Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
“We’re certainly together more now than we were when we were both working,” he argued. “This is just one of those challenges that come along with having such a wide age difference. It was always going to be that I was retiring while you were still working, whether it was at fifty or at sixty-five.”
“Yeah.” That didn’t mean I had to like it. “I just feel guilty. People are depending on their jobs, and I’m running off, doing whatever. We have our honeymoon coming up—”
“We are not going to cut our honeymoon short,” he warned. “I desperately need sand. And cold drinks.”
I gave him a minute to correct himself.
“Or not, I suppose, if therapy continues to go well.”
“Iced tea?”
“Sophie, that’s disgusting,” he admonished.
“I’m not going to cut our vacation short. But I am going to be spending more time here, I think.” My lower lip wobbled. I was tired and over-emotional. This was the worst time to talk about this.
“Are you going to cry?” he asked gently.
I wiped my eyes with the heels of my hands, remembering my eye makeup a fraction of a second too late. He came to my side and turned me to cradle my head against his shoulder.
“A few nights apart won’t hurt us. Perhaps you can make it a point to come home on weekends, and I’ll come here a couple of times a week. We could always close the house up and move back here temporarily—”
“No!” I stepped back and swatted furious tears from my cheeks. “No. We just spent millions of dollars on that place. And it feels like home now. This place does, too, but our house… That’s just ours.”
“This place is ‘just ours’ as well.” He looked genuinely confused that I didn’t feel the same way.
Ugh, I hated having to explain things that made me sound jealous. “It’s not, though. This is the home that you established with Elizabeth. You guys picked out this furniture and the…the freaking crown molding.” I pressed my fingers to my temple. “Don’t get me wrong, I like staying here. I’m comfortable here. But it’s never going to be home to me in the way that our house is, because we didn’t do this together.”
“I hesitate to suggest this, with a very expensive wedding coming up—”
“No, no.” We didn’t need the added stress of a remodel or redecorating, which I was sure he was going to suggest.
He finished his sentence over the top of mine. “—but we could sell this place and buy another. Something not so posh as a Fifth Avenue address?”
Okay. So, the whole “remodel” thing sounded a lot better now. “You know, why don’t we just redecorate, like normal people?”
His raised eyebrows were a dead giveaway that he had not thought it through. “If that’s what you’d like to do, I’m sure we could manage it. If you don’t feel your plate is too full.”
“No, it’ll be fine.” I already had some thoughts for the foyer. It looked like a damn hotel. “Let’s do your plan. We’ll spend some time here, some at the house. I wanted to start this magazine, and I’m not going to throw it away to be attached to your hip.”
“You know that once Olivia is born, I’ll be looking for any excuse to come to the city, anyway.” He pulled me close again and kissed the top of my head. “This isn’t an insurmountable obstacle, darling.”
It wasn’t, he was right. It was just a super bummer at the moment.
“Hey,” he said softly, giving me a squeeze. “I’m here tonight. And we have all that pornography…”
I smiled against his chest. “I’m really tired. Can we just get off next to each other?”
“Would I turn down a chance to watch you masturbate?” He stepped back and looked down at me. “There. Now, you’re smiling.”
I sniffed and rummaged in the silverware drawer for a spoon to check my reflection in. I wiped gingerly at a streak of black liner on my lower lid.
Neil leaned his shoulder against the refrigerator and watched me. “We’re going to be fine, Sophie. The magazine took off, but you’re still getting your feet under you. It’s going to take some time, but I’m not worried about you. And I’m not worried about us.”
“Thank you.” I cleared my suddenly hoarse throat.
Damn, he could probably tell I was getting all weepy again. At least, this time, it was for a happy reason.
* * * *
It was strange how easily having my mom with us became routine. As her emergency leave wore on, it had become increasingly clear to me that she probably wouldn’t go back to Calumet, and I was fine with that. After she moved into the guest house, that is. It had been tense with her living in the house with us, popping up at inopportune moments as though she were consciously trying to interrupt any time Neil and I had to spend together. The weird thing was, she seemed genuinely unaware that she was doing it at all.