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He conceded with a slow nod. “You have a point there.”
“From a young age, I vowed I wouldn’t become my mom. I told myself I’d never let love blind me. Never let it destroy me. Or let some guy derail who I am and who I’m meant to become. So I date and I have sex and I’ve had a few relationships, but I don’t expect much. And frankly, I haven’t ever had my heart broken, so I feel like I’m doing pretty fucking good.”
His brow furrowed. “How much sex?”
Jesus. Of course that was the part of that speech he zeroed in on.
I didn’t respond. Instead, I took another sip of my water and glared at him. “None of your fucking business.”
He shook his head. “You’re right. It’s not. But that whole philosophy sounds sad and lonely.”
I slammed my glass down on the counter harder than I intended. “Says the man wallowing in heartache.”
“Hey, don’t judge me.” For a second, I worried I’d offended him, but then his upper lip twitched.
“Sorry. That was harsh. I just mean that you had a horrible breakup. I’m looking at you right now, and all I can think is that I don’t want to be in your shoes.”
He scratched his chin. “You’ve got a point there.” He put the glasses in the sink and propped a hip against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ve established that there will be no falling in love in this marriage. Excellent. Now let me show you to your quarters, Mrs. Gagnon.”
“Mrs. Markey-Gagnon,” I corrected.
“Of course.”
He cut across the kitchen and pushed through a door, revealing a small space with two decent-sized windows. A plush blue rug covered the floor, and on one wall stood an enormous steel desk.
“I got that for you.” He nodded at the monstrous thing. “Alice let me take it. Said the school was going to donate it. It’s kind of an antique.”
Running my hands across the steel top, I took in its scarred surface. It looked like it was from the 1960s, with drawers on each side. My heart clenched. He’d gotten this for me?
“We can move it too. But it weighs a ton, so don’t try it on your own. I had to bribe Henri to help me carry it in.”
“It’s perfect.”
“It’s not much, but I can get you anything else you need. Shelves, filing cabinets, whatever. This is your space.”
He was watching me, his expression more bashful than I thought possible from a confident guy like him. And the hope in his eyes, like he really cared about what I thought of it, made my heart clench.
“That would be amazing.” I wandered around the room, imagining the possibilities. White boards on the walls to keep track of my research, a small filing cabinet. I had never had my own private space before. Growing up, I’d shared a room with Dylan, and then in college and grad school, I’d lived with roommates. The past few years had been spent in a three-hundred-and-fifty square-foot studio I shared with an endless supply of critters that I would happily never see again.
This whole space felt like a fresh start. Where I could dig in and get my dissertation done. For the first time in months, a sense of relief washed over me. Like one massive item had been checked off my endless to do list.
The enormity of the last twenty-four hours hit me then. Marriage. Surgery. Moving in together. Tears welled up in my eyes, and a wave of gratitude hit me. “Thank you,” I said, throwing my arms around his neck.
He went rigid at first, but then he wrapped his strong arms around me. “Nothing to thank me for,” he whispered.
Tears crested, then spilled over my lashes as we stood, tangled together. I buried my face in his chest, breathing in the scent of him that I couldn’t get enough of.
“No,” I said into his shirt, the sound muffled. “You’ve already done so much for me. I just—”
And then the sobs began. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Years of tamping down my emotions, of being strong, independent, tough, flooded to the surface. And for one moment, I let myself be vulnerable.
Because I could. Remy was my friend. I could tease him and joke with him one minute and cry the next. I didn’t have to worry about what he thought of me. And I wasn’t trying to impress him. We were on the same team, and something about that realization made the tears flow faster.
I was feeling so many things at once. Fear and embarrassment, but also hope.
Because, after years of self-sufficiency, of barely scraping by, all my goals were within reach. I was so close to my PhD, and I could finally have the surgery I needed.
This man, this kind, beautiful person, was saving me. He was giving me health care and my own room to work, and the generosity of it all was just too much.
