Page 138 of The Moment You Know

“Okay, I’m listening.”

She cleared her throat. “The deal was that any time I was home alone, I was supposed to be naked, no matter what I was doing. I had to be naked so that I gotsoused to it, I would no longer be ashamed or self-conscious about my body—that I would be able to look at it and love it.”

“So, you walked around naked, for hours on end?” he asked, trying tonotpicture that.

She nodded. “At first it wasreallyawkward. Even though I was alone, I still felt self-conscious and it took me a few months to get used to it.But once I did and it became second nature, I was able to embrace naked time. I ate dinner naked. I watched movies on the couch naked—under a throw blanket because I’d get cold, but it counts. I slept naked. I put on my make-up naked, I listened to music and danced naked, too.”

His eyes widened.

Paige smiled at his response. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“You do?”

“You’re thinking that I was always a terrible dancer, like Elaine onSeinfeld—” she broke off at his expression, her brows drawing together. “What? That’s not what you were thinking?”

“No.”

“Then what were you thinking?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It was something perverted, wasn’t it?”

Under her direct gaze, he actually felt himself start to blush. “Maybe,” he answered, surprisingly embarrassed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

To his surprise, she started laughing. Loudly. “Youwere!”

Since she didn’t seem upset at all, his embarrassment was obviously a waste of time, so David decided to keep asking questions. “So what else did you do naked? Vacuum?”

She wiped at her eyes. “Yes.”

“Laundry?”

“Yes.”

“Did you pay your bills naked?”

“Except for my reading glasses, yes.”

He sat there, thinking about her living her life in her apartment, naked for hours at a time (alone) and for a moment, David didn’t care if it was wrong to imagine her doing all these things sans clothes … he was doing it. And he absolutely wished he could’ve seen it firsthand.

“You’re having more perverted thoughts, aren’t you?” she asked.

“What? No.”

“Yes, you are. I can tell by your expression.”

“No. Okay, fine, I am. But in my defense—”

“You have a defense?”

“Yes. Telling me all the things you do naked is really hard to imagine. So, you’re practicallyforcingme to imagine it, which makes it your fault.”

“I know. Not that it’s my fault, but that it’s hard to imagine me doing all that stuff naked. I look back and remember how I was when we were married and …” she trailed off, making a face.

“That wasn’t your fault, though.”

“No, but you still had to live with it.”

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