Page 111 of Rebound
My dad’s never gotten my mother flowers in all the years they’ve been married. If you ask him why, he’ll probably go off on a tangent about flowers dying and being useless.
My personal favorites that I’ve heard over the years are “she knows what she does for me, I don’t need to buy her flowers” followed closely by “I pay for everything, she doesn’t need flowers along with it”.
Shit sorry, didn’t mean to trauma dump on text.
Our parents are polar opposites. Dad raised us to believe that Mom is superwoman. He was raised by a single mother, and Grandma Liz has always been adamant that if a man can’t understand that a woman should get, at the very least, equal respect in a relationship for doing twice the heavy lifting than that man doesn’t deserve her.
For a long time, I thought I found it with Josh, only to find out he never respected me. I’m not sure if he even liked me.
Lavinia
You don’t have to apologize. You can tell me anything, anytime and I’ll always listen. I want to know you.
Roman
Baby, if a stranger on the street wants to tell you their sad tale, you’ll stop and listen to them, too.
Lavinia
You’re not a stranger on the street. We’re married, for better or worse. You’re my husband.
Roman
Are you asserting your wifely rights on me?
Lavinia
Yes, I am. Prepare to be sick of me.
Roman
That’s never going to happen.
I change out of my leggings into another pair of leggings—much cleaner and nicer—and pull on an old Mercer University sweatshirt. After touching up my make-up, I leave the room and find Jules accepting another delivery.
“More deliveries from Roman?” Jules asks. One of them is a cake box, so I assume it’s from him. I remove the card on top and open the envelope.
Something to celebrate reaching four million followers. I know it’s your favorite. -J
I cringe with revulsion and drop the card on the island as if it’s covered in rabies.
“Is he serious?!” Jules reads the card over my shoulder. “Why the hell is he sending you cake?”
“I don’t know. Maybe to sow seeds of contention between my husband and me? Josh doesn’t know I married Roman, remember?”
I still haven’t posted Roman on my socials, and he hasn’t posted me either. To be fair, Roman doesn’t post on his socials, at all. The last thing he posted was from the past playoffs. I haven’t posted him because that’s my professional life and I want to keep it separate as much as I can, other than the “official” announcement I made with my wedding rings.
Jules is eyeing the cake distrustfully. “Do you think it’s poisoned?”
It probably isn’t, but I’m not going to eat it. Now that I’ve had time and distance, I’m starting to understand Josh. He didn’t send me my favorite cake. He sent meacake to make me feel small by essentially calling me big.
“What’s in the other envelope?”
Jules shrugs. “Looks official.” She holds it up for me. “Addressed to Lavinia Callahan Maddox.”
I take it from her and tear it open, hoping it’s not another unpleasant gift from Josh. Did he find out somehow that Roman and I are married? But no, it’s a shiny black credit card with my name on it. My married name.
“Oh, cute!” Jules coos. “It matches the one your Dad gave you on your eighteenth birthday.”
