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I have no idea what to say to this. She seems to be implying that there’s much more to this relationship and to Devon’s feelings for me than just sex. But that isn’t really possible; he’s already told me that he’s heteroromantic, so as much as he might love being with me physically, I know I can’t expect anything more than that, even if I am starting to want it. My conversation with Natasha from earlier today comes rushing back into my brain but I shake it loose. We’re not boyfriends. We can’t be.
“So, thank you,” Millie says with a soft smile and a part of my shoulder, snapping me out of my reverie.
“For what?”
“For making Devon happy. After everything he’s done for us that’s all I really want for him.”
“Everything he’s done?”
“With helping us to get pregnant,” Millie explains. My jaw must practically hit the floor because Millie rushes to clarify, “Eww, no, not like that. He’s helping usfinancially.There’s no way we’d be able to do this without him.”
“Huh. I didn’t know that,” I muse.
“Didn’t know what?” Devon asks as he emerges from the bathroom, his hair now dry and styled as neatly as he could manage in the circumstances.
“That there was a difference between glossy and matte glazes,” I say, not entirely sure why I’m holding back.
Devon’s brows draw together in puzzlement. “You have a Visual Arts degree and you didn’t know there’s a difference between glossy and matte glazes?”
I shrug. “Guess I was sick that day.”
