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This afternoon, Remy met up with Flynn and the twins for story time at the library. Frankly, the two of them have been making it a monthly thing these days.
And while I would’ve loved to join in on the fun, especially since seeing Flynn wrangle his one-year-old boys is a riot, I woke up with a migraine that felt like a semitruck had parked itself in my skull, and I had the horrible pleasure of throwing up a couple of times. I even had to get Daniel to take over the one and only showing I had this morning.
Remy: Actually, there’s a kids’ fair in Midtown, so we’re going to hang out here for a bit.
Me: That sounds like trouble. And for the love of God, we don’t need any more goldfish.
Last time Remy and Flynn went to a carnival, he came back with goldfish that we ended up giving to Lexi when she noticed we weren’t taking care of them to the proper standards. I always thought that if the fish was alive, you were doing it right, but now I know better. The water needs a certain temperature and pH level and all sorts of things Lexi is a whole lot better equipped to give. Mind you, Winnie wasn’t that thrilled.
Remy: So, let’s say I happen to accidentally win some goldfish and I’m forced to bring them home, what kind of trouble will that bring me?
Me: The bad kind of trouble.
Remy: Like, hot and dirty bad?
Me: REMY. NO GOLDFISH.
Remy: And bunny rabbits? How do you feel about them?
Me: REMY. NO ANIMALS OF ANY KIND.
Remy: Love you, Ria.
I roll my eyes at him. And then I tell him exactly that.
Me: I love you too *rolls eyes*
Remy: *smiles at you even though you’re rolling your eyes at me because I love you even when you’re rolling your eyes at me*
Me: LOL. Go run Daddy Day Care, crazy man. I’ll see you when you get home.
My husband is insane. I swear. But hell if he doesn’t make me laugh out loud.
And yes, that’s right, my husband. As of four months ago, I am officially Remy’s wife. Though, considering we got married on a whim without telling anyone, our family is still a little pissed off at us.
It was one Sunday afternoon when Lexi had stayed with us the night before, and Remy just looked at me while we were sitting on the couch watching Lexi play with Izzy and said, “Let’s get married today.”
So, we did. With Izzy as my Daughter of Honor and Lexi as Remy’s Best Niece, we said “I do” at the courthouse. Just me, Remy, Izzy, and Lexi in attendance.
Normally, you can’t get married at the courthouse on a Sunday, but it definitely helped that Remy does investments for the mayor and could also guarantee Mavericks’ fifty-yard-line game tickets to the justice of the peace who ended up coming in on his day off.
It might seem crazy to have done it that way, but with Ty and Rachel’s wedding on the horizon, we didn’t know when we’d get to do it the big way, and we didn’t want to wait.
And I still think it was the best idea we’ve ever had.
When I realize it’s nearing noon, I decide to get my ass out of bed and take a shower so I can start preparing the food for tonight. Ever since Remy and I decided to sell our apartments and buy a brownstone not far from Winnie and Wes, we’ve been alternating playing hostess.
And tonight, Winslow Family Dinner will be at our house.
The instant I crawl out of bed, I don’t miss the way I ache from between my legs—courtesy of the hot sex Remy and I had at three in the morning last night. I also don’t miss that my breasts feel sore and my lower back has decided to let me know I’m forty-three now.
Being middle-aged is a real bitch.
I tiptoe into our master bathroom and make quick work of a shower.
Once I’m out, dried off, and standing in front of the sink to brush my teeth, my eyes catch sight of the two rings on my left ring finger.
I’m married. To Remy Winslow.
My smile grows bigger, but also, surprisingly, tears start to fill my eyes.
Damn, we’ve come a long way, he and I. We’ve both been through incredibly hard times. And somehow, we found our way back to each other.
Thank everything.
The stupid tears are now streaming down my cheeks.
Sheesh. I’m emotional these days.
I almost want to laugh at how ridiculous I’ve been lately, but when I lean down to spit the toothpaste into the sink and accidentally bump my boobs against the counter, the responding shooting pain from my nipples stops me dead in my tracks.
Damn, those suckers are sensitive today.
I stare at my naked breasts in the mirror.
