Page 100 of Just My Fake Husband

“It was. I appreciate him coming. And just so you know, I don’t have any doubts or misgivings about continuing in the career I’ve got now.”

“Glad to hear it.” She gives me a swift kiss, then draws back, her mouth widening in a grin. “I have something for you.”

She digs into a pocket in her dress and pulls out a folded-up piece of paper. “I always swore I’d never do this. Like, ever. But I wanted to start our anniversary night with something lighthearted.”

“Can I see?” I say, reaching for the paper.

“No, I want to read it to you.” She clears her throat. “In fact, go sit over there, please.” She points to the sofa. “Makes it a little nicer if I feel like I have an audience.”

I sit down with a chuckle under my breath, and she starts in, her posture straight, her voice as serious as if she’s quoting Shakespeare.

“In the soft glow of theater light,

his joking dances, a lovely sight.

Two dimples form, like full, round moons,

a secret world where I downright swoon.”

The poem she wrote as a teen about my dimples?

She starts to laugh, and her face stains pink. After I encourage her, she moistens her lips and continues.

“With every smile, his dimples dive,

dancing along in their own little jive.

Deep as the lake, the endless beyond,

in those valleys, where I belong.”

I stand when she finishes, shaking my head and clapping. “That was the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

She scoffs. “It’s truly terrible poetry but my heart was sure in it.”

“I wish I’d paid better attention and gotten to know you and . . .” I hug her, nuzzling in as close as I can. “. . . realized what a precious gift your presence in my life would be. I’m sad all that time was wasted.”

“It’s okay. We can keep making up for lost time.”

We kiss some more until she pulls apart when her stomach growls.

“Maybe we should eat next?” I ask.

“If it’s not tacos, what is it?”

“You mean you didn’t peek when I went to answer the door?”

“I tried! But there were a lot of napkins in the bag, and it was hard to tell!”

“It’s bean burritos, okay? I know, I know. Not romantic in the slightest. But I promised you one, remember? To celebrate our year of marriage and a job well done.”

Her eyes grow large. “Yes! And hey, I want to give you your gift before we eat.”

“Are you sure? You seem pretty hungry.”

She only smirks. “Here’s your present.” She goes on her tiptoes so her lips are right at my ear. “You ready for it, my love?”

“Yes.” A jolt goes through me, shaking me into the knowledge that River’s gift is going to change our lives.

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