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“Tatiana?” he whispers.
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“Did it feel good?”
“Yes.”
He kisses my shoulder. “I forgot to tell you something earlier.”
“What?”
“I’m in love with you, too.”
* * *
He rescheduleshis flight and stays with me for the rest of the weekend.
THIRTY-EIGHT
NO MORE DAYS OF “PRETEND”
TATIANA
Weeks Later
Las Vegas, Nevada
Sore and completely useless, I rolled over in bed.
The past couple weeks of my marriage were an utter dream, a blissful never-ending scene straight from a romance.
Every morning, I joined Travis for a protein breakfast with his trainer and kissed him goodbye for the afternoon. While he endured an intense workout, I attended business seminars.
For lunch, he devoured me in the shower before an evening run while I worked on Penelope’s bachelorette party and baby shower plans.
And at night, I slept in his bed while he kissed and held me.
Today had started just like all the days before, but I was struggling to find the right mimosa glasses for Penelope’s party.
Since Madeline had insisted on helping, we’d spent most of the afternoon taking turns to make store runs.
As I held another failed glass to the light, a knock sounded at the door.
“Coming, Madeline!” I rushed to the living room. “These won’t cut it either!”
Flinging the door wide open, I stepped back when I saw Penelope.
“Hey!” She smiled. “Are you ready for it?”
“Ready for what?”
“Today.” She held up an oversized pink bag. “Please don’t tell me that you forgot.”
“Today’s not your birthday, right?”
