Page 40 of Happily Never After

Claire kicked him behind the desk. He had never once mentioned opening a joint bank account. They each had their own accounts, and it had worked perfectly well up to this point. They had only been together for a year. What if Luke broke up with her and ran back to California and she was stuck with a bank account with both of their stupid names on it? Crap, she was thinking about the future again.

“Great,” Vanessa said. “Let’s just get some of the paperwork done.”

Forty minutes later, Claire walked out of the bank with a handful of temporary checks. They weighed down her purse like lead bricks. “You did this because you think I’m poor after taking out the loan,” she accused as soon as they walked outside.

“No,” Luke said, opening her car door and allowing her to step inside. “I did this because you insist on paying me rent, and it makes more sense for us to have a joint account to contribute to for household expenses. Especially while we’re on the other side of the country.”

She crossed her arms. “You’re lucky I have my social security number memorized. You should have asked me first.”

“You mean like when you asked me if you could bring home a blind pug?” He smirked.

He had a point. Dammit.

“One more stop before dinner,” he said with a smile. He was clearly enjoying making her squirm.

“I love you, but I’m going to have to murder you. You’ve given me no choice.” She pulled out her phone and flicked open the app they connected to their interior security cameras. Rosie and Winston were sleeping peacefully in the living room. Thank god.

“Can you wait until after the doc comes out, at least?” He shifted the car into reverse and pulled out of the parking lot.

“Ugh, fine.” As they turned back onto the road, she stuck a hand in her purse. The checks were there, right next to her wallet, bag of dog biscuits, and Taser. She peeked at the corner and ran a thumb over the smooth paper. It was surreal to see their names right next to each other, the address of their first home below. Maybe she should finally spring for those personalized address labels.

Luke turned the music up—a hard rock band they had both listened to in high school—and they drove several more miles without speaking. She fought to fix her attention on the here and now, and the details that whirled endlessly in her mind like a sandstorm quieted.

When they turned into another parking lot, Claire sat forward in her seat and looked around. There weren’t any restaurants in this part of town. The only stores here were a bunch of tire and paint places and her second favorite spa.

“Is there a food truck somewhere?” she asked, leaning even farther forward.

“No. I lied. This is another pre-dinner stop.” He pulled into a parking lot in front of Endive Spa. “Just a twenty-minute hot stone massage.”

When she opened her mouth, he cut her off. “Don’t pretend like you don’t have twenty minutes. Let’s go.”

Claire glanced at her watch as she climbed out of the car. It was already four. He was really cutting into her evening prep time. How dare he be so thoughtful? And more importantly, how was she going to relax for this massage with a literal shitstorm of events hovering on the horizon like a hurricane?

Half an hour later, Claire waddled out of the spa feeling like she had just been cleansed from the inside out with pure, radiant sunshine.

“Better?” Luke asked when they got in the car.

She leaned across the console and kissed him full on the mouth. “I didn’t realize how much I needed that. Thank you. For everything. I’m sorry for being a grumpy, stress-fueled nightmare.”

He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. “You spend too much time trying to take care of everybody else. Now I know you’re antsy and ready to murder me, so we’ll pick up some takeout and head back home. What’ll it be?”

She considered for a nanosecond. “Greek.”

“Greek it is.” He drove off in the direction of downtown.

The two entered the restaurant and ordered at the counter. Minutes later, a teenage boy wearing a flannel shirt came out with a paper bag.

“Street taco!” he exclaimed.

“Jemarcus! I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“It’s not every day you run into a grown-ass woman eating a taco in her underwear in the middle of downtown.”

Her face grew hot. She had last met Jemarcus during her first sleepwalking experience. “How are you? Almost done with school?”

“Yep. I graduate the first week of June, and I’m headed to MIT in the fall for robotics. It’s the craziest thing, apparently at graduation I’m getting a $500 college scholarship from an anonymous donor.”

“Huh.” She brushed a dog hair off her dress, then took the bag from Jemarcus. “That is crazy. Congratulations! Don’t let robots take over the world.”

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