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“I just want to make sure your first day back to school goes well,” she murmurs against his lips.
He pulls back a bit to grin down at her. “I know. And it will. I promise.”
“I forgot who I was talking to, sorry. Mr. Charisma can get anyone to love him.”
Whatever she said makes him laugh. “I don’t know about that, but the only person I care to have love me is you.”
There’s that word again. They use it so often around the house, it’s become kind of the theme. Though Ginger’s still not sure what it means. “I don’t care about anyone else. What I do care about is making you proud. I care about your happiness in general, but especially about you liking it here in Rhode Island.” He pauses for a moment. “But I also care about getting through the next two years of grad school before AI takes any future jobs.”
Bridget laughs at his last comment. “I can’t speak for the future of AI and architecture, but I can speak for myself. I’m happy we left New York. I’m happy living a small life here on campus, opening my own thrift store. I liked the thrill of New York’s fashion world once, yes, but it’s been three years and a lot of perspective. Plus, my love for it all changed when I saw what it does to good people—even Molly quit. She went to a smaller company with a better culture. So I’m more than happy revamping vintage clothes and reselling them. And I love being here for you while you pursue something you really like. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
With a final kiss and a wistful look in his eyes, Will steps out of the house and into the crisp fall air.
* * *
From the kitchen counter,Ginger enjoys her dinner. She remembers with horror how Will started putting her food on the floor when they first moved here. Did he expect her to eat her meals like some common street animal or something? Sometimes she wondered whether he truly understood the family hierarchy. But then she reminds herself that he’s still relatively new here.
Both humans sit at the table enjoying their dinner—something called Taco Tuesday that Bridget has not stopped talking about all day. Ginger chomps down as she watches them interact, each one customizing this “taco” according to their preferences. She notices that Will prefers more meat, which Ginger can’t blame him for. But Bridget goes crazy for what looks like a thick cream.
“We need to talk to the landlord about the shower,” Bridget says.
Will seems mildly alarmed, but is too busy building his taco to pay full attention to Bridget. “The water pressure not working again?”
She sighs. “Not really. It’s like… trickling. A drizzle, really. Really messing up my hair math days.”
He snorts, but is otherwise focused on drizzling the perfect amount of a red sauce over his food. “After we get married, I’ll make sure that we buy a house with the perfect water pressure so your hair math days go off without a hitch.”
Bridget’s eyes widen, her whole body freezes—taco mid-air, mouth open. After a beat Will is clueless of, she blinks a couple of times. “We’re getting married?”
Will sits up straight and drops his carefully crafted taco on the plate in front of him. It takes him a second to answer before looking straight at her. He wipes his hands on a napkin. Takes her hands in his. Looks her in the eyes and smiles sheepishly. “Aren’t we?”
“You… haven’t asked,” she whispers.
He nods with a slight frown. “I am very much aware of this.” He raises her hands to his lips before placing them softly on the table. He goes back to eating his taco, leaving Bridget stunned.
“Are you planning on asking sometime soon?” Her voice is high. It trembles.
Why?
Will takes a bite of his food and takes a considerable amount of time chewing. Is he doing it on purpose or is human food really that bad that it requires ages to chew?
Once he swallows, he wipes his mouth to reveal a smug smile. “Very soon.”
Bridget exhales, eyes on her lap. Her skin changes color that way it always does—Ginger has never seen another human do it quite like her—though she must admit her exposure to other humans has been limited (thank god).
“Okay. Sounds good.”
With a soft laugh, Will leans over and kisses Bridget, digging a hand into her red hair. “I love you, Bridget Quinn. I’m going to love you forever. Thank you for being the best friend, partner, and lover a guy could ever hope to have.”
She sniffles once. Swallows twice. “Ditto.”
THE END
