Page 37 of Seale the Deal

Oh. Right. Yeah.

He moves toward the fridge, grabs two bottles of water, and hands me one.

You can do whatever you like, he says, motioning vaguely to the living room. I’ve got Netflix, Prime, Disney+, even BritBox if you like accents. Remote’s probably somewhere on the couch.

A smile tugs at my lips. Thanks.

He nods, awkward in a way that makes him more endearing than he probably wants to be.

Then, right before he leaves, he pauses in the doorway and glances back. Just don’t mess with any of my partially watched true crime shows. I have a flow.

My eyes widen. Wait… you’re a true crime guy?

His expression is almost sheepish. Documentaries only. Can’t do the dramatized stuff.

Nope, same. Can’t handle fake detectives holding flashlights under their chins. Feels disrespectful to the real cases.

A quiet huff of amusement leaves him.

What? I ask.

He shrugs lightly. Nothing. Just starting to see what Remi meant.

My stomach flutters.

About what?

About you being easy to be around.

My lips part.

It’s not that I thought Ruger didn’t like me, but to hear him say that he finds me easy to be around is so different from the last man I lived with. And this isn’t even a real relationship.

But don’t tell her I said that she’s right.

Then, before I can respond, he disappears down the hallway with a mumbled good night.

I sit there for a second, processing everything.

This whole day didn’t go like I expected at all. If anything, I’m surprised Bonnie didn’t call us out on our lie the moment we couldn’t even agree on how long we’d been together. Yet somehow, we managed to stumble through it. And I can’t lie. I didn’t hate the feel of his arm around me.

I pad into the living room, pick up the remote, and flop onto the couch.

Sure enough, Ruger’s Netflix profile is riddled with half-watched true crime shows. I scroll through, having watched most of them. I then settle on one I’ve watched before and loved but isn’t in Ruger’s list of half-watched shows.

I settle deeper into the couch, the sounds of the documentary filling the quiet house while Ruger moves around upstairs, floorboard creaking beneath his steps. I smile to myself because even with the added complications today and all the chaos, this arrangement is going to be okay.

Chapter 5

Ruger

DAYS LEFT ON VISA: 83

Around day four, Wrenley and I start to find a routine. I leave for shifts at the conservation office while she’s still asleep, pouring some of the coffee I make into a thermos so it’s still hot when she wakes up. I know Remi has been coming over when she can. She writes while Wrenley sews. I always come home to find Wrenley spread across my living room couch with some sewing project.

The house feels less like somewhere I come between shifts or rotations or camping trips and more like somewhere people actually live. But the biggest thing that hits me every time I see her work is that while her ex may have burned her career to the ground, he never managed to take the passion that built it in the first place. It makes it easier to know I’m doing the right thing by helping her get a green card.

It’s my day off, and after being unsure of what Wrenley survived on while I was at work, I decide I want to make her an actual breakfast.