Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82945 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I laugh softly. “You want me to be actually married to him?”
“Maybe date a little first before you take the plunge.”
“Too late for that.”
“It’s obvious you’re into him, Fiona. Every time we talk, you’re constantly going on about him. Why not just say fuck it and… fuck him?”
“I thought he was a toe-collecting psychopath?”
“Don’t get cute with me. You’re into him, he’s got to be into you. Just go for it.”
I glance away from the screen. “That’s the thing, I’m not sure he is.”
Gareth seemed into me down the beach, but since we’ve been back? He pulled into his shell again. It’s all, up early for work, home late, bed immediately. He’s either working out or doing lawyer stuff. I haven’t been able to talk to him about things, not without sounding like I’m needy and obsessed or something.
“You’re crazy if you think that. Look at you, Fiona! You’re hot as fuck and super smart. Just stop playing this game and go for it. Sorry, hold on.”
Cait shouts at her dog again. I try to picture dating Gareth, but it seems impossible—we’re living together, we’re married, it’s like the dating phase is way behind us.
There’s a knock at my apartment door. I jump in surprise, craning my neck to look down the front hall.
“Someone’s here,” I say. “Gotta go. See ya.”
“Rex, damn it, stop doing—”
I hang up before I find out what trouble Rex has gotten into. The knocking stopped and hasn’t started again, so I’m thinking it was a package delivery. I head over, crack open the door, and peer out.
There’s a box on the ground. I stoop over, curious. Gareth rarely buys stuff online. I turn it over, checking the label—
It’s addressed to me.
I pick it up and carry it inside. The box is moderately heavy, rectangular, not too big, but not small either. I place it down on the table, staring like it’s a bomb. Curious, I shoot Gareth a text.
Fiona: Did you send me a package? Something just showed up.
Gareth: Strange. A mystery package. Open it.
I’m smiling to myself as I type.
Fiona: You sent it, didn’t you?
Gareth: I will neither confirm nor deny that. Open it.
Fiona: If it’s lingerie, I swear.
Gareth: I wish it was. And you swear, what? You’d wear it for me?
Fiona: I’ll make you wear it.
Gareth: I look good in fishnets. Open the box, Fiona.
I grumble to myself, trying not to smile, before grabbing scissors and cutting it open.
Inside is a shoebox from a new climbing company I’ve been really into lately, Adirondack Peaks. I blink rapidly and my heart rate doubles.
Fiona: Did you get me climbing shoes????
Gareth: Might have. Do you like them?
I open the box and suck in a breath. It’s their top-of-the-line model, their best shoe, the sort of thing I could never, ever afford on my own. I’ve been lusting after these for a really long time. And they’re in my size. He must’ve looked at my old climbing shoes to figure out what I wear.
This is the most thoughtful gift anyone has ever given me.
Fiona: You didn’t have to do this.
Gareth: Things have been weird between us since we got back from the beach.
Gareth: I wanted to do something nice.
Fiona: Well, this is nice. Thank you. I love them.
I’m grinning to myself as I sit down to try them on.
Like a dream, they fit perfectly.
“Damn it,” I whisper to myself, laughing like a maniac, thinking about what Cait said.
Should I really set aside the no-sex clause?
Try to make this fake thing into something more?
I’m tempted. And this spontaneous gift tempts me even more.
It’s a bit of a mixed signal—he pulls away into his work, but then he does something like this.
A gift that suggests he actually knows me and pays attention to what I want.
He’s obviously into me too—I think Cait’s right about that.
What does that mean for us though? Our relationship is complicated enough without catching feelings.
Except that seems to have already happened.
Chapter 28
Fiona
I’m not a great cook so I order from his favorite take-out place, this barbecue restaurant a couple blocks away. I have everything set up when he gets home, looking exhausted from a long day at the office. I want to do something nice for him—the way he did something nice for me.
A small surprise to ease some of his tension. Maybe even to bring a smile to his face.
The more I’m around him, the more I think he needs this sort of surprise in his life. He has his friends, his work, but he spends so much time doing things for other people.
He deserves to have something done for him for a change.
“Here’s to a long day,” Gareth says, pouring two glasses of wine and toasting me.
“Here’s to very thoughtful gifts.”
He sits down with a sigh, takes off his tie, rolls his sleeves up to show off his lovely forearms, and starts to eat. I watch him for a moment, picking at my plate, my guts a nervous roil, but Cait’s right. If someone’s going to make the first move, it might as well be me.