Page 120 of Sharing Shane

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Delia tossed the note onto the table. “Now talk.”

Veronica sighed, defeated. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Are you in love with him?”

“I think so.”

“You think or you know?”

“I think.” Veronica bit her lip. “I’m ninety percent sure.”

“And the other ten percent is fear of what?” Delia asked.

Veronica smiled in spite of her inner turmoil. It was comforting to be so well understood, even if it was uncomfortable. “I don’t know if he wants to be with me.”

“Bullshit.”

Veronica blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I said, that’s bullshit.” Delia shook her head, exasperation and annoyance stamped on her features. “Clearly he does want to be with you. You’ve been dating since you got back from Bermuda, you see each other at least twice a week. He took you with him to that maple sugar circle jerk?—”

“Maple Syrup Festival,” Veronica corrected.

Delia waved a hand. “You say potato. My point is, he likes being with you. He fucks you regularly, he brings you salt and vinegar potato chips when you have your period, for God’s sake, and for the record, I can’t even get Julian to go pick up tampons or a fucking bottle of Midol.”

“Pathetic,” Veronica muttered.

“Tell me about it.” Delia scowled. “I had one more thing, what was—oh yeah. He calls your snoring ‘breathing with emphasis’.”

“It is breathing with emphasis.”

“I roomed with you for three years in college, and trust me, you fucking snore. The fact that he’s willing to indulge your delusion about it is about as pure an act of love as I’ve ever seen.”

Veronica sighed. “What if we don’t want the same things? Long term, I mean.”

“Then better to find out now.”

“It’s not that simple, Dee.”

“It’s exactly that simple. Which doesn’t mean it’s easy.” Delia’s voice gentled. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your future with Shane, if you could have it exactly how you wanted it, what would it look like?”

“I guess a lot like our relationship looks now,” Veronica said slowly. “Just, I don’t know, further along.”

“Are you living together?”

Veronica considered the question. “Yes. At his place, probably. He has his shop set up there, and it’s a nice house. Mid-century modern, very cool.”

“Are you married?”

“I’d like to be,” Veronica admitted. “I don’t need a big wedding, and I’m not in a rush, but I’d like to get married one day.”

“Kids?”

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