Page 128 of Misfortune and Mr. Right

We’ll get back to our bantering again. I have to believe we will.

I pull up to Gil and Maisy’s a few minutes later. Maisy answers the door and pulls me into a hug. I’ve got the tulips behind my back, so I wrap my free arm around her.

“Don’t worry, Logan. This will all work out in time.”

“I hope so. People work through things like this all the time, right?”

“Tons,” she says confidently.

“Then again, probably a ton of people just decide they’ve had enough. Probably tons of those too,” I say.

“I think those cases usually involve someone who won’t change or is oblivious to their part. That’s not you. I don’t think Olivia wants to lose you.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Maisy’s smile is gentle and warm.

“Heyyy!” Gil shouts, coming through and looping his arm around his wife. “I just made ramen bowls. Nothing fancy.”

“Sounds good,” I say.

I pull the tulips out and hand them to Maisy.

“Tulips? My favorite!” Maisy says. “Thank you, Logan. These are so beautiful. Let me get a vase.”

“Making me look bad, as always,” Gil teases me.

Maisy takes the bouquet wrapped in brown paper and walks toward the kitchen.

Gil claps me on the back. “So, how’d it go?”

“I talked to my boss.”

“And?”

“He was in shock, I think. He said he’ll get back to me.”

“That’s all you can do. Take action and hope for the best.”

“I can’t believe I’ve been this dense.”

“We’re all dense somewhere.” Gil smiles at me. “Ask Maisy. I can be so dense. The point is your intention and your ability to turn this around.”

“I feel so out of my depth.”

“Welcome to relationships with women, my man. Toss the roadmap, lose the compass, unlearn everything you thought you knew. They are labyrinths and riddles.”

Maisy joins us in the entryway.

“Who’s a riddle?”

“Women. You’re the riddles we want to spend our lives solving, the labyrinths we want to devote ourselves to navigating. You’re infinitely complex.”

“Is that so?” Maisy folds her arms over her chest and grins at Gil.

“Only if everything I just said is being taken as a compliment. It was meant as one.”

“I know, babe. It’s a compliment. But we aren’t that complex. We just want to be seen as special. We want you to consider us. We don’t like being overlooked or set aside. Maybe that’s not just women. Maybe that’s all of us.”

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