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“Seems like something you should discuss. I mean, you’re supposed to be married, right?”
“Fake married, but yeah.”
“Even fake married, he can’t expect you to move across the country for him without at least a conversation.” She whistles at Rex off-camera. “Hey, outta there! Sorry, he’s trying to burrow under a fallen tree.”
“I think we’re in a holding pattern right now, you know? He’s getting work done, I’m hanging around bored out of my mind. It’s like we’re just waiting for the other person to make the first move.”
“Do you want to? Make the move, I mean. Like, sexually.”
I snort. “Not at all. Not sexually or otherwise.”
“But you’re still thinking about it.”
“If byityou mean the move, then yeah. That’s the deal we made, right? Marriage for a year. And anyway, what do I have keeping me here in Dallas?”
“I don’t know,” she admits, looking worried. “I’m just nervous for you. I mean, if you follow him out to Boston, what will you have then? You’ll be trapped, won’t you? Sort of at his mercy.”
“That’s a little dramatic.”
“I’m serious. What if he turns out to be, like, a psycho murderer? And he tries to cut off your toes and eat them?”
“You’ve been listening to too many podcasts.” I hesitate, trying to remember if he ever looks at my feet. But no, Gareth’s not into that. I’m pretty sure.
“I’m just saying, try to think about what a move like this would be like. Strange city, reliant on a man. All that stuff.”
I’m quiet for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “I have thought about it, and I’m pretty sure I want to do it. I like Gareth. I like spending time with him. Those two days at the beach—” I hesitate, not sure how much detail I want to give her. I’ve hinted at what happened between us in the outdoor shower, but I haven’t outright said it.
“You know what I wish? I wish you two would stop with the whole fake-relationship thing and just make it real.”
I laugh softly. “You want me to be actually married to him?”
“Maybe date a little first before you take the plunge.”
“Too late for that.”
“It’s obvious you’re into him, Fiona. Every time we talk, you’re constantly going on about him. Why not just say fuck it and… fuck him?”
“I thought he was a toe-collecting psychopath?”
“Don’t get cute with me. You’re into him, he’s got to be into you. Just go for it.”
I glance away from the screen. “That’s the thing, I’m not sure he is.”
Gareth seemed into me down the beach, but since we’ve been back? He pulled into his shell again. It’s all, up early for work, home late, bed immediately. He’s either working out or doing lawyer stuff. I haven’t been able to talk to him about things, not without sounding like I’m needy and obsessed or something.
“You’re crazy if you think that. Look at you, Fiona! You’re hot as fuck and super smart. Just stop playing this game and go for it. Sorry, hold on.”
Cait shouts at her dog again. I try to picture dating Gareth, but it seems impossible—we’re living together, we’re married, it’s like the dating phase is way behind us.
There’s a knock at my apartment door. I jump in surprise, craning my neck to look down the front hall.
“Someone’s here,” I say. “Gotta go. See ya.”
“Rex, damn it, stop doing—”
I hang up before I find out what trouble Rex has gotten into. The knocking stopped and hasn’t started again, so I’m thinking it was a package delivery. I head over, crack open the door, and peer out.
There’s a box on the ground. I stoop over, curious. Gareth rarely buys stuff online. I turn it over, checking the label—
