“Maybe we should hold off on moving back in together.”
His eyebrows twitch toward each other. “I’ll be honest, I don’t like that, but if that’s what you think is best, we’ll do it.”
“I think I still want to sell the house. Would you be okay with that?”
He inclines his head. And thinks. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “I’m okay with it. I didn’t expect to ever live there again anyway.”
“We could find somewhere else… together.”
“Yeah. You could move in with me in my apartment.”
I blink. “Uh… that’s a possibility.”
“You haven’t even seen it.”
“True.”
“I’m kidding. It’s small. One bedroom, and that bedroom barely fits my bed, let alone anything else.”
“Why are you living in such a small place?”
He shrugs. “It was the right neighborhood and I could move in right away. I don’t care what it looks like.”
And I was living in our five-bedroom, four-bathroom house with a three-car garage. This makes me sad.
“I feel bad,” I tell him. “That’s not fair. You let me have the house and you pay me lots of spousal support.”
“I just wanted you to be okay.” He meets my eyes. “I’d do anything for you, Ayla.”
My heart squeezes, then swells up.
We’ve finished our brunch, the table has been cleared, and the bill is sitting there.
“Ready to go?” Carson asks.
“Yep.”
He gestures to the server and takes care of the bill and we walk back to my place where we left his car. I’m bundled up in a puffy jacket and a big scarf; the temperature’s barely above freezing, but the sun is bright.
As we walk up the sidewalk to the front door, I say, “My therapist told me I should have sex with other men.”
Carson stops dead and stares down at me. “What the fuck.”
“I was talking to her about why I was still so attracted to you.” I keep walking and climb the steps to the door. He’s right behind me.
“And that’s what she told you to do?” His voice rises with incredulity.
“Well, sort of. First, she said to create some distance between us. That was kind of hard when we were sharing a cottage.” I unlock the door and step inside.
“Uh, yeah.”
He follows and closes the door.
I unwrap my scarf. “And she said to… I think her exact words were to relearn who am I as a sexual person without you.”
“Fuck.” He moves closer. “Did you do that?”
I take off my jacket. “Sort of.”
