“If you love each other, you’ll work it out. You think Maisy and I have the rosiest relationship? We argue. The latest one is about the grout color I applied in our recent guest bathroom makeover. She said gray, and I thought that’s what I bought, but it ended up taupe. Who knew there was a slight difference between them? And of course, she’s right; I should have tried a sample before I did the whole bathroom. But I won’t concede yet because our makeup sex is too fucking good each time we argue about it.” He finished with a sly smile.
“Shh, the baby’s ears.” Everett made a squeaky noise, as if in agreement.
Brooks chuckled and added quietly, “Relationships aren’t perfect. They cannot be controlled. Just accept the fact that they are messy and call her.”
He made a convincing argument—annoyingly, infuriatingly so.
I’d been broken far too long, letting my brokenness hold me back. Time to let go of that version of myself. Time to rebuild.
After he left, it was late, and too many thoughts invaded my head space. I jotted them all down, seeking a way to organize them.
Bellamy Architecture:
New Name. Transition plan.
Elevate partners to take over.
Reward loyalty.
Life:
Chase things to do that bring me joy.
Figure out what joy looks like.
Health:
Call Dr. Kramer, find out long-term heart health prognosis and take action.
Strive everyday for balance and emotional support on my journey.
Home:
Buy hooks.
Hang artwork.
Add built-in shelves
Love:
Call Penny.
Talk and apologize.
Say those three words to her if I haven’t ruined it between us by staying away so long.
That was it, a list that would rule my life starting tomorrow. With luck, I’d start the day fresh with the possibility of her ending back in my arms.
I walked the penthouse, every footstep echoing with possibilities I could see more clearly now.
In the doorway of my bedroom, I saw the bed made for two, a closet half-empty—space for her and all her things. Maybe one day, a nursery down the hall. A little bean of our own.
For years I’d dreamed only in blueprints and deadlines. Tonight, I would dream of laughter, chaos, and love that lasted.
Tomorrow, I’d tell Penny Fair how madly in love with her I was, and stop postponing the rest of my life.
DOGS AND DREAMS
