AllFreeNovel
Share Us
13
Valentina
Dom and I stay out of each other’s hair during the week. He’s figured out my schedule, and when I’m at the studio for night classes, he’s already in his room when I come home, and vice versa on the days he works late.
Weekends pose a different problem. This one, we’re due to have a big Sunday family dinner at the Mancinis’. Our parents insisted on our presence this week because they fear the truth—that we’re going through the motions but not actually trying to make this marriage work.
Dom returns home on Sunday around noon, a sweaty mess from playing basketball with his brothers. I feel like a slacker since I’m binge-watching Good Girls on Netflix with my coffee and the donuts I had delivered out of pure laziness.
He eyes me and drops his duffle bag next to the entryway table, his keys hitting the ceramic dish a second later. I pretend not to notice so I don’t have to engage. I’ve had long sex droughts in my life, but being around Dom all the time makes it feel as though I’ve been celibate for twenty years.
“Good morning,” he says, walking into the kitchen.
“Afternoon.”
He glances at the microwave clock. “So it is.”
I look away again and try to get back into my show. I hear him open the fridge, but I don’t know what he’s doing until he plops down beside me on the couch.
“What are you watching?” He opens one of those green drinks that scream good health and probiotics, then downs half of it.
“Just a show on Netflix.”
“Is that what it’s called? Just a Show on Netflix?” He eyeballs me then my bag of donut holes, smirking.
“No, it’s not. What?” I crumple up the bag and set it aside, sipping my coffee.
“You and your sweets.” He smiles as though it amuses him.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, Mr. Health Nut.”
He’s really not. I’ve seen him consume bags of taco-flavored Doritos.
“I prefer when you call me hubby more than these stupid mister names you keep making up.” He pulls the ottoman closer and puts up his feet. He’s barefoot, but I can see the outline from his socks and shoes from when he was playing basketball.
“Sorry I don’t please you.”
“I’ll let you please me if you really want to.” He opens his arms and looks at his lap. When I toss a pillow at him, he laughs. “Are you gonna share?”
I pass him the bag of donut holes.
“So what’s the show? What am I missing?”
Clearly, he’s not going to let this go, so I pause the show. I don’t want to miss anything—especially if Rio has a scene.
“I’m still on the first season. It’s about these three women who all need money and decide to rob a grocery store…” I tell him about the series.
He pulls two donut holes out of the bag—a glazed and a red velvet one—and pops them into his mouth as he listens. He actually looks as if he’s interested in what I’m saying.
“All right, cool. Press Play.” He leans back and wiggles his ass into the couch as though he’s going to spend the rest of the afternoon there.
I press Play, and we watch television together for a while. It isn’t until the break between episodes that he asks me to pause it for a second.
“I’m going to make a sandwich. You want one?” He disappears into the kitchen.
“Sure, but I can make it.”
“Val, let me make you a sandwich. There’s no hidden agenda in it. I promise.”
