‘I know, Shelly. I’m only sorry it took me a week to realise it.’ He runs a hand over his jaw, wiping all trace of lipstick from his face before continuing. ‘I’m just finding things a bit weird at the minute.’
‘How do you mean?’ Leaning closer across the table, I examine my husband properly for the first time in days. Slight circles linger under his eyes, even with his sun-kissed glow.
‘The whole retirement thing. I suppose I feel a bit surplus to requirements. Then when you got offered this, and I didn’t get offeredA League of Their Own, it felt like a bit of a blow. I’m sorry. I should have been more supportive.’
‘Marcus Williams, you are the most supportive man I know. You could never be surplus to requirements – a fact that I’m going to show you later.’ I grab his thigh under the table, reaching as high up his leg as I can manage, yet nowhere near as high as I’d like.
‘Promises, promises.’ His eyes brighten and gleam. ‘Does this mean I’m getting a blowie tonight?’ The blunt, crass man I know and love is back. Thank god. Everything’s going to be ok. It’s bound to take time to adjust after fifteen years with the team. I should have anticipated things more clearly, had more lined up for him.
‘You, my darling husband, can get one every night of the week if it makes your eyes light up like that.’ Judging by the raised eyebrows and smirking faces at the neighbouring tables, my voice is a little on the loud side. Nothing new there though.
‘I knew there was a reason I married you, Shelly Williams.’ He grins and the waiter arrives with our starters.
‘I’m going to make you so proud of me.’ Reaching for my phone from my clutch on the table, I type a quick text to Aaron Wright, two words that say it all.
I’m in.
