Page 57 of Everything But Mine

“I don’t, and I won’t. Val will get it. Eventually.” I pause, then add, “There’s also a big reception and drinks with the speakers I have to go to—required academic schmoozing. Want to be there for me for that?”

He smirks, teasing but clearly pleased. “I’ll schmooze at yours if you schmooze at mine.”

“Deal,” I say without hesitation.

Then I remember that Simo might be there. I haven’t seen him since I left Italy over a year ago. Would Eric be this eager to schmooze with me if he knew? Would I want to sit across a table from a woman who knows Eric the way Simo knows me? A possessive feeling crawls up my spine, sharp and unwelcome. He’s never been mine, though, and I’ve never been his. He’s focused on his planner now, adding notes to his digital calendar. I shake my head and turn back to my laptop.

After another hour of work, he stands up and moves to the couch, tapping my shoulder, then tips his chin to the cushion I have my feet on. I sink into my corner and bring my legs underneath. He sits then slides close to me to show me his laptop screen. His thigh touches mine. “So. Resort rooms, or co-sleeping in a church basement?”

I smirk into my tea that he refilled a while ago. “God forbid.”

Eric pulls up the directions to Galena, and we decide to just drive straight there early Saturday and do an early check-in to take a nap. Then he scrolls through the resort’s website.

“Okay,” he says. “Option one: two queens, poolside. Perks include easy access to chlorine and other people’s kids.”

I lean in. “Yikes. Loud. Chaotic. No thanks.”

He grins. “Option two: king bed, lake view. Slightly more expensive, but comes with nature and the illusion of peace.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Illusion?”

“It’s a wedding. There will be screaming somewhere.”

I laugh, nudging his arm. “Let me see the pictures.”

He tilts the screen toward me. The room looks bright and roomy, with big windows that open to the lake. Minimalist, but warm. I can picture the early morning light flooding the space.

I sip my tea, stalling. The idea of sleeping beside him lodges in my chest like something unfinished. We’ve slept side by side before, but planning to share a bed feels different. Not sexual, exactly—though the goose bumps on my thighs aren’t fully convinced of that—but intimate in a way I’m not sure I want. Or maybe I do, and that’s the problem.

“Looks… nice,” I say.

“Nice,” he repeats, exaggerated. “Such conviction.”

I glance at him sideways. “Do you have a preference?”

He shrugs, but his fingers linger over the Book Now button. “Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

I look again at the two queens. They’re fine. Standard. Functional. A regular hotel room. But the king, with the lake and the quiet and the sense of space, feels like a treat. A choice, not a default.

“Looks like there’s a seating area,” he says. “I could sleep on the settee if it makes you more comfortable.”

“Eric, don’t be silly. You’re over six feet tall. You’d fold like an accordion on that thing. If anything, I’ll take the settee.”

He shakes his head firmly. “Absolutely not. You’re pregnant and already not sleeping well.”

“I hog the covers.”

“Hog away. I run hot. Besides, we’ll probably be exhausted,” he adds, still watching the screen, but his cheeks pinken. “We could always just go with the two queens, Amanda. I’m not freaking Diego. I don’t need a lake view.”

I pout. “I want the lake view.”

His eyes flick to mine, soft but steady. “So…”

I nod and set my mug on the coffee table. “Lake view. King bed.”

He smiles, surprised, but doesn’t question. “King bed it is.”

The room is quiet except for the faint voices of whatever came next after we half-watched a movie. I don’t even remember what we put on, and I don’t think either of us made it past the hour mark.