Page 83 of Anyone But You
“You’re right, Gio.”
“That’s it? You’re right, Gio?”
“What did you expect?” I asked, chucking the last pillow.
He snorted. “Well, I don’t know, something snarky and threatening, I guess.”
“I’m a changed wom—ohhhh, shit.”
Knox stood there looking proud of himself. “Good, huh?”
“This has to be thebestdamn mattress I’ve ever slept on,” I admitted. I giggled a little when Knox joined me. His pleasured groans were louder than mine.
“Damn…it’s been too long.”
“It sure as hell beats sleeping on the ground,” I murmured. My head had barely hit the pillow, and I was already passing out. A chaste kiss pressed to my lips startled me back to consciousness. I returned Knox’s affection before wishing him a good night.
I woke up several minutes later and was confused whenWaiting to Exhalewas playing on the TV.
“You know what?” I mumbled, pulling myself up. “I’m not marrying you.”
“Why not?” he gasped.
“You’ve just proven you’re disloyal and can’t be trusted. You’re one of those people who watches TV shows with yoursignificant other and secretly watches ahead. Those are the most selfish people ever to exist.”
“That’s different. You’ve already seen this.”
“It’s not different,” I said, taking the remote from him. I changed it toYouTube,selected a white noise station that would play ocean sounds, and tossed the remote into my nightstand drawer.
I settled down when Knox entangled his limbs with mine and was nearly asleep when he asked me, “So, who makes the better pizza? Me or Vince?”
26
Give it to me Straight
Knox
I woke up feeling like I had been sleeping on a cloud, but that euphoric feeling disappeared as soon as I rolled onto my side and realized the angel who should have been sharing the cloud with me was missing.
“Tori?” I called out, thinking she might be in the bathroom. I reached for my cell phone when she didn’t answer and tried texting her, only to be interrupted by notification after notification from Instagram. I despised social media; however, Polly Pocket insisted that Victoria and I were “accessible” to the public in a poor attempt to control the narrative. Victoria and I didn’t give a damn about the narrative. We were alive with all our faculties and in love. We didn’t need to pander to the nosy masses who thought they knew our relationship better than wedid. But here we were, posting pictures of homemade pizza and aged wine.
The comments were nonsensical, and I imagined I lost more brain cells scrolling through the comment section than from the snake venom that nearly ended me. I gave up and swung my legs over the bed, planting my feet firmly on the hardwood floor. I winced when I put my full weight on my injured leg, but eventually made it out of bed.
I relieved myself before completing the remainder of my morning routine and found a suit that I’d picked up in California meticulously laid out for me with a coordinating dress shirt, tie, cuff links, watch, and dress shoes.
I boarded the elevator twenty minutes later with my cane and suit jacket before making my descent to Hell to come face-to-face with the devil.
“Good morning, my lovely wife,” I said, greeting the she-devil who appeared to be putting her finishing touches on breakfast.
“Good morning, Gio. How did you sleep after waking up in the middle of the night and finishing the movie on your phone?” she asked sarcastically.
“Like a fucking baby. Not everyone had a happily ever after, which made the movie even more realistic. Have you seen these comments from last night?”
“Nope. After being without Wi-Fi for three months, I’ve learned that the Internet is nothing but a brain-draining cesspool.”
“I agree, but it makes me wonder if some of these people should be locked up at Arkham Asylum.”
Victoria snorted as she plated breakfast and said, “Okay. I’ll bite. Read me some of the comments.”
