Katrina continues to frown. “Well, that sounds great, but…it’s your anniversary.”
I shrug. “It’s important to him.”
“You’re a great wife, you know that?” Katrina continues eating. “I’d be a nightmare.”
I smile and dig into my curry, wondering when Katrina will meet someone and settle down. She always claims she’s too busy with work—and I guess that’s true to an extent, but she’s just beautiful inside and out. She deserves love and happiness. Doesn’t everyone?
“You’d be a great wife.”
Katrina snorts. “I’d be a psycho, and you know it. Remember Teddy?”
I grin and then collapse into helpless laughter. “That guy was…”
“Something else, right?”
“Onlyyoucould scare a biker, Katrina.”
She throws her head back, laughing. “He was with another girl at the bar, Jade! Seriously! He told me his mom was sick.”
“Lying prick.”
“So, he deserved it,” Katrina adds with a nod.
Katrina had keyed a message into his bike: ‘Hope she was worth the ride.’ Then watched from the bar opposite when he saw it, losing his shit. Remind me never to piss her off.
“Did he ever reach out to you again?” I question, polishing off my food. I was hungrier than I realized.
Katrina laughs. “Fuck, no. I blocked his number.”
I shake my head and glance at my phone. I thought Devon might have contacted me by now. I try to ignore the anxiety uncurling in my stomach and focus on Katrina.
“So, how’s the book going? Or is it just dead?”
“It hasn’t even breathed yet,” I tell her with a groan, pushing my plate away.
The smell of Indian food fills the air. “I tried, I swear I did. But nothing happened. It’s like there’s no creativity left in my body.”
Katrina tilts her head, scraping the last of the food onto her spoon.
“Romance is so popular because we don’t fucking get any.” She waves her spoon at the TV. “That’s why we need inspiration from fiction to create fiction. It makes zero sense. I hate men.”
“They’re not all bad.” I refill our wine.
“Oh yeah? What’s the most romantic thing Devon has done for you?” Katrina demands to know, and I frown, thinking.
“Well, he proposed to me using my favorite book as a box.”
Katrina pauses. “Right, okay, but other than that?”
I knit my brows together, thinking. Romance tends to take a backseat when you’ve been together a while, I guess.
“He gets me flowers sometimes.”
“Like, on your anniversary? Or your birthday?”
I shake my head. “No, not just on occasions. Sometimes he will just buy them on a Saturday morning because they reminded him of me.”
“Well, fuck. Maybe you got the last good one.” Katrina stacks our plates and carries them into the kitchen. “When is he back?”
