Page 123 of Breakout
“We might not win,” she reminds me.
“Screw that. Let’s dream as if we do. Tell me.”
Her nose crinkles as she relaxes back in my arms. “I think so. At least for now. It’s kind of nice knowing that someone is there taking care of the place when I can’t be.”
“True, and he seems like a good guy.”
The corners of her lips tip up. “He sent me a text the other day asking if I had any preference when it came to landscapingflowers. I guess he was getting ready to meet with the gardener and wanted to make sure I would be happy with what he chose.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him to do whatever he wanted. Honestly, that’s too much money for my blood,” she says, making me laugh.
I can just imagine her now, this time next year, sitting down with a landscaper, trying to decide what she wants the garden to look like. The image is so unlike her that it’s funny.
“I’m glad that you find it so amusing,” she says with humor in her voice.
“I’m sorry, I just can’t picture you doing that kind of shit.”
“Because it’s not normal.”
“Oh, trust me, it’s normal for rich people. My mom does it every year, and I’ve never understood it.”
“That’s insane.”
“It is. It really is. Seriously, though, are you going to spend the summer at the estate?”
“I don’t know. I probably should. I honestly haven’t thought about it.”
“You don’t have to work as hard as you usually do anymore either.”
She sighs. “That’s going to take some getting used to, that’s for sure.”
“You’ll be fine.”
“I know.” She takes a deep breath. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”
I kiss the side of her head. “It’s nice of you to say that, but that’s not true. Where there is a will, there is a way.”
“Don’t downplay the role you play in my life, Beck. You’re the hero in my story, and you should own it.”
As nice as it is being her hero, I want to be more. Now that this is all over, I just have to figure out a way to convince her that this shouldn’t end.
This was never fake. At least for me. The question is, does my wife feel that way too?I know she’s said she loves me while intoxicated, but did she mean it? Because she sure hasn’t said it again, and it’s killing me.
twenty-seven
“Welcome home, Ms. Anderson,” Jeeves says as he opens the door.
“Thank you.”
“Do you need anything?”
“I’m good. I’m going to be in the office.”
He smiles at me sympathetically. “Take your time. I’m here if you need me.”
“Thank you.”
