Page 79 of Holding Penalty

I don’t know how it happened—but we have a bathtub now.

The walk-in shower still exists, but there’s a new sink—a smaller but more stylish one—repositioned to make room for a spacious bathtub on the other side of the bathroom.

The spotless white porcelain curves gleam under the warm bathroom lights. I approach it slowly, tentatively, like I’m still not entirely convinced it’s not some malevolent spirit taking the form of a bathtub to haunt the house.

Hey, it’s not like any other explanations make sense.

There’s clearly only one person who could possibly be responsible for this, and he’s not even in this state. He hasn’t been for days.

When I get close enough to the tub to look inside it, I spot a letter. I pick it up to find heavy cursive handwriting in black ink, the style clearly masculine from how jagged and hurried the shapes are, but surprisingly elegant.

I got the suspicion that you might appreciate having a tub to soak in after a long day at work. Happy two-month anniversary. Nash.

My stomach flips over itself. Nash somehow orchestrated a one-day bathtub installation for our two-month anniversary.

Nash knew this was our two-month anniversary? I haven’t even been keeping track.

I grab my phone and send a text.

ME

Nash, what did you do?

NASH

Just now? I snuck a moon pie that Hayden brought to the hotel as a pre-game snack. Don’t tell Coach

ME

HOW did you get a bathtub installed while I was working?

NASH

It was easier than I expected

I roll my eyes while I smile.

ME

This is way too much for a “two-month anniversary present”

ME

I wasn’t actually complaining when you overheard me telling my sister I wished we had a tub, you know

ME

I don’t even want to think about how much it cost to get the job done this fast

NASH

My wife wants a bathtub, she gets a bathtub

I don’t know why seeing those words on my phone makes my heart vibrate. I kind of wish I could stop it, because it’s a dangerous feeling. What’s also dangerous is the knowledge that even if I could stop it, maybe I wouldn’t.

Minutes later, I’m soaking in a glorious hot bathtub, along with an amazing bath bomb that Nash also bought me a bunch of.

And when I let my gaze stray to the shower on the other side of the bathroom, I don’t fight against remembering the last time I saw Nash standing in it.