Later, I find myself wandering over to the corner of the room, where Annie is reading to a whole bunch of kids. Because I want to watch Annie interact with kids. For no reason at all.
I am waylaid by Tom.
“Thanks for this, big guy,” he tells me, with a slap to the back that sort of misses the mark.
“Welcome,” I say, but I don’t feel welcome. ‘Cause after what he said about Annie in the car?
“So you’re fucking Annie,” he grins. Leers, almost. His eyes are drooping and unfocused. Jeez. Has this guy always been like this?
“Careful,” I warn him, that murder and danger tone coming back into my voice.
“I wantyouto be careful,” he slurs. “Outside of getting your dick wet—it’s a bad fuckin’ idea, Nico,” he tells me, leaning over to one side, repeating my own words from just… a few days ago. “She is batshit insane. She is selfish and narcissistic. Main character energy, chaos monster?—”
I see red, then black. Rage. I grab his arm. “Listen to me, Tom. If this weren’t your fuckin’ wedding right now, I would beat the shit out of you.” I probably wouldn’t, but maybe I would ask Annie to help me set his car on fire. “Never, and I meannever,eversay shit about her to me or her or your fuckin’ fiancé and her fuckin’ twin ever again. Do you hear me? Because if you don’t, I’m gonna make you fuckin’ hear me,” I whisper in his ear with an arm wrapped around him and a fake-ass smile pasted on my face. “Because we’re not gonna have any problems here. For Annie’s sake. For May’s sake. Got it?”
Tom frowns at me, a sort of vacant look in his face. He doesn’t look like he hears me. He shrugs and walks away.
I blow out a breath and refuse to think about it.
I move towards Annie.
And this is an Annie page I have never read.
She’s sitting cross-legged on the floor regardless of her fancy-ass dress, a book open across her knees, six kids practically draped over her, all wide-eyed and slack-jawed. And Annie? Annie’s not the sharp, sarcastic woman, or that bold, impulsive, terrible-at-dancing, grouchy force.
She’s soft here. Unarmored. Animated.
Her eyes are wide and bright, her hands flying with each sentence like she’s physically painting the story into the air for them. Her voice lifts into silly accents and singsong rhythms, and she laughs loud and open and delighted. The kids are rapt. And so am I.
She glows. Not in that sexy, slow-burn, feel-my-wrath way I’ve gotten used to. This is something easier, more sunshine. Warm. Effortless. Kind.
It hits me all at once how much of herself she’s still hiding from the world. From me. How many versions of Annie exist, raw and unexpected and real. How many I haven’t even earned yet.
I am so fucked.
“Hey, Nico,” May’s voice says from next to me.
I snap out of it and go in for a hug. “Hey, you.” It’s wild how similar she feels to Annie, but also completely different. I could tell them apart with my eyes closed, just by how they felt in my arms. “Congratulations.”
She smiles. “Thank you.”
We watch her sister as she quacks like a duck and barks like a dog. The tiniest kid is laughing so hard he’s barrel rolling across the restaurant floor. Annie looks unbothered, majestic.
“I wanted to apologize to you for making you bring Annie on your work trip, but I’m not so sure I should apologize anymore.”
“Yeah?” I mumble, only half paying attention because Annie is currently using theskin on her armto wipe another kid’s nose. I am not well. My body is trying to reach towards her on a cellular level, my sperm shouting for her eggs.
May’s laugh brings me back from my daydreams regarding the color of our daughter’s hair.
I blink. “What?”
“You’ve been staring at her this whole time like she’s just arrived on a bed of sunshine and rainbows.”
I finally meet May’s eyes. “If you mean clouds of hellfire and darkness and other equally impressive, terrifying things—then, yeah.”
May’s grin changes into something knowing. “You get it.”
“I get it,” I say, dead serious.
