Page 59 of Partnering with the Artist

Chapter 21

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I think it’s safe to say: Harry is not just stinky and stupid. He’s thestinkiest and stupidest.

Maelin

“What’s this?” I ask when, upon reaching Zakery’s room for work this lovely Friday morning, he plants a stack of papers in my hands and stares at me with the crazy eyes of a man who is surviving completely off the coffee he’s drinking.

“A thing.” He sips. “That I did.” Wild manic fills his irises as he misses the timing for blinking both his eyes in unison. “Mm.” He lifts a finger off his mug, sips some more, and spins me around with his free hand, guiding me across the hall, to my studio. Seating me at the desk, he nudges my sewing machine back to make room, then peruses my supplies for a pen, which he sets before me. Satisfied, he drops to the floor and crosses his legs.

“Zakery…” I begin, carefully setting the stack of papers down and removing my sunglasses in the pleasant lighting my dark studio affords. “Did you sleep at all last night?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“For how long…?”

“I passed out, once, forat leastten minutes.”

Oh-kay.

“Zakery, honey…do we need to take a nap today?”

His smile evaporates. He lowers his mug. “T-together?”

Um.

Well.

That’s what I get for using the royalwe.

And yet there’s not really harm in it, right? I’ve always wanted a boyfriend who would cuddle with me. Who I feltsafecuddling with. Harry generally expected more, then he’d get upset when I stopped him. So safety was not abundant in that relationship.

Yep.

Confirmed.

Harry sucked.

Big over him. Big,bigover him.

Big, big stupid of me to let things go as far as they did.

But it’s over now, and it helps no one if I beat myself up about what could have been. That would further my stupidity, letting Harry continue to affect me, when he has no right. The past is the past—I am actively choosing to learn from it instead of wallow in it.

I ask, “Would you…be comfortable with napping together?”

“Very much, yes.” He knocks the crawling daze off his face with a quick shake of his head. “Yes. But. First.” He nods at the papers.

Reassured that he’ll be getting some sleep today, and perhaps a little excited that we’ll be testing out cuddle time, I look at the first page.

Front and center.

Do you want children? (Circle one.)

Yes. No.

If yes, how many?

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