I kiss him softly. “I love you too, Devon.”
But I can’t help but feel disappointed that I’ll be spending our fifth wedding anniversary alone.
I don’t need to drive him to the airport because his colleague is picking him up on Friday afternoon.
“Are you all set for a weekend of writing?” Devon grins down at me, ruffling my hair. He’s dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans, but he looks like he’s modeling for a big designer with his ripped body and chiseled jaw.
“I guess,” I respond, frowning at my laptop over on the dining table. It’s currently gathering dust.
“Maybe it’ll be your bestseller,” Devon remarks, leaning down to pick up his bag.
It’s a dark leather one I bought him for Christmas. At least he’s finally using it.
“Maybe,” I reply flatly.
“Hey, come here.” Devon pulls me close and kisses the top of my head. “I love you even more for understanding how important this is. If I want to branch out on my own, this is the way to do it. This guy started at the bottom?—”
I can’t help but smile at his boyish energy. He loves being a personal trainer, but he longs to have his own company. It’s been difficult: me writing and holding down a bar job, and him working at a gym downtown. We barely see one another.
“I know,” I tell him, forcing a smile. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
He searches my face. “Are you sure, baby?”
God, I love this man.
“Of course. When you’ve got your own business, I can quit my job and write full time.”
He beams, and it’s worth the white lie that I’m okay with him being so far away from me on our anniversary.
“The minute I can afford it, you can. You’ll be a kept woman.”
He kisses me on the lips, holding me close like he’s committing me to memory or something. A horn honks outside, and I stiffen.
Thisis it. He’s leaving.
“See you in five days,” I say, forcing a smile as he gazes at me.
“I’ll miss you, you gorgeous woman.”
My stomach flutters when he winks at me, pulling open the front door. He stops before it closes, sighing as he leans against the doorframe.
“I fucking love you.”
I bite my lip and wave him off. “I love you too.”
Then the door closes, and I’m alone.
The house always feels bigger when Devon isn’t here. We bought a three-bedroom house because we both wanted to have kids in the future, and I needed an office to write in.
Ha.
I don’t even write at the dining table, let alone use the office,I think guiltily.How am I going to write a bestseller if I don’t even open the goddamn laptop?
I glance at my watch. I have the evening to myself as I’m working tomorrow night. It’s my anniversary, but the last thing I want to do is spend it writing a romance book on my own.
I make myself a coffee while I watch my neighbor across the street ferry her kids into the house. They’re messing around, shoving one another as their backpacks slide around on their backs, their empty juice bottles dropping to the ground. Their mom yells at them to go inside, but then as she opens the door the dog escapes, and then the kids are chasing the dog.
I can’t help but laugh, imagining Devon and me chasing our kids and a dog around the front lawn, just trying to get into the house.
