So I make enough coffee for both of us but pull out electrolytes and one of her water bottles from the cabinets, too (Scottie brought in twelve yesterday. They take up an entire shelf.). I set it all down by the fridge, where the filtered water is, in case she wants one.
And then I pull out a pen and paper to write a note.
And stop.
Who writes a note to his wife the day after they get married? Sure, we’re not leaving on our “honeymoon” yet, because she has her meeting with the town council today where they’re planning to drop the residency bomb on her.
And sure, it ain’t that kind of marriage.
But still. I’m not the guy who writes a note for his wife and then goes for a run.
No sir.
Instead, I wait for her. I pull out my phone to see a text from my brother.
PATTY
How was the wedding night?
And by that, I clearly mean sleeping on the couch while the woman you have feelings for sleeps in your bed. Without you.
SEAN
Shut up.
PATTY
Does she know you want to date her?
SEAN
I married her.
PATTY
I repeat: does she know you want to date her?
SEAN
No.
How do I start that conversation? Hey, I know I asked you to marry me so you wouldn’t get kicked out of town, but I actually had ulterior motives. But I’m not a creep, I swear.
PATTY
Not like that. That’s a terrible approach.
SEAN
Your face is a terrible approach.
PATTY
Good luck, bro.
I move on to other messages. My parents, teammates, friends, including Fletch.
I read and respond to texts until Kayla comes out of the bedroom. She’s … also wearing workout gear. She’s in leggings and a cropped tank top, with her hair up in a high ponytail that somehow makes her look both casual and CEO-material at the same time. How does she manage to make spandex look like luxury wear?
