Our Future in Navy Suede

A glass of rosé warms in my hand,

the stem slick beneath my fingers

as I wait inside the restaurant

at Restoration Hardware,

the one with chandeliers drifting overhead,

marble tables dressed in linen,

and a hum that feels like Sunday afternoon.

You’re across the city at the wrong one,

all furniture and no wine,

no me,

and still, I don’t mind.

With you, I’m already patient,

already sure.

When you arrive,

laughter spills before the first hello.

We talk and talk,

the world falling quiet

in the space between our voices.

After lunch,

you remind me you’ve hired me

as your interior designer,

and together we wander the showroom.

In the bed section,

you turn to me and say,

“Pick your new bed.”

I laugh; “My bed?”

You correct me:

“Our bed. You’ll be moving in soon.”

It is a line I have never heard before,

and it catches in the quiet between us.

I am flattered, and moved,

because in my gut I know

the future has just been spoken into the air.

It feels less like a guess,

and more like a prophecy.

I sit with the store’s lead designer,

sketching our future in navy suede,

a headboard soaring to the ceiling,

alabaster lamps glowing like moons,

pampas grass pressed into shadow boxes

that will watch over us while we sleep.

Agate nightstands arrive first,

standing like sentinels beside a space

where our bed will be.

The bed takes weeks to come,

but I move in sooner,

already living inside the promise you made.

When it finally arrives,

it is exactly what you said it would be,

our bed,

and by then,

our blissful life.

Sincerely, Krystle Kelley