Page 157 of The Wife Situation

“I’m not,” Weston quips with a chuckle, sipping his wine. “Youalwayssaid when you foundthe one, you’d propose with Grandmother’s stone. I expected it. Everyone else should have as well.”

I swallow hard, feeling blindsided by this revelation. “Easton.”

“Lexi.” He smiles at me, and my heart nearly bursts out of my chest.

It’s more thanjusta ring for him; it’sthering. I’m not sure I can accept something so precious and meaningful; however, if he’s always said that, then he was forced to continue with the plan. Any cracks, and it could shatter.

The moment passes quickly, but we will discuss it.

We glance at the menus that are bound in soft leather. Everything is foreign to me—from the amount of silverware on the table to the names of dishes printed on the vellum paper.

“What are you having?” he asks as he leans in, and his eyes pierce through me.

“What you’re having,” I say with a nervous smile. I’m too in my head.

“Good choice.” He orders for us both.

As our wine is refilled, Billie talks about her fashion line and how far ahead they are on designs and production. She’sbeautiful and elegant, and she has an air ofdon’t fuck with methat surrounds her. Actually, all of the Calloways do.

“So, Lexi,” his mother says. “Do you two plan on having children?”

It’s not a question that should make my anxiety spike, but it does. I place my hand on top of Easton’s, which hasn’t left my thigh since we sat.

“Maybe one day,” I explain. “Who knows what the future holds?”

“Well, I’d love grandchildren before my kids are given another brother or sister.”

His mother isruthless.

“You sound like my mama,” I admit. “In the South, popping babies out right after a wedding is almost like a custom. But after meeting Connor and seeing how great Easton was with him …” I meet Easton’s gaze, and for a moment, it’s me and him, lost in one another. “He’ll make an incredible dad.”

She gives me the hint of a smile. It’s good enough for me.

“Well, you two can borrow him when you’d like. He’s a little terror and he drives his nanny wild. The kid is thirty months old, and I’ve already gone through three different people. The Calloway tantrums are awful,” Katrina says, sipping her wine. “Actually, he’s been screamingLexisince he visited Easton. I suppose you’re the reason why.”

“Aww,” I say, but the smile that was on Easton’s mother’s face transforms into a scowl.

Billie snickers.

“And, Weston, how’s the divorce?” his mother asks.

“I’m having the best time, Mother. You know how that is. Marrying and divorcing, then doing it all over again,” he says with the utmost disrespect in his tone.

Easton sucks in a deep breath. “Don’t,” he tells Weston between gritted teeth.

I don’t feel bad about how dysfunctional my family was. Actually, the Calloways are pretty normal with all their inner drama.

His father speaks up. “I heard you’re into the theater, Lexi. Easton told me you act and sing.”

I smile. “I do. I graduated from NYU years ago. My dream was to perform on Broadway.”

“Easton’s invested in one of the theaters. I’m sure he could make some phone calls.”

“I’m sure he could, but I prefer to earn it and not have it handed to me. Lately, I’ve been thinking about writing a screenplay. A love story,” I say.

“You should,” his father says.

Billie nods, and Easton glances at me.

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