Page 86 of Something Forever

“I’m sorry,” I say into the darkness. It’s easier without her looking at me. It reminds me of Vegas, the way the darkness in the room felt like an opening. A safety net. “I know it seems like I’m keeping secrets and just throwing shit at you, but that’s not been my intention at all. I’m just… I’ve been avoiding my family because I’m worried about their reaction to me dropping out and us getting married. I planned this trip home a while ago, but I haven’t even booked my flights ‘cause I’ve just been pretending it’s not happening.”

For a while, Whitney says nothing, but then she settles into my arms, the tension rolling off her as she exhales. “It’s fine. It’s not like we’re really together or anything. I just don’t like being taken off-guard or looking stupid.”

I squeeze her arm. “You never look stupid. Even if we aren’t… real, we’re still in this together, Whit. We’re a team.”

She turns over, our noses almost touching as we lay side-by-side.

“Okay,” she whispers. “I like that. Team Whit-lee.”

The corners of my mouth tick up. “Whitley? What is that?”

“Our couple name, obviously.” She grins. “It could be Lianey or Whitam.”

Chuckling, I nuzzle my head into her neck and inhale her scent. “Team Clark. Mr. and Mrs. Clark.”

She shoves me playfully, turning back over to her side. “You’re obsessed.”

Tucking her against me again, I close my eyes and settle into the darkness. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face at Whitney’s words. She might be joking, but she’s hinting at a truth I’m trying to ignore.

After a few moments, Whitney speaks again. “Do you want me to come with you?”

I hesitate, taken off-guard by her question. “I just assumed you wouldn’t want to or that you had plans for the holidays…”

I’m hit suddenly with the realization that I do want her to come. Whitney and I haven’t really spent any time apart since we got married, and the thought of spending a week away from her…

One thing I know for sure is that I’d miss her.

A lot.

“Never mind,” she says, pulling away. “It was just an idea.”

I pull her back against my chest. “No. I want you to.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be terribly bored without you. Please come.”

I’m begging. I’m officially becoming pathetic.

“Okay,” she whispers. “We can book our flights tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I reply, and I fall asleep with a smile on my face.

In the morning, I find Caroline in the kitchen, her feet kicked up on the counter as she drinks a glass of orange juice.

“Good morning,” I offer.

She just nods her head at me and picks up a book on the counter, opening to a bookmarked page. I pull Whitney’s oat milk out of the fridge and fiddle with our Nespresso machine.

“Did you sleep well?” I ask, trying to make polite conversation. Hopefully, I can make a better impression this morning, now that I’m feeling less like a pressure cooker turned up to the highest setting.

“Yep,” she answers.

“That’s good,” I reply, setting Whit’s cup to the side while I prepare my own drink. “So, do you plan on staying for a while?” I ask.

She cocks her head at me. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

“Not at all. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. With Whitney’s blessing, of course.”

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