Page 28 of Takedown

“You’ll hurt its feelings, and it doesn’t smell. I take offense at that.” I smile, and when she doesn’t so much as smirk back, a laugh escapes, and the tension from earlier disappears.

“You didn’t even look. It’s thousands of dollars worth of stuff because you need everything. I got new living room furniture, and—”

“I don’t need to look at it. If you want it, get it. That’s why I gave you the credit card.” She puts the laptop on my lap and moves closer to me. The smell of her body spray hits, and all I want to do is stick my nose between her breasts and inhale. She points to the screen in front of us.

“This spreadsheet has the cost of everything. I found some good sales since neither one of us is a millionaire.” I glance at the spreadsheet, barely paying attention to the amount.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” she says, mimicking my voice. “How do you plan on paying for all of this?”

“Um, one of two ways, I guess. I can write a check, but I’ll probably pay it online.”

She closes the laptop shut and stands up. “Fine. This is for you. I won’t be taking any of it with me when I move out. I’m exhausted, so I’m going to shower. I’m happy to sleep on the couch if you prefer.”

“I don’t prefer. You will sleep in our bed.” She nods and walks away, and I’m relieved that she didn’t put up more of a fight.

I used the snowblower for the second time about an hour ago. When I returned, I was sweaty, so I’ve already showered. While she’s gone, I walk to the bedroom, remove all my clothes and slide under the sheets. My mother gave these to me as a housewarming gift, and they are good quality. For the first time since I received these, I’m grateful to have them.

My mom comes from a big Irish family, the youngest of nine. She came to the United States at the age of eighteen on a student visa. She is from a working-class family, and due to her residency status, she had to rely on jobs that paid under the table. She met my father one summer when she was working for a rich family in Montauk. He was a friend of the family, and even though he was much older, she fell in love with him. She had me two years later, and she learned the hard way he was not interested in raising a family with her.

She eventually ended things with him, but she says she never regrets having me. And my father was a lying philanderer, but he did pay for a fancy immigration lawyer who got her permanent residency status. And he always took care of me financially. That’s the extent of it. I can count on two hands how many times I’ve seen him in my life, but all of that is moot now since he died a few years ago.

Mel comes into the room wearing a long cotton t-shirt. I turn on my side to admire her, and she does her best to avoid eye contact with me. She sits on the edge of the bed, and I watch, mesmerized while she slowly rubs lotion on her legs. The t-shirt hikes up and I visibly swallow at the sight of plain cotton panties.

Once she’s done, she turns off the light and slides into bed.

“Do you know what you need in here?” she asks before I have a chance to reach over and touch her.

“What?”

“A TV. I like to watch television in bed. I’ll bring the one I have in my bedroom downstairs up here.”

I put an arm around her and pull her into my naked body. She gasps when she realizes I’m not wearing any clothes, but she doesn’t move away. In fact, she relaxes and sighs softly.

“Just buy a new one, and I’ll hang it on the wall. Buy whatever the hell you want.” My hand slides up her t-shirt, and when my fingers graze across her stomach, she trembles.

“What are you doing?” I don’t miss the huskiness in her voice.

“I’m about to fuck my wife.” My mouth covers hers and no more words are exchanged between us.

16

We were stuck together for three days. School didn’t open again until Friday, but I worked from home the rest of the week. We got into a rhythm. He gets out of bed way before I do to workout. By the time I get up, he’s already showered. While I use his home gym, he cooks breakfast for us. I don’t know what he does to the eggs, but they are always delicious. When I clean the kitchen, he will do a load of laundry. Every day, like clockwork, he does a load of laundry after breakfast.

While I work, he’ll read, but the first day after the storm we went grocery shopping together. It’s a mundane task I’ve done a million times, either by myself or with Alex, but it was different with Adam. It was like we’ve been doing this our entire lives. He filled the cart with all the healthy, organic stuff he eats, and I filled it with the stuff that tastes good. When I pulled out my credit card to pay, he gave his to the cashier first.

I’m learning a lot of things about him. He must love to cook because whatever goes into his body is prepared by him. And other than his bland chicken breast, everything else is delicious.

We do our own thing during the day, especially since I have to work, but the evenings are ours. From cuddling on the couch watching movies to hours of lovemaking at night. That’s my favorite part. I always knew it would be good. Too good. Too explosive. Leaving me devastated and broken once he realizes I’m not worth it, but since we said we’d give this a year, I’m going to enjoy it as much as possible.

Even now, he’s sitting on that hideous couch waiting for me to join him. I grab the ice cream and drown it in whipped cream. He pats the spot next to him, and when I sit, he grabs one of my legs and throws it across his muscular thighs.

“When was the last time you had ice cream?” I ask just as I take a spoonful.

“It’s been years.” He looks longingly at my bowl. I put a little on a spoon and offer it to him. He eyes it, and just when I think he’s going to say no, he shrugs and puts the spoon in his mouth.

“Strawberry?” he asks. “Who eats strawberry ice cream?” I offer him more, and he greedily eats it.