Page 42 of Until Tomorrow
“I know. I just…” I blew out a slow breath.I just what? Didn’t know how to do this? Wasn’t sure I could?I’d had divorce papers drawn up for this literal reason. “No, you’re right. I know you’re right.”
“Hey.” She swiveled on the stool to face me. Her hands comfortably rested on my thighs as she watched me closely. “All of this… it makes you anxious, doesn’t it?”
God, I loved this woman and the importance she put on helping me with my anxiety.Especially considering I didn’t understand it. It hadn’t been a thing for me growing up, but the older I got and the more hectic life became, the worse it was. I didn’t want to see anyone about it, so I strong-armed my way through anxiety attacks, but Eva saw the worst of it. Hell, even Elliot didn’t see this part of me.
“It’s a really big life change, Eva. I don’t…” I struggled to figure out the words to say while my heart kicked up in my chest. “I’m thirty-eight. I just… the idea of dating in general at this point is off-putting, but dating men? I don’t know… it’s…”
“Scary? Anxiety-inducing? Makes you want to crawl into a pile of blankets and never come out?”
“Something like that.” I chuckled. “I just don’t know what I’m doing.”
“Whatever happens, Logan, you have me,” Eva told me quietly. “I’ll always be here. I mean that. It’s scary and stressful and new, but you’re not doing it alone.”
But was I better off doing this alone?I studied the conviction in my sweet wife’s face. She said the words, and I wanted to believe her, but that stupid voice in the back of my head nagged me about it. And sometimes, that stupid voice won out.
“Do you really want to be a part of all of this, honey?” I asked her quietly. “No one would blame you if you didn’t—I wouldn’t. You didn’t sign up for—”
“I signed up for everything. I want to be a part of your everything, Logan,” she interrupted, her tone gentle and not at all condescending. She touched the day-old scruff on my face and brushed her fingers along my jawline. Her touch was simple and comforting. “I know it’s easy to let the anxious thoughts win, but please… hear my words, okay? And trust me. Not the thoughts. I can’t make you do anything, sweetheart, so if you tell me you don’t want to do this… we won’t.”
“No.” I leaned into her palm as I sighed. “I know enough logically to know that’d be the anxiety talking.”
“Good.” She kissed me once. “I’m not throwing you out onto the street with adate mesign. I promise.”
“Thank fuck,” I grumbled.
“I thought we could work on building your profile today onTumble. It’s a small start. Baby steps.”
“Baby steps,” I agreed.And despite it all, I closed my eyes and sank into the comfort of her hand on my face for just another moment.She let me—she always let me. She did a damn good job taking care of me. Did I return the favor? Was I doing my part as her husband? My glaring house issues told me I wasn’t. As I opened my eyes, I asked, “And your profile?”
“Oh, I have six versions drafted already,” Eva said ever so flippantly, and I laughed.How very Eva.“I just have to decide what works best for me. But today is about you.”
“So, what are you looking for in a man?” Eva’s question made me freeze—a deer in headlights. We sat in bed with snacks and drinks and some crime show going on in the background while I worked my way through filling out the app profile. The damn thing was much harder to figure out than I thought it’d be.I also now understood why Eva had six possible versions.“Do you have a type?”
“I…” I managed to get a single word out—a vowel really.I didn’t have a clue what my type was or whatnot.
“Okay… not sure yet,” she said. “That’s okay. They have a curious and learning option on here. That’ll be good for you. Do you know what you look for in dating?”
“You?” I replied dumbly. Those pretty eyes narrowed. She was having none of my shit. “I’ve only ever dated you, honey. And we didn’t even date… we just sort of… well, you punched me in the face, and I decided to stick with that.”
“Should I put punching you in the face as your standard of dating?” she asked.
“Good God, please don’t.”
“Well,” she clicked her tongue, “what kind of human do you want to be around? You have to have some things you’re not looking for. Like if… an eighteen-year-old messaged you—”
“No,” I cut her off quickly, practically shuddering at the thought. “Absolutely not. That’s way too young. No one under thirty. Though thirty might be pushing it. Am I too old for the dating game at this point?”
“No, sweetheart, you’re not. But you just might be called Daddy depending on how young you pick.”
Her hushed giggles made me look at her. When I did, she covered her face.
“You find this funny, don’t you?”
“I just can’t get the picture out of my head of some eighteen-year-old kid calling you Daddy. The talking to you’d give him!” She broke down laughing harder, and I couldn’t help but smile.
“My dating profile is so specific,” I said dryly. “Must not punch me in the face on the first date, and must not call me daddy.”
Eva dragged the pillow over her face, the sound of her laughter increasing until she was wheezing. I chuckled as I grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles.
