Page 82 of Don't Tell

"A tree, Renée. A regular tree with leaves."

"You’re doing this on purpose."

I am, partially.

I'm also, partially, doing it because I don’t have the language for the kitchen yet. The kitchen has a marble island, a six-burner stove, and a window over the sink that looks out at the bay. My four boxes of books are stacked along the wall by the pantry door because I haven’t figured out where my books go in a house this size. The boxes have been there for a couple of days. I have been walking past them on purpose.

"Tell me one true thing about the kitchen."

"It has a six-burner stove."

"What?"

"Six burners, Renée. You should see it."

"Have you used six burners?"

"I have used one."

She cackles. "And the bed?"

"Renée. It's king-sized."

"Of course, it's a king size, Suz. The man is a billionaire. No one is paying for this house in tens. Have you slept in it?"

"Obviously. I live here now."

"Is he a morning person or an evening person?"

"Why?"

"Asking for science."

"Both."

"Both?"

"I have to go."

"Tell me one more thing."

"What?"

"You sound happy. I just want to make sure I’m hearing what I’m hearing."

I’m quiet for a beat. "You're hearing what you're hearing."

"Don't let anyone screw it up, including you."

"I won't."

"I mean it."

"Renée."

"Okay. I love you."

"I love you. I — wait. I told you I would do it, and I did it."