Once Roman returned to work, I found myself not knowing what to do with myself. Kristen, Lori, and Lauren were all off doing their own things. There I was, sat about the mansion on my own, only texts between Roman and me and short conversations with Geoffrey filling my day. I hadn’t lasted more than a week before I was just about ready to scream.

After my shower one night, I paced around the room, dreading the following day.

Roman emerged, looking like a Greek God as always with water still glistening off of his abs and arms. He tossed the towel he was using to dry his hair around my hips and pulled me into him. "Hey now, what’s the matter?" he asked with a touch of concern lingering in his voice.

"I can’t take the boredom, Roman," I muttered. I couldn’t raise my voice above that low level or else I knew it was going to crack. I peered up at him with teary eyes. "I know you don’t expect me to just stay home like some housewife. I just... I’ve never had the freedom to do anything. Freedom had always been the goal and the only thing I worked for. Now that I have it... I-I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like I’m going crazy. Shopping bores me, there’s only so much television one woman can watch, and I think if I linger in the kitchen anymore than I already do, Geoffrey is going to ask you to divorce me."

We shared a weak chuckle at my mild attempt at a joke. I was joking because the woes I was feeling felt so frivolous in comparison to what we had just been through. It felt silly, like something that should be joked about.

It didn’t make it feel any less real, however. It was real, real to me and my mental health. I couldn’t take another week of pure boredom. It was a sort of slow burn torture that I couldn’t greatly express.

He rubbed my shoulders and looked me in the eye as he sat down on the corner of the bed and pulled me between his legs. "It’s going to take time, you know? I know the first step of me doing anything with myself is getting agitated and annoyed with myself. Sounds like you’ve reached that point. Now, all we have to do is find something you’re interested in doing."

"You want me to fill my day with coloring or collecting stamps?" I huffed. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

"No, no," Roman chuckled and squeezed me closer. "Just something you enjoy. Something you can get lost in and, if you feel like it, turn it into a business. That’s always a way to fill up time. The important thing to me is for you to find something that scratches an itch for you. That makes you light up with joy. Doesn’t matter what it is, as long as you enjoy it."

My shoulders slumped. "I don’t even know where to begin, Roman. There’s too many options and I’ve never been creative... It’s overwhelming."

"I think you are creative. It’s just a matter of finding the medium that works for you," he assured me before bringing me in for a kiss.

I appreciated his vote of confidence, but I just wasn’t so certain. Maybe I had just been raised in such a controlling manner that I was only comfortable when controlled to a certain degree; though the thought didn’t feel right even in my own mind. Maybe he was right, and I was simply agitated from all the boredom. Kissing him lovingly and thanking him, we curled into bed together.

As I drifted off to sleep in his arms, I knew that no matter how I filled my day, he was always going to be the best part of it.

The following Monday, I woke up with a note on his pillow.

Hannah, go down the hall and check the last door on the right. Across from my study.

X, Roman

Blinking at the note sleepily, I sat up and tried to gather myself from the sleep. Kicking my legs over the side of the bed, I put on my slippers and headed down the hall. There was no time to wait, needing to know what exactly he had in store for me. When I opened the door, I audibly gasped.

In the matter of three days, Roman had managed to build me an entire studio. He must have ordered it to be constructed over the weekend, when he kept me out of the house with walks in the park, lunches at cafes, and dinners in downtown. It had built in shelves and cabinets lining every wall. Fabrics, yarn, needles, hooks, palettes, paint brushes, easels, dress forms, and so much more filled the room. It was all so neat and completely stocked, it really could have been a hobby store. Even a standup piano, violin, and guitar were stationed in one of the corners.

I texted him, You’ve really outdone yourself this time.

He almost immediately replied, Glad you enjoy it. Find your spark of joy.

I smiled down at my phone before pacing about the room some more. I was overwhelmed and elated as I took in all the objects and supplies, not knowing where to start. That was, until I noticed a pottery wheel in the middle of the room. I had always wanted to try pottery, it always looked like such fun.

And there I spent the next couple of days, tinkering with clay and water ratios, spinning speeds, molding techniques, and what music went with the mood. I wasn’t getting much of anywhere, but the little progress I was making was so rewarding. I really had found something to get lost in. I couldn’t have been happier.

I eventually reached a level of pure frustration that I found a private pottery teacher online to come and help me. By the time I was finally making passable bowls and plates, the kiln I ordered had arrived and was installed off of the deck. By the end of the week, I had a rather decent looking set of bowls and plates. They weren’t perfect by any means; they had little waves and bumps and weren’t perfectly round. However, I was proud enough of them to decide to plan a special dinner for Roman.

After the teacher left a bit early on Friday, I busied myself with making dinner. I wanted to not just show off my plates, but also thank Roman. Had it not been for his thoughtful gift of a craft room, I think I would have actually lost my mind by then. He had enough care and forethought for me to arrange such a wonderful gift that I needed a way to express it. The best way I knew how, was through food if I was going to show off my plates and bowls in a way that didn’t make me feel like a little girl showing off her latest stick figure drawing.

I sent off a text to ask the girls to stay away for the night, that Roman and I were going to have a special night to ourselves. The accumulative response was to say no more, none of them wanted to see us naked and going at it. Which I could have tried to deny, but I knew better when it came to Roman and me.

I made a steak dinner with twice-baked potatoes, salads with gorgonzola cheese and pears, pan-seared green beans, and little bite-sized cheesecakes. Cooking over the time we were on lock down had really made all the difference in my ability to do more than make a simple pasta. When I got the text he was on the way home, I began the careful task of plating the food. I had never cared much for how food looked on the plate, but I did when they were spun and glazed with my own hands. At one point, I was so frustrated I looked up reference pictures of steak dinners for some inspiration.

Finally, when it was done and the candles were lit, I put my apron away and stood by the table with my hands clasped together to keep myself from fidgeting with the food. In a matter of moments, Roman was walking through the front door. He found his way into the dining room and locked eyes with me before looking over the table.

"What is all this?" he asked, a smile rapidly appearing across his lips.

"I decided to make a dinner for us," I explained with a modest little shrug.

"What’s the occasion?" Roman questioned, pacing toward me as he tossed his suit jacket onto the back of one of the chairs.

"No occasion, really, just wanted to do something nice," I stated, a gentle blush coming over my cheeks.

"And everyone else?" he asked.

"I’ve sent them away for the night. It’s just us," I stated, batting my eyelashes.

He grinned and that was all I needed to know that our evening was going to be phenomenal.