Page 67 of The Marriage Rebound

Sasha made final tweaks to the arrangement, and then disappeared upstairs, returning with her laptop just as I finished making my sandwich. She shifted her weight from side to side as she hugged the computer to her chest. “Do you still wanna get to know me?”

I couldn’t resist taking another long inhale of the roses, their fragrant scent bringing me an immense level of joy. “Hell yeah.” I settled on the couch, kicking my feet up on the ottoman. “What we starting with?”

She strolled to the back door, opening it for a whining Vuitton. “I haven’t looked over it a whole lot, to be honest. But I wanted to revisit us talking about the finances.”

“Uh, a’ight.”

Sasha dropped her computer onto a cushion, but didn’t sit. Instead, she paced in small circles with me and Vuitton watching her movements. She blew out a heavy breath before she started speaking. “I understand what you said about the away games. I really do, but I’m still gonna feel my feelings about things. There’s no gettin’ around that. It’s who I am, but I’m goin’ to work on it.”

I chewed slowly, to keep myself from jumping in, letting her get out whatever she had to say.

“I don’t think about the bills, Courtney. I’ve never had to since we’ve been together. You take care of everythin’, and I don’t ever have to worry because I trust in you. But it shouldn’t have to all be on your shoulders.”

This time I did butt in, sitting up from my relaxed position. “I have it handled.”

She stopped moving and faced me head on. “I know you do. But as I look around the house and, in our closet, which is mostly my stuff . . . when you were gone, I sat in our closet and had a bit of an aha moment. I wasn’t seein’ past what I wanted in the moment. It’s my comfort zone. It’s the things that I’m used to gettin’. Things made me feel better.”

She dropped down beside me.

“But they were a temporary fix. Things filled the void when my folks weren’t there and so when you’d leave . . .” Sasha looked down at her nails, pretending to closely examine the detailed snowflake designs.

Well, shit. All this time I believed Sasha simply had a shopping habit. When I met her, she’d made good money dancing and handled her own, which is why I’d made it my mission to ensure she could continue living her lifestyle. Her extra spikes in shopping when I’d go away for games I’d just chalked up to spite.

Learning that it had more to do with her having some sort of separation anxiety made me feel like shit for getting pissed at her. I sat up and placed my plate on the ottoman then pressed a kiss to her shoulder. “Baby, I’m sorry. I truly didn’t think me being gone affected you so deeply. I just brushed it off as you being—”

“Dramatic.”

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Uh, I mean.”

She laughed. “It’s okay. I probably was at times.”

“You were so independent when we met. I just never considered.”

“That I’d be clingy?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but kinda, yeah.”

She intertwined her fingers with mine. “I guess I had to be independent out of necessity in the same way you had to. But in reality, I’m just a girl who wants to be with her girl.”

“Fair enough.”

“I want us to have more time, like we’ve had since you’ve been home.”

I understood the sentiment, although a good chunk of the time we’d spent together hadn’t been quality—but I kept that thought to myself and simply nodded. She was having a real moment of insight, clarity. We were having a real productive conversation, and I didn’t want to derail it by pointing out the negatives.

“So, you’re tellin’ me that you’re A-okay with having my ass around and not the latest designer whatever?” I arched a brow and tried to keep my tone playful.

Sasha narrowed her eyes and twisted her lips into a half smile. “Don’t get it twisted, your wife is always gonna want the presents.”

“Noted.”

She rested her head on my shoulder. It was nice to sit in the silence for a few minutes. No trying to talk over or at each other. No frustration. I didn’t have the desire to run from the conversation or give in just to get it over with. It was a peaceful moment, until Sasha’s spoiled beast decided to climb his jealous ass into my lap. Since the accident, he’d been extra clingy with me, which I didn’t understand. He nudged his head under my hand a few times until I started petting him.

“See, even Vuitton likes havin’ you here.”

“He just likes people to do his bidding.” As if to prove my point, he rolled onto his back, stretching his tiny body while he waited for belly rubs.

“Tell her that’s not true. You love havin’ Momma home with us.” She also rubbed his belly and he just laid there, body limp, tongue out as he enjoyed all the attention. “And she know she loves you. She just tryin’ to be a hard-ass.”