Thanks. Let me know what I can do to be more helpful.
Yep.
That’s good.
That’s normal.
That’s legitimate.
I hit send and watch as the status changes fromsendingtodelivered.
But notread.
I hope she’s not puking anymore. And that it’s just morning sickness. Don’t know much about pregnancy and babies, and I’m never having kids, so I don’t need to know. But is she in the normal stage for morning sickness?
Or is this something wrong?
Did the house curse the baby?
Should I tell her to leave instead?
“Holt?” Goldie says.
Fuck. I’m breathing way too fast. “Shitty week. Still up in my head. I’m fine.”
I’m not fine.
My phone dings.
Ziggy:No worries. I’ve got this.But it turns out a baby pink tub was accidentally delivered, so that’s what you’re getting. You’ll love it. It goes perfectly with the white marble sink and the fish shower curtain I just found online.
For the first time in what feels like weeks, I take a full breath.
She’s joking.
If she’s joking with me and sending me long texts, we’re normal.
Not okay—my foot is broken, and I’m going to have to pretend she’s not the most attractive woman I’ve met in years—but normal.
That was a joke, in case it wasn’t clearpops up on my screen.
I smile. I’m fucking exhausted, I smell like ass, and I hurt, but I’m smiling.
Me:Damn. I’ve always wanted a pink tub with a fish shower curtain. Sorry again for being a shit. I’m not usually like this. Thanks for breakfast. It was delicious. I’ll text before I head back so I don’t scare you.
The message almost instantly goes toread.
But no bubbles pop up suggesting she’s texting back.
“I like the waffles better,” Fletcher announces.
I look away from my phone.
Now he’s in another pair of black budgie smugglers, but this time, there’s a flaming meatball on his crotch.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I mutter.
“Management says this was one of their real ideas. I think they’re going for some play on the Thrusters having a hot dog?—”
