She pointed out the window at the sky-rise where I used to live, and said, “Wave at your old bachelor pad.”
I chuckled, following her instructions.
“Do you miss it?” she asked.
“No,” I said, “I was never there enough for it to ever really feel like home. And now? Home is where you are.”
She smiled, reaching out to hold my hand. I caught her hand, holding it with both of mine. Her wedding ring shimmered on her finger.
“Can I admit something?” she asked.
“Of course,” I said.
She bit her bottom lip and then said, “I honestly expected that you would push for a more expensive home after a few years together.”
I shrugged. “I know how happy our place makes you, so it never really felt too small to me. It kind of felt like my home growing up.”
She squeezed my hand. “You know, maybe now that the kids are moving out and getting older, we could go for something with a little more glitz and glam. They’re not so destructive anymore.”
I raised my eyebrows at her, “Who are you and what have you done with my wife?”
She chuckled, “You know, we could get a pool, or at least live in a neighborhood with a pool. That would be nice, not having to go to the public pool anymore.”
“I'll buy one tomorrow,” I said, totally serious.
“Tomorrow?” Her eyes were wide.
“I mean, what did you think was going to happen?” I said. “I want to give you everything, Farrah. Everything you want.”
She tilted her head thoughtfully as she drove, making her curls fall over her shoulder. “I want to home shop. Like actually go to a house and walk through it and see how it feels and imagine it could be ours one day.”
“Okay,” I said, already getting out my phone to text a realtor friend. “We'll do it.”
She smiled. “Yay.”
“Does that mean you’ll tell me where we’re going?” I asked.
She laughed. “Not too much longer.”
2
FARRAH
I putthe van in park and watched my husband’s expressions as he took in our destination. He was just as handsome as ever, even if he had a few more lines at the corners of his eyes and his jaw, and his hair was more gray than blonde now. As with most men, he only got better with age, looking more dignified but also more friendly, somehow softened by time and the years we spent together.
There was a soft smile on his lips as he looked from the building back to me. “What are we doing here?”
Even though The Retreat is where we both worked when we fell in love, we hadn't been here in years. Griffen Industries no longer owned it–the business had been acquired by a major hotel group several years prior.
But I said, “The hotel group reached out and asked if I would be interested in a redesign of The Retreat. They liked the original so much but said it's becoming a little dated and it's time for a refresh.”
Gage’s jaw lowered like he was genuinely surprised. “Farrah, that's amazing. Congratulations. Are you going to take the job?”
“I can't not, right?” I said with a nostalgic smile.
Interior design was my first love, and I’d continued picking up projects throughout the years, even though being with Gage, I never really had a need to work for money. After leaving my ex, I promised myself that I would never be helpless again. I wanted to have a career, something I could fall back on in case anything happened. Something that was just mine.
Gage took a breath and said, “That's exciting, but it feels like the end of an era.”
