't pressure. It was care.
Did you eat?
How's work going?
Don't stress yourself too much, okay? You know you mean alot to me.
That last one always made my chest warm. You mean alot to me. It was really nice knowing that i meant alot to him.
At work, I caught myself smiling at my phone more than I ever had. I'd read his messages and forget where I was for a second. Forget the noise. Forget the deadlines.
My colleagues noticed almost immediately.
"You've changed," one of them said during lunch, eyeing me carefully. "You're smiling too much."
I laughed. "Is that a crime?"
"No," another one added, grinning. "But you're glowing. Something good is happening."
I tried to brush it off, but it was true. I felt lighter. Happier. Like something inside me had finally settled after being restless for so long.
One afternoon, during a particularly busy day, the receptionist called my name.
"There's a delivery for you."
I frowned. I wasn't expecting anything.
When I opened the bag, my heart skipped. Lunch. From my favorite place. The one I mentioned once, casually, weeks ago. Tucked inside was a small note.
For my baby. Don't skip meals.
From your love.
My colleagues gathered around instantly.
"Must be serious," one teased.
"Someone is spoiling you," another said.
I felt my cheeks warm as I smiled down at the food. It wasn't about the lunch. It was about the fact that he remembered. That he paid attention. That he cared in quiet, thoughtful ways.
I sent him a picture.
That was so thoughtful. Thank you love.
His reply came almost immediately.
Anything for my baby.
That evening, after work, we talked on the phone for hours. No rush. No awkward pauses. Just easy conversation that drifted wherever it wanted.
We talked about our days. I told him about a difficult client. He listened, really listened, asking questions, laughing at the parts that were meant to be funny, getting quiet when I needed understanding.
Then, out of nowhere, he asked, "What number of kids do you think we'll have?"
I laughed softly. "That's a big question."
"Tell me" he said. "I think I'd want three. Loud ones. The kind that runs around and makes a mess."
I could picture it without meaning to. Him laughing. Kids pulling at his clothes. A home filled with noise.
"I think I'd want two," I said quietly. "As long as they're loved."
"They will be," he said without hesitation. Like it was already decided. Like love was a given, not a question.
There was a pause after that. Not awkward. Just full.
We talked about where we'd like to live someday. He spoke about space, light, and somewhere peaceful. I spoke about warmth. Laughter. A place that felt safe. Somewhere that felt like rest.
"You know," he said later, his voice softer now, "you hold a special place in my heart."
My breath caught.
"I've never felt like this before," he continued. "With you, it feels… right. Natural. Like I don't have to try so hard to be understood."
I stayed quiet for a moment, my heart pounding. Then I told him the truth.
"I feel the same way."
He told me I mattered to him. That he saw a future when he looked at me. That he wanted to protect what we were building, slowly and carefully.
Every word wrapped around me, steady and reassuring. I believed him. Completely.
That night, after we said goodnight, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my phone resting on my chest. My heart felt so full it almost scared me.
This was what love was supposed to feel like, wasn't it?
Easy. Warm. Certain.
And as I drifted off to sleep, I smiled to myself, thinking how lucky I was to have found something so beautiful… so effortless.