Page 71 of Better Daddy
Dating, maybe? Am I really dating my husband?
My lips twitch, and my smile grows. With my toothbrush in my mouth, I look ridiculous, like a damn schoolgirl with a crush. But I can’t shake this giddy feeling.
I totally have a crush on my husband.
Just thinking of his face tonight when the rain came down against the plastic shell of our cart makes my heart pitter-patter. As we rode toward Central Park, the sheer panic etched into his expression made it evident just how hard he was trying. Six months ago, getting Sully to take ten minutes to have dinner with me felt like a chore, but now he’s going out of his way, even when it’s uncomfortable, to spend time with me and make it meaningful.
I appreciate it. And I’m working hard not to focus on the past. I’m determined to let it all go, to believe that hecan change. Maybe this separation was what we needed. Not a permanent parting, just a reality check. A taste of what it would be like if we continued failing one another.
Once I’ve rinsed out my mouth, I survey myself for another second. Our relationship wasn’t the only thing that needed work. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself. I became a person I didn’t recognize. A person, quite frankly, I didn’t like very much.
When “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones starts, I pick it up and, toes tingling, I bounce around in my little happy place. Eyes closed, head tossed back, I dance, laughing at myself and with myself. This is another thing I missed. Me.
I stop, planting my feet a little wider, because all the spinning made me a little dizzy, and unlock my phone so I can text Sully. He’d get a kick out of me dancing in the bathroom. Before I can pull up his contact, the curtain to my stall rustles.
Excited that he came to find me, I spin, wearing a huge smile, ready to pull him in to dance with me. Instead of my six-foot-something husband, I find Lo, wearing pajamas, her head tilted to the side, like she’s trying to figure me out. “Didn’t know Sloane’s had dance parties on Wednesday nights,” she teases.
I snort. “Sloane’sis full of surprises.”
Lo nods. “Sure is.”
I turn the music down and focus on my friend. “What’s up?”
She shakes her head, her red hair swaying, then pins me with a suspicious look. “Nothing. How was yourwork meetingtonight?”
Oops. Clearly I was too optimistic when I convinced myself our friends would believe that Sully and I had meetings on the same night. I’m not ready to explain whatever this is, though.
“It was fine. You know how work is.” I turn back to the mirror and pick up my face cream, distracting myself in the hope that Lo won’t try to read my expression.
“Hmm, yeah. So weird that you and Sully both had meetings so late. Especially because Sully hasn’t had a single dinner meetingsince we moved to Jersey. Matter of fact, I can’t remember you ever having one either.”
I just shrug.
“Speaking of work…” Lo’s tone is more serious now, rather than teasing, drawing my gaze to her in the mirror. “I wanted to get your opinion on a case.”
I spin and lean against the sink, waiting for her to continue. “Okay?”
“Did I tell you Cal and I have been going to yoga?”
I let out a surprised laugh. “Seriously?” Forget about the case she mentioned. Just picturing my ridiculously tall brother-in-law twisting himself up to impress his girlfriend makes me giddy. Cal is the sweetest kind of guy, and he’s head over heels for Lo. I’m glad they have each other. But still, the image makes me giggle.
Lo’s entire face lights up like she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “He’s so annoyingly good at it. Like seriously, the man has this insane balance, and his form is so stupidly perfect. I want to knock him over every time he sticks his ass up in the air and winks at me while he nails downward dog.”
She blows out a breath and rolls her eyes.
“All the women in class are obsessed with him. I always thought I had decent balance, but he’s so damn good it’s annoying.” Arms crossed now, she frowns.
I laugh harder. I can envision the entire thing. “God, I’d pay to see that. When are you going again?”
“Funny you should ask,” she says, a twinkle in her eye.
“Oh god,” I mutter, bracing my hands on the sink on either side of me.
“Come on. It’d be a fun double date.”
I turn back to the mirror, snagging my hairbrush. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Fine,” she says. “You can pretend you’re not secretly dating your husband if you promise to meet with this client.”
