I rise to my feet and gather my things. “We can talk about it while we run tomorrow.”
She frowns. “I’ve been pushing myself to run more. You don’t need to force me.”
“I just ran with you in Amsterdam. I’m somewhat familiar with how much you’repushingyourself.”
She pulls the blanket over her head. “I’m busy tomorrow!” she shouts. “I’m finding my purpose!”
I laugh quietly. I meant to get a full day of work in, rather than fucking around for the entire morning in a place I dislike. And I can’t wait.
I didn’t shake a single thing off in London.
Bex
Theo forces me out ofbed at an indecently early hour, smirking as I stumble around the living room, bleary-eyed. “It’s easier for you,” I say, flipping him off as I put on my running shoes. “You’re still on London time.”
“You must have another friend on London time,” he says, “because someone’s blowing up your phone.” He slides it toward him, the kind of gross invasion of privacy I thought onlyI’dresort to. “Who the fuck is Brian and why is he sending you all this rubbish?”
“Are you reading my texts?”
“Obviously,” he says without apology. “That’s how I know my wife is getting texts from someone named Brian with whom she has clearly been intimate.”
I jump up and snatch my phone away from him. “You know, you’re awfully wishy-washy about when you want to play the ‘my wife’ card. I don’t notice you referencing that when I ask about yourcomplication.”
“Rebecca,” he says, nostrils flaring, “you could ruin the entire fucking show if you’re meeting random guys when we’re—”
“He’s not a random guy,” I reply. “We dated on and off for like two years. And you’re not really my husband, so stop reading my texts.”
“Just don’t fuck things up,” he barks, heading for the door. If he were anyone else, I’d say he sounded jealous.
We run in surly silence. I’m annoyed at him for doing exactly what I did on the way to London. He’s annoyed for reasons that still aren’t clear.
“Is Brian the guy who took your passport?” he asks. We’re a mile in and he isn’t even breathing heavily, whereas I’m pretty sure I have at least one collapsed lung.
“I’ll answer if you’ll slow down,” I gasp. I wouldn’t be inclined to answer his questions except I’ll say anything to make this run get easier or stop entirely.
“Fine,” he says, slowing.
“I’ll answer if we can walk.”
He rolls his eyes skyward. “You have got to get in better shape, Rebecca.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” I say, stopping entirely, bent over with my hands pressed to my thighs. “I can promise you that I won’t be running six-minute miles during this marathon, so let’s just accept that we won’t be running it together.”
He waits until I start walking before he returns to the conversation. “You still haven’t answered the question.”
You still haven’t told me why you sound jealous.
I blow out a breath. “Fine, yes, Brian was the guy who stole my passport.”
“Why would you even speak to him again after what he did?”
I shrug. “We were together a long time. I’m sure he’s hoping this marriage to you will prove unsatisfactory in the most important ways and I’ll be desperate to get laid.”
His eye twitches. “Are you?”
“Am I?” I repeat. “Am I desperate to get laid? Is that what you’re asking?”
“Areyou getting laid?” he growls.
