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Spoiler alert: I fail.
“You’re playing hardball,” I accuse.
“I always do.” He drinks some of his coffee. “Have you had breakfast yet?”
“No, I was still asleep when you knocked on my door.”
He doesn’t even have the decency to look regretful about that. “Good. I took the liberty to order breakfast. It will be here in twenty minutes.”
If he’s trying to rearrange all my thoughts and get them out of a straight line, he’s succeeding. “I’m not hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.”
“I’m not.”
“At this time of day, you are.”
“What if I take all day searching for somewhere to live? Will your driver be able to work all day?”
Owen never falters, never fails me. He always keeps up with my train of thoughts, even when I redirect our conversation like I just have. “He’s yours for as long as you need him.”
“What if I decide I want to live in LA forever?”
“We’ll live in LA.”
“What if I decide I want five children?”
“We’ll negotiate that number.”
“What if I take up a shopping addiction and spend all your money?”
“I’ll make more.”
“What if I eat my way into fifty more pounds?”
“I’ll love every curve.”
I stare at him.
Why must he be so good at being the man I need?
I take a gulp of coffee. “I’m taking a shower.”
I take my coffee and practically run to the bathroom.
I then proceed to spend a very long time in the bathroom.
Owen has muddled every thought I was in the middle of, and that means I’m in a mess.
A big, fat, hot mess.
Except I’m not.
I have one thought that not even Owen can jumble, shuffle or tangle.
When Benjamin asked me to marry him, I said yes, but I later googled “how to tell if you’re in love”. Still feeling confused, I googled “what does being in love feel like?”. And then I googled “how do you know if you have a deep connection with someone?”
I had so many tabs open on my computer with what felt like a million variations of those questions and still, I didn’t have the answer I was looking for.
