Page 38 of Green
He cleared his throat. “Yes, but in the most masculine way possible.”
His Waze app told him that our destination was on the right. He pulled over. Ben lived in a small apartment building in Silver Lake.
“Nice place,” he said. “You want me to wait until you go up. In case he forgot about your date and went out?”
“It’s not a date. And he texted me this morning. He’s home.”
“Okay then. Say ‘hi’ to my pal Ben for me.”
I glared at him.
“Call me when you need me to pick you up.”
“I’m sure Ben can drop me off.”
“Well, text me to let me know either way. Have fun, kiddo.”
When he reached out to muss up my hair, it was so annoying, part of me wondered if he was actually trying to piss me off again. Part of me didn’t care. I needed to be pissed off at him. And I refused to feel grateful to him for giving me exactly what I needed, as always.
“Wait,” he said, as I opened the door. He grabbed my hand and held onto my fingertips.
“What?”
“What makes you think it’ll be so easy to go back to the way it was before we got married if we get divorced?”
It took exactly two seconds for my eyes to get watery, and a lump to form in my throat.
“Because…It’s us.”
I sniffled and played with his fingers, unable to look at him when I finally got my voice back, I asked: “What makes you think it’ll be so easy for us to stay married?”
He covered my hand with his.
“Because it’s us.”
