My face grows hot with embarrassment. Let's hope Xavier never studied psychology and doesn't read into that Freudian slip.
A small smile spreads over his lips. "We'll see. Are you sure you can't go? I'll put a call in to the realtor."
I glance at my desk. "Yeah, I need to work. But you go. It's your place anyway. I mean, I can help with rent, but I'm fairly confident we're not in the same tax bracket. Speaking of which, we need to have Tony put in the contract about how we file our taxes. It might be better to file separately due to the disparity in our incomes, but on the other hand, it's not like I take itemized deductions. I'll have to run the numbers. Do you have your tax returns from last year so I can figure out how we want the contract written?"
See? It's not exciting to me, but I am good at what I do.
"Yes, I need to get ahold of Tony. I've got to get moving on the citizenship thing. I'm not sure what the next step is."
After Xavier leaves, I do my very best to concentrate on work. Sometimes being productive can be challenging, but I've also never had a reason to fly through things before. It's not like Sundance cared if I finished at four or seven, as long as he could sit in my lap or walk across my keyboard. I'm not sure how long Xavier will be gone, but I don't want to still be running spreadsheets when he returns.
Focus would be slightly easier if Xavier wasn't texting me pictures of the places he’s touring. I appreciate the thought, I really do. But I sort of don't care. Nothing will be this place, in my funky building with a turret.
It won't be mine. It won't be home. It'll simply be a place where my stuff is for a few years.
Maybe when this marriage is over, I'll have enough saved up for a place in the Back Bay. That's always been my dream residence. However, now, the thought of my marriage one day being history makes me sad, and I have no idea why.
Me: Go with your gut about what you like. You know what I'm paying for rent now. I can't afford more for my share, but we should be able to get something decent between the two of us.
Xavier: Do you want close to the stadium or nice? We're finally getting closer to Foxborough.
Me: That's a you question. You're the one doing the commute. I only have to go to games every … how often do you play?
Xavier: I'm going to give you a study guide, and yes, there will be a test.
Me: Will you grade on a curve? Oh! Make sure the place accepts pets. Sunny is non-negotiable. Have Tony put him in the contract if you need.
Xavier: If the damn wanker ever calls me back, I will. :-/
Me: You're going to make me get rid of my couch, aren't you?
Xavier: It's an eyesore.
Me: It's got character and personality. It's not boring.
Xavier: That it's not.
Xavier: So far, my favorite is The Sylvan, but no 3 bed available. 2 bed, but it's pricey. Go check out the website.
I click on the link and can see the appeal after taking the virtual tour. There's a pool, not that we'll get to use it for a while. There is a fitness facility and everything looks new. There are even windows, so you know, it's an upgrade already. It's very posh and modern and … cold. Sleek and stylish and everything that I'm not. Something occurs to me, so I text Xavier.
Me: Why 3 bed?
Xavier: So you can have a dedicated office.
That's so considerate. I shouldn't be surprised because Xavier is the poster child for considerate.
The messages cease for a little while. They must be in-between places. About forty-five minutes later, my phone starts blowing up.
Xavier: I've found the absolute perfect place, and I don't want to lose it. Can you come down and sign the lease today?
I look at the clock.
Me: I can probably leave by 4. With traffic should be there by 5.
I know I told Xavier it didn't matter—and it doesn't—but I wish I was there to see.
Me: Do you have a link?
