Page 63 of Love is a Game

Bad plan. I might have just fucked it all up.

Then another thought occurs to me.

“Listen, Pen. This is a major deal. One that needs evidence gathered and proper arguments established. I need some time.”

She frowns. “Time for what?”

“The funeral’s Tuesday. And you planned to stay a couple of days longer, right? To finalize the will, meet with real estate people?”

“Yeah, so?”

“Let’s extend our stay. I can put back some meetings. One week from tomorrow, okay? Give me that week.”

She shakes her head, confused. “A week for what?”

I take a breath. “To show you I can step up, Pen.”

She rubs her forehead. “Wait. Are you saying you want a week to convince me you should father my child?”

I nod. “That’s what I’m saying.”

She stares at me for a long moment.

“Fine. Take a week, Tuck. Go your hardest. Now, come to bed.” She sighs. “Let’s get some sleep.”

I pace the floor, thinking.

“Tuck.” She groans. “C’mon. It’s practically dawn.”

She stretches out, pulling the covers over her face.

And a slow smile spreads across my face.

I haven’t lost. Not yet. I have time to plan this out. Time to convince her.

Secure in that knowledge, I let the weariness kick in and squeeze into the narrow bed beside her. And when I wake, with sunlight spilling through the curtains and Pen curled into my chest, it almost feels like I’ve already won.

But there’s no room for complacency. I need to stay on my game.

I map the day out, and even though it doesn’t exactly go to plan, I carry out each activity to my utmost ability:

10:00 AM: Fresh juice, coffee, and fruit toast in bed. Pen pouts—she wanted pancakes. I remind her we’re having lunch at Brady’s parents’ in a couple of hours. Then, she spots the box of condoms. Pout vanishes. Toast goes cold.

10:30 AM: Repeat previous activity.

11:00 AM: Shower. Together. A very prolonged shower.

11:40 AM: Give a friendly reminder—we have lunch plans.

11:50 AM: Another friendly reminder.

12:00 PM: A more urgent reminder. We need to leave in fifteen minutes.

12:20 PM: Gain momentum.

12:25 PM: Nope. Wardrobe change.

“Don’t fuss, Tuck,” Mom says, adding yet another delay as she idly rearranges her potted patio plants. “Nora said ‘one-ish’. They won’t care if we’re a little late.”

---