I have a lawyer drafting up divorce papers for her. Even though things are good with us now and I think we both want to stay married, it feels wrong not to give her the choice. I would be okay if she wanted to get divorced and keep dating and do a real wedding down the road and even though it would crush me, I’dbe okay if she decided this was fun for now but not forever and she wants to end things. And while I truly don’t think either of those things will happen, I still want to give her the choice. She deserves that.
“Hey.” She pokes me in the stomach. “You got quiet on me.”
“Sorry.” I shake my head free of the thoughts. “Just a lot on my mind. Should we get some gelato? I know it’s not a chocolate malt but?—”
She gives an excited hop. A small wince mars her pretty face when her feet settle back on the ground. I wish I could take every little bit of pain she ever experiences and bear it myself, so she doesn’t have to deal with it.
We find a gelato shop off the beaten path and lacking with tourists so that we’re sure to get the authentic kind. I order for us and when we have our cones we head back outside so we can continue walking.
“Since when can you speak Italian?”
I shrug. “After we broke up, I had a lot of free time. I’d always been interested in learning, so I figured why not. I’m not fluent by any means, so don’t get too worked up about it.”
“You mean I can’t expect you to whisper sweet nothings in my ear later tonight?”
I laugh. “I wish, but those weren’t really covered in my classes. But I still promise to take care of my wife and tell her what a good, pretty girl she is.”
“Mm,” she hums, licking the gelato off her upper lip. “I like the sound of that even if it’s still weird to hear you call me wife.”
I wince, but she doesn’t notice. “I can stop calling you that if you want.”
She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just … you know, we didn’t do the whole proper dating again, engagement, then wedding thing so it’s a bit jarring at times.”
I nod as we walk.
And that’s exactly why I want those divorce papers drafted up.
CHAPTER 44
EBBA
“I’m fine,really. Please, go to practice.”
Fisher hovers over me like a protective mother hen. “You’ve been sick for three days now. You’re barely keeping anything down.”
“I’m fine,” I insist again. “I’ll text Sabrina and Whimsy to see if they can stay with me. This is Roland Garros. You have to be there to help Noah.”
Concern is etched into every feature of his face. “Ebba.” His voice wobbles slightly. “The last time I left you and you didn’t feel good…”
He doesn’t have to finish his sentence.
“Oh, Fisher.” I force myself to sit up and take his warm wrist between my fingers. “That’s not going to happen again. I’m just a little under the weather. This will pass. Besides, I’ve told you, it was wrong of me to put all that blame on you. You were doing your job.”
He cups my cheek, rubbing his thumb over my chin. “You matter more to me than my job.”
I put my hand over his. “I love you. I’ll be okay. I promise to call the girls.”
I can tell he still doesn’t want to leave me alone. “Okay,” he agrees with an aggravated sigh. “But I’m keeping my phone on me. Call me if you feel worse. Promise?” He holds out a pinky and I can’t help but smile at the childish gesture.
I wrap my finger around his. “Promise.”
Before he leaves, he makes me call both the girls and once he’s certain they’re on their way to keep an eye on me he finally leaves.
I heave my achy body out of bed and to the shower. I’ve barely wanted to move the past few days. The flu, or whatever travel bug I’ve come down with, has whooped my ass. I don’t take as long of a shower as I normally would. Instead, I focus on cleaning my body and getting out as quickly as I can. Exfoliating, shaving, and all of that will have to wait until my muscles aren’t so sore.
I’m changing into a fresh pair of pajama bottoms and top when there’s a soft knock at the door.
I open it to find Sabrina and Whimsy with a tray of food and drinks.
