He takes a shower while I place the order. When he returns, dripping wet with a towel wrapped around his waist and looking too fucking sexy, he takes his phone back and orders his meal.
Dinner is uneventful. Griffin works on his laptop, eating while he types, and I read. We only say a few words to one another. It’s awkward, but I know he’s trying his best. We discuss my sister, Celeste. I decide I should tell her I've married someone who will take care of me, but I’m reluctant to reveal the whole truth.
“I’m just not the kind of person who jumps into marriage,” I say, picking at my salad. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell her until we have the real ceremony. At least then I’ll have been with you for more than a week. She’ll do something crazy like call the police if I tell her now.”
“Do what you think is best,” is his dismissive answer.
My heart drops a little. I finish my book, which was good, but it makes me ache for a real romance. I decide I’ll stick with horror novels until the feeling passes.
When I go to bed, Griffin tells me he’s going to keep working. When I wake up, he’s already gone.
I check my phone. There’s a text from Celeste.
Morning, how’s New York treating you? I’m heading into work, but I want you to be the first one to know.
Underneath the text is a picture of a pregnancy test.Pregnant.
My heart crashes.
OH MY GOD, Cel… a baby!!!! I’m so excited. I’m going to be an auntie… again.I text back.
I show as much excitement as a phone screen allows.
I KNOW! We’re already eight weeks pregnant, and I completely forgot about my period. (laughing emoji).
How can you forget about your period? I wonder. But she already has three kids, so perhaps her life is just that crazy. Ironically, Celeste and Scarlett are both having their fourth child. I want to be a mother with my whole soul, but four would be a lot. I remind myself that Griffin is temporary.
I can’t wait to meet the little critter.I mean it. I love my nephews. Maybe this one is a girl.
Me too… love you. Gotta go.
I read the next message, which is from Griffin.
Meet you downstairs at six. Be ready. Wear your wedding ring. - Griffin
Ugh. Short and to the point.
I head to the lobby at six. Griffin is there right on time.
“You’re fucking gorgeous.”
“Thanks. You look like a GQ model.”
And he does—perfectly tailored black suit, salt and pepper hair, powder blue dress shirt unbuttoned at the collar.
Instead of responding, he leans forward and kisses me. We make out for the rest of the drive. He’s a mess when we arrive.
“I’m not sure what to do with you,” he says, his cock visibly aroused against his trousers.
“I don’t know either. I feel so lost.”Fuck all this truth.“You can’t go in there like that,” I say, glancing down at him.
No one can see him because the partition is up, but we’re parked in front of the venue.
“I can handle it. Just go easy on the touching tonight.” He chuckles. “And maybe cover me for a few minutes.”
“What if you think about taxes? Or having a colonoscopy?”
He bursts into laughter. “That should do the trick.”
