Page 88 of Revelation

“I like it. Thank you.” I take another sip. “Ooph. That’s a strong drink.”

“Go big or go home, I always say.” He winks. “Come on, PG. Let’s go chill out in the living room.”

24

KAT

We amble out of the kitchen, drinks in hand, into the living room—and I settle myself onto the black leather couch while Josh chooses some music for our listening pleasure.

“So how long have your parents been married?” Josh asks, fiddling with his laptop.

“Thirty years this August.”

He looks up from what he’s doing, obviously astonished. “Wow. That’s crazy.”

“Yeah. Pretty crazy.”

A song begins playing through Josh’s sound system—a male vocalist backed by an acoustic guitar.

“What is this?” I ask, somewhat surprised by Josh’s song selection. I’d have pegged him to play us something with a thumping beat.

“James Bay,” he says. “‘Scars.’ Jonas had it on the other day when I was with him in New York and it slayed me. I bought the guy’s whole album on the spot and every song is phenomenal.” Josh sits down next to me and puts his hand on my thigh. “This James Bay guy sings with his soul.”

“That’s a great description.”

Josh sips his drink and listens to the music for a moment. “So, thirty years, huh? Are your parents happily married?”

I’m shocked he’s asking questions about my family. “Definitely,” I say, my skin suddenly buzzing.

“Even afterthirtyyears?”

“Well, I’m sure they’ve both wanted to murder each other more than once over the years. But, yeah, they’re still totally in love. Moreso than ever, I think. I like being around them—they’re nice to each other. They still laugh at each other’s jokes.”

“Wow.” He looks deep in thought.

I take a deep breath. I shouldn’t ask the question rolling around in my head—I really shouldn’t. But I can’t help myself. “So, are you gonna be like Reed, you think? Are you gonna ride off into the sunset alone and unencumbered by messy human emotion?”

Josh looks taken aback by my question. “Uh, wow.” He makes a weird face. “Is that what Reed said? I didn’t interpret it quite that way.” He makes a face. “But, um, yeah,I don’t really envision myself getting married,if that’s what you’re asking.”

I sip my drink. Why did I just ask him that? I really didn’t need to hear him say that so starkly, even if I already knew that’s what he’d say.

“I don’t have anything against marriage, mind you,” Josh continues. “I’m totally happy for your parents if it works for them—kind of in awe of them, actually—I just don’t see the logical point of marriage as an institution,” he continues. “I mean, if you wanna be with someone, be with them. If you don’t, then leave. No need to get a piece of paper from the government that forces you to stay if you’d rather go.”

I sip my drink quietly, listening to the music, wishing I could rewind time and un-ask the question. If I were my own life coach, I’d be slapping myself across the face right now and shouting, “Fucking idiot!”

“You disagree with me?” he asks, studying my face.

“No,” I say. I sip my drink. “I most certainly donotdisagree.” I really, really should leave it at that. Definitely. That would be the wise thing to do.

“But?” he prompts.

“No ‘but.’ I don’t disagree with youin conceptone little bit.” I sip my drink again. Damn, that’s a strong drink. And, damn, I wish I hadn’t asked Josh about marriage of all things, for crying out loud. I’m truly an idiot, not to mention quite possibly a masochist, too.

“But?” he repeats.

“But...” I say, drawing out the word. Oh hell. Keeping a lid on every frickin’ thought that flashes into my head isn’t my strong suit, especially when it comes to Joshua William Faraday. “Butwatchingmy parents through the years—the way they’ve stuck it out through thick and thin and how strong they are because of it—how strong our whole family is because of it—I think there’s a bit more to marriage than just, you know, ‘I can’t leave your sorry ass because that goddamned piece of paper forces me to stay.’” My cheeks burst with color. Why am I saying all this? “But,” I continue, trying to appease the shrieking voice inside my head telling me to press the eject button, “I definitely hear you—marriage certainly isn’t for everyone.” I clear my throat. “I’m not sure it’s for me, honestly. I was just saying it’s worked out well for my parents.” Oh God. I wish I could jump into a time machine, go back to three minutes ago, and say, without elaboration or qualification, “Oh, I totally agree. One hundred percent.”

Josh makes a face I can’t interpret. “Maybe marriagemightmake sense for people who want to have kids.”

---