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“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” I murmured, cautiously moving away from the door and into the room.
“I thought I’d wait out here to make sure you got back safely,” he explained his reason for not being hidden in his bedroom.
Nodding my understanding, feeling a bit of appreciation move through me, I replied, “Thanks.”
“Did you have fun today?” he asked, his voice gentle.
I shrugged. “It was nice to spend some time alone with the girls.”
“That’s good.”
There was a brief pause as I considered what to do next. The awkward tension was palpable, and I didn’t have the energy or strength to muscle my way through it. But since Johnny had been kind enough to wait here for me and ask about my day, I knew I couldn’t just walk away.
“How was fishing?”
“It was good. We enjoyed ourselves,” he returned.
Nodding, glad that he had that, I said, “That’s good.”
Johnny was still sitting on the couch, and I was standing beside it at the opposite end. His eyes roamed over my face in silence for a while before he asked, “Did the five of you get anything for dinner?”
I shook my head. “No. Did you?”
“No.” There was another lengthy stretch of silence between us. I never thought I’d see the day where I’d be nervous being alone in a room with my husband while not having a clue what to say, but here I was. Fortunately, he seemed to do better under this kind of pressure. “Would you like to have dinner together? We could just order in, if you don’t want to go back out.”
“Johnny, I’m not sure—”
“We both have to eat, Kiera,” he said, cutting me off. “I can order something in, and we can just eat and watch television. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that. We don’t even have to speak, if you don’t want to.”
He was extending an olive branch.
As much as I might have wanted to say no as a means of self-preservation, maybe I needed to do this. Perhaps I wouldn’t just have my memories from years ago to comfort me after the divorce. Maybe I could have this, too. Maybe this was how Johnny and I would be able to get to a place where we could be friends once we were no longer together.
“Okay,” I agreed quietly. “But I’d like to take a shower now, if that’s alright.”
I could have sworn I saw something that looked a lot like relief mixed with a bit of hope pass through Johnny’s expression.
“Of course. Why don’t you go grab a shower and get comfortable, and I’ll get everything ordered?” he suggested.
“Thanks.”
“Do you want anything special?” he asked.
Maybe it was the wrong thing to say, but for some reason, I answered, “You know what I like.”
Johnny seemed stunned momentarily, but he quickly recovered and said, “Yeah. Yeah, Kiera, I do.”
With that, I gave him a nod and took off toward my bedroom. I took a shower, lingering for a bit to make sure there was enough time for our food to be made. I wasn’t entirely sure just how much time I could spend alone with him like this.
Eventually, I got myself out of the shower, got myself dressed in pajamas, and emerged from the bedroom. It was with near perfect timing, because Johnny had just closed the door to the villa and carried the food over to the coffee table.
“I got a couple of those brick-oven pizzas,” he said. “One’s margherita, and the other is mushrooms and garlic. I also ordered a pasta primavera. It’s pasta with broccoli, spinach, garlic, mushrooms, and diced tomatoes.”
Warmth moved through me for the first time in a very long time.
Even if I hadn’t indicated it was that way, it seemed Johnny couldn’t miss that I’d had a rough day. He knew that one of the best ways to make me feel better was comfort food.
