Page 133 of The One I Hate
I push back the tears that threaten every time I have this thought, because it always makes me think of my mom. I wish she was here. I wish I could share this with her. There have been so many times I’ve wanted to call her to ask her about random things I’m feeling, or ask her what I liked as a baby in case Baby Bug likes or dislikes the same things.
When she passed away, I thought of all the things she’d miss, and this was one of them. But I didn’t realize then how much it would hurt when those things happened.
But they do. They hurt like a bitch.
“Hey, you okay?”
I turn to see Simon leaning against the door.
“Yeah. Just a little caught up in the moment.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything. I wipe away my loose tears and tie the robe before he walks with me back to the living room. And when I see the takeout boxes covering every inch of the coffee table, I’m crying for a whole new reason.
“I loved you before, but I love you even more now,” I say as I take a seat. I grab the box labeled “mozzarella sticks” and openit to be greeted by six perfectly fried pieces of cheese, and extra marinara sauce.
The man knows me too well.
“ERMYGERD.” I know it’s not a word, but that’s the appropriate response for a foodgasm. My nonsensical word turns into a moan when I feel Simon taking my feet and swinging them so they are now on his lap. “What are you doing?”
“You said you were on your feet all day.”
Between the fried cheese and Simon’s thumbs working into my arches, there’s a very good chance I’m going to have an orgasm in three seconds. “Remember when I said I loved you more like five seconds ago?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s even more now.”
He laughs. “Eat. Let me work my magic.”
And he does. I can’t even finish my mozzarella sticks because I’m basking in the feeling of Simon’s hands working my feet and legs. I know I said I wasn’t in the mood for sex earlier, but that was then, and this is now, and if he keeps this up we’re about to check the couch off as another spot in this house we’ve christened.
“So I was thinking,” he says as he switches feet.
“Should I be scared?”
“Ha. Ha. Keep that up and I’ll stop.”
“Never mind what I said. You were thinking, and I’m sure it was the most profound notion ever.”
“That’s what I thought.” He sends me a wink. “No, I was thinking about baby names.”
“Oh,” I say, not expecting that. “Yeah, I guess we should start talking about it.”
“Exactly. I was thinking, and I’m not saying I nailed it on the first try, but I’m pretty sure I nailed it on the first try.”
Okay, now I am scared. “Care to share with the class?”
My favorite shit-eating grin grows on his face. “Simone.”
Of course he would…
“Really? Simone?”
“Yeah. I think it’s great.”
“I think you’re an idiot.”
“Well, at least I have a name. What suggestion are you offering?”
