“From?” She lowers into her seat, propping her chin on the heels of her palms.
“That place around the corner from your dad’s.”
She gasps. “West Golden, you spoil me!”
I smile at the fact that it cost a pretty penny to rent this place out, but to my wife, two meals under twenty bucks is the part that feels like being spoiled.
A couple years ago, during a late-night dinner on our deck back in California, she went on a whole-ass rant about this one Thai restaurant. She likened eating their food to a spiritual experience, so ordering from there tonight seemed like a good idea.
Her face lights up when I place the bowl in front of her, then pass her a spoon. She’s already digging in before I can even pull mine out of the bag.
“Damn, is it good?” I chuckle.
“Sogood,” she nods, slurping a noodle between her lips.
“Glad I got it right.”
I glance over and catch her staring. “You definitely got it right.”
There’s a moment that lingers between us, and I wonder if she’s thinking the same thing I am. That, more than anything, I want us to get back to how we were.
Before Pandora returned.
Before IVF.
Before all the disagreements.
Beforeanyof it.
She finally looks away, and I try to keep the moment light, steering clear of the heavier topics. We need a break from that shit.
“Things coming along okay at the center?”
Her eyes light up with the question, and I know I asked the right one. “We’re actually ahead of schedule,” she beams, dabbing the corner of her mouth with a napkin.
“Wow. Guess Seth really knows what he’s doing.”
She nods, and I hope she knows that was my attempt at being mature. Took everything in me not to call him an asshole instead of by his name.
“He’s really been on top of things. There are a few hiccups, but he’ll take care of it, keep things on track.”
She’s got a lot of faith in him, and I’m grateful he’s doing his part to make her dream come true, but, of course, I’m still watching him.
“Well, good. I’m glad it’s all coming together.”
She breathes a quiet laugh, and I peer up from my food. “Something funny?”
“Oh, nothing. Just watching that vein throb on the side of your neck. The same one I see every single time we talk about Seth.”
I don’t respond, because she knows me too well for me to deny how much I hate the guy.
But I really,reallyhate that guy.
“If you’re happy with his work,I’mhappy with his work. That’s all that matters.”
She leans up from her seat, grips the collar of my hoodie, and my eyes close for a moment when she kisses my cheek. “Thank you. For everything. Tonight is…perfect.”
“Anything for you, Southside. And I do mean any-fucking-thing.”
