Salim barely felt the plane as touch down. It was a luxury he owed in part to his excellent plane and expert pilot, but even more so to the woman curled up in the seat next to his, laying with her head against his chest and his arm around her.

As the plane came to a stop her eyes fluttered open.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” he said warmly. “We’re back in New York.”

She yawned and stretched, though in such a way to still keep his arm around her. She was so graceful, even on waking. How was she always so graceful? His mind flashed back to the time he’d walked in on her in her dressing room and wondered what she’d look like when she was just waking up. He couldn’t have imagined.

“We’re here already? But we only just took off.”

Salim chuckled.

“You slept all the way from LA. Anyone would think you’d just spent the last three months headlining a massive world tour or something.”

She returned his smile.

“And anyone would think the list of cities on that tour somehow kept growing.”

Salim leaned down and gave her a light kiss on the lips.

“Hardly my fault that I want to show you off.”

She returned his kiss on her lips with a quick surprise kiss of her own.

“Hardly my fault that I like letting you do it.”

They disembarked the plane and made for the car, Rahul driving them to Midtown. Everything about this was familiar. Everything was routine. Except that everything was elevated now. Each simple action, each insignificant piece of his daily life was just a little bit better. Or, in some cases, much, much better.

“Are you ready to show me your apartment?” Ophelia asked, as they stood in front of the door. “Sure there’s no vestiges of your bachelor life hanging around? You don’t need to run around and do a quick cleanup before it’s presentable for female company?”

Salim smiled.

“It feels like the world has changed since the last time I was here. But yes, I’m ready to show you our apartment. You’re hardly ‘female company,’ after all. You’re everything to me. And you live here, now.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so?” she asked, flattered but taken aback.

He hadn’t planned to ask her to move in with him. He hadn’t thought about it at all. But now that she was standing at the threshold, it seemed more than the right thing to do.

Salim laughed.

“I think once I let you in, you won’t want to leave. It’s a nice place, you know. Just preparing you for that possibility.”

Ophelia was giggling as she stepped over the threshold, but silent once she was inside.

This was one of the things that he most treasured about his new life with Ophelia: getting to see her experience and appreciate new things for the first time. When she saw something she liked, it was written on her face, and her joy felt like his joy. He couldn’t wait to show her every piece in his collection, one by one. It would be like getting to live the best moments of the last ten years over again, only better.

“Do you like it?” he asked, when she’d had time to look around.

She shot him a wan expression, and then leaned into his open arms.

“Of course I like it. You chose it. I like everything you choose.”

He kissed her neck.

“Well, some of my choices are better than others…”

He kissed her neck a few more times, further and further down.

“And some of my choices are much, much better.”

She nestled in his arms for a moment, resting in his embrace and luxuriating in his love, regarding the room some more. And then, she spoke again, indicating a large, brown-paper-wrapped package, the shape of a painting.

“The living room is a bit cluttered, though…”

Gently, he nudged her towards the package.

“Oh, you noticed that, did you? I had it delivered earlier today. Just a little end-of-season present for you. Go on, open it.”

She did as bid, and again, Salim felt that the real present had been to himself, getting to see the expression on her face.

“An original Degas?” she asked, in awe, staring at the painting once the brown paper had been removed.

“Oh, so you know art now?” he teased, and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m a career ballerina. I know the man who paints ballerinas,” she shot back. “And this…this is…”

He stepped forward, putting his arms around her again.

“This is perfect for the living room, I think. For our living room. Your love of dancing and my love of art.”

He felt her laugh softly in his arms.

“And now, your new love of dancing, and my new love of art. Love does tend to multiply, doesn’t it?”

He thought about that for a moment. She was right. For the lucky, in any case. And Salim was very, very glad in that moment to count himself among one of the lucky.

And he was even more glad when Ophelia reached down and took his arm, and led him away towards the hallway and the rest of the unexplored apartment.

“Which way is the bedroom?” she asked. “I happen to have an end-of-season present for you, too…”