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Nia rises from the bed and disappears onto the patio. I zip up my shorts and follow her out to the streaming late afternoon sun. She’s wriggling into her clothes with shoulders slumped, as if she feels defeated.

God, I can’t stand that. I hate that I’ve made her feel that way.

As she slides into her sandals, I approach her from behind and cup her shoulders. “Nia? Honey…”

But I don’t know what to say. I have no answer except that I know she’s the woman I’m supposed to spend the rest of my life with. I’m also convinced that, despite being in love with me, Nia is perfectly capable of living without me.

“Right now, I don’t see how we work this out,” she admits.

“We need more time together.” Maybe an afternoon isn’t enough for her to see how sincere I am. “Not at work. Time for just the two of us to focus on nothing but each other.”

Slowly, she nods, nibbling on her lip. That’s her I’ve-got-an-idea face. She’s still working it out; I can tell. But something is forming.

“What if we lived together for the next six weeks?” She turns her focus on me. “See what develops between us?”

I don’t love the idea…but I don’t hate it, either. It’s better than the two of us heading back to the mainland to live in our respective pads, only to see each other in the office or on occasional dates. A few weeks ago, I would have celebrated home-cooked meals and a cleaner apartment. But just being next to Nia is way more important than any of that. Getting to kiss her good morning…and worship her body all night. It gives me time to truly sweep her off her feet so she can’t say no.

“That makes sense. You want to be sure before you say yes, and this will help.”

“And you don’t?”

“I’m already sure. But if you need more time⁠—”

“I do. And I honestly think you do, too. I know you want to move on, but I think you need to ask yourself where your heart lies. If you can tell me how you feel about me in six weeks and you still want to marry me, maybe I’ll say yes.”

What she means is, if I can spew out a confession of love.

Fuck. This kind of emotional tripe goes against my grain. She knows that. Does she expect that I’ll suddenly become impractical and sentimental and fall madly in love? Even as invested as I was in my marriage to Becca, I wasn’t that guy.

On the other hand, my only options are to convince her we should be married or for me to spend all my foreseeable days alone.

“I’ll make sure that maybe is a yes. When we get back, you can move your things into my penthouse⁠—”

“No.”

I raise a brow at her. “Why not? I have a bigger place. It’s closer to the office. I have an amazing view.”

“All of that is true, but your wife’s ghost is everywhere, and I won’t be living with her, too.”

I pause. Maybe there’s some truth to that. I think of Becca less these days. I don’t imagine I’m seeing her out of the corner of my eye as often. But so much of her presence still lingers there. Every morning when I get dressed for work, I pass her clothes. I’ve never packed them away. I open the home office we shared and her meticulously organized papers still take up half the desk drawers because I’ve never bothered to cull through them. The few personal pictures in the apartment are those she hung. The handful of knickknacks and throw pillows I possess, she bought.

I might hate to leave the comfort of my bed, my shower, and my quiet. But I wouldn’t want to live in any space in which Nia has cohabitated with another man. Every time I got inside her, I would wonder if she remembered having sex with him in the same bed.

“Have you lived in your place with an ex-boyfriend?”

Her face softens. “No.”

“Had one spend the night there?”

Her expression closes up. “I’ve had a sex life; we’ve established that.”

“So that’s a yes?” I clench my jaw and look for alternatives. “Then we need to find someplace else.”

“To live for six weeks? That makes no sense.” She sighs. “Look, before you, I hadn’t had sex in nearly six months. I haven’t had anyone stay over at my place in almost a year.”

I don’t intend to get stubborn, but I can’t seem to help it. “But if you’ve fucked someone else on that mattress, it’s a no for me.”

She scowls at me. “Actually, we fucked on the couch, then we fucked on the bed. What is your problem?”