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That’s not what I expected her to say. “What?”
“We’re sleeping together, Duke,” she offers.
“I actually love that we’re sleeping together.” My mind races. I assumed our relationship would change. In my mind, everything is different. But this wasn’t what I was thinking about.
“Me too. But it means I can’t take your paychecks now.”
Why didn’t I see this coming? I know this woman. She’s proud, smart. If I’d been thinking straight, I would have predicted this. But I wasn’t paying attention, apparently. Why didn’t I consider how this would change her financial situation? Because I never think about money. Before I ever had to worry about having enough to pay my bills, I had a multi-million dollar contract with the Tyrants. That was a decade ago, and I hired smart financial advisers. After I retire, I won’t have to work again if I don’t want to.
June isn’t that fortunate. I want to tell her the money is the least of my concerns. But our relationship complicates things.
“June…” I drag her name out, trying to organize my thoughts.
“Duke…” she teases. “It’s okay. I knew. When we slept together, I knew.”
That makes me feel even more uncomfortable. “You knew you’d be out of income when you slept with me?” That is not a thing I was thinking about that night. That she had been thinking about it shows exactly how different our circumstances were.
“Sure.” She says it like it’s a natural assumption. “But Tabby’s teacher mentioned there’s a long-term sub position opening after Thanksgiving. If I take that, I’ll be working the same hours as Tabby is in school. It won’t interfere with me taking care of her.”
Something feels off about the way she says all of this, but I’m struggling to place it. “Do you want to do that? To teach after the holidays?”
“The only reason I didn’t teach this year was because I didn’t want the stress of a new teaching position with Lily’s health the way it is. I’m hopeful Lily’s situation stabilizes soon, and I’ll be able to do this and still help you.”
If June had taken a full-time position this year, Tabby and I wouldn’t have met her. The thought leaves me cold. “You don’t need to take a different job, June. You can just stay with us.”
I know as soon as I say the words that they’re wrong. She responds with clipped words. “I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”
“June—”
“I spent my childhood being a burden or feeling like a freeloader. I refuse to feel like that as an adult.” The words drop like a grenade in our conversation.
I knew I fucked up, but this is a different level. I never considered the toll growing up like she did had on her. My own parents are still together in Canada. They were university sweethearts and have been together since. My father owns a large construction company, and my mother is a mortgage officer. My childhood was stable and ordinary, boring even. The opposite of hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I know you didn’t.” Her tone is softer but not less firm.
“I just—” I inhale. “I didn’t think about this when—”
“When you slept with me?” She chuckles. “I know. I mean, I knew things would change. I just wasn’t sure how it would work out. But it will. Don’t worry.”
The way she says it makes me think this won’t be the end of these kinds of conversations, and I can’t help wondering what other shoes there are to drop.
Would it help if I told her I loved her? That I want her to stay with me, to marry me? I don’t know. I doubt it, and it makes me feel helpless in a way I don’t like. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” I finally say.
“Me too. What time will you be home?”
I love the way she says home. “Midafternoon.”
“Great. And I’ll make sure we have something yummy for Nancy.”
After what she just said about not accepting a paycheck, I worry she could feel like I’m taking advantage of her. I hate that feeling. Why didn’t I consider this earlier? “Thank you,” I finally say, because what else can I do now? I’m not good at this stuff. I wish I was there. I’m sure I would handle this better in person.
“I can’t wait to see you tomorrow,” I repeat. There’s nothing truer.
“Good night, Duke,” she says softly. “Sleep well.”
We hang up, but I’m left with an unsettled feeling in my stomach. When I get home, I’ll figure out a way to smooth all of this over. Maybe the way we got together wasn’t ideal, but it isn’t anything that we can’t sort out for the future. We just need to work out the kinks.
June
