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It begins with a thoughtful tilt of my head and narrowing of my eyes. Then I have to deliberate with myself. “Hmmm,” I say, tapping my forefinger to my chin. And then a sudden revelation is needed to drive the performance home.
This time I go with, “You know, babe, I think you’ve really nailed it this time. The composition instantly uplifts the whole room.”
I look over to her and have to bite back a laugh. Because Emily’s glaring at me, hands on her hips, looking unimpressed.
“The composition instantly uplifts the whole room?” She’s eyeing me suspiciously.
“Yes, exactly.”
“Oh, okay, I just wanted to double check. Because the one I showed you a minute ago also instantly uplifted the whole room,” she says, using her fingers to air quote the last part.
Crap.
My perfect art just got busted.
I start laughing, but Emily doesn’t seem to find it funny at all from the way she’s scowling at me. The look on her face just makes me laugh harder. She’s so cute when she gets this way. It makes my heart melt.
“Aw, babe, I’m sorry,” I say, tossing the paper aside and going over to her, arms outstretched. “Come here.”
She slaps my hands away. “No. Leave me alone.”
I ignore her over-emphasized pouting and pull her into me. She pretends to struggle, but I know she likes it. She’s already told me my arms are her favorite place to be.
“Look, I love that you’re putting all this effort into making our home beautiful.”
This gets her to give up the act, and she looks up at me with a broad smile on her face. “Our home,” she says, wistfully. “I’m still not used to the sound of that.”
“Well, you better get there fast, because this is how it’s going to be from now on.”
I place a soft kiss on her lips and she hums her pleasure. There’s a second where it feels like this is going to be one of those kisses that could lead to something more, but my excitement is bulldozed by the sound of shrill ringing.
Emily groans and steps out of my arms to go answer her phone.
“Ignore it,” I call after her, but she’s already answering.
“Hi, Mom,” she says, rolling her eyes.
She walks through to the kitchen to take the call, making the motion of a knife slicing her throat as she comes by me. I smile, but a twinge of guilt coils in my belly, and when Emily disappears into the kitchen, my face drops the fake smile instantly.
The phone calls from her mother come regularly, and I’ve overheard Emily lie countless times about where she’s staying and who she’s with. I know it bugs her, even though she hasn’t said as much.
And to make things worse, it’s my fault.
I was the one who promised her that things would work out. But it’s been more than a month and we’ve made no progress in that department. Now, Trevor isn’t the only one we’re hiding from and it sucks. When that phone rings and it’s her mother, it sucks even more.
All this secrecy is like a black cloud hanging low over the indescribable bliss we’ve found in each other. If I’m honest with myself, it’s the one thing keeping me from actually moving off the sidewalk and going into Tiffany’s.
Going in and buying the engagement ring I’ve been staring at through the window every day for a week.
“You know what I hate?” Emily comes back into the living room and tosses her phone on the couch.
I scramble to hide any evidence of my thoughts that might be on my face and shrug. “The patriarchy?”
She gives me a look, the one I’ve grown accustomed to getting whenever I make stupid comments. “No, dummy. I mean, yes, of course I hate the patriarchy. But also I hate how whenever she calls—”
“Your mom?”
Emily nods. “When she calls, it just reminds me of something.”
