Page 660 of Hell Hath No Fury
Wife.
Not sure if it’s a word that many guys want to hear or if it’s a word that would bring peace to them. But it does to me.
She does it to me.
And just like that, my breaths come easier too.
“No, not Saturday,” I tell her.
“What?”
“Before that. Because I’m done fucking around.”
She studies my face and chuckles. “You were fucking around before?”
“Yes. When I said to wait till summer.”
I only said it because I didn’t want to take her focus away from her classes and soccer. I do that enough already when I drag her around with me for my away games.
She raises her eyebrows. “Well, I told you, didn’t I? Itoldyou. I said, Arrow, we can’t wait till summer. We should get married as soon as possible.”
She did.
I shot her down though. We had a big fight about it. I had to bring her flowers and write her shitty poetry. And watch some stupid chick flick with her that we never got to the end of.
Because I distracted her with other things.
“I’m an asshole.”
Chucking again, she kisses my lips. “Sometimes. But it’s okay. Let me teach you a little something about marriage.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. Rule number one: your wife is always right,” she tells me sagely.
I kiss her lips too. “Is she?”
“Uh-huh.” She comes back with another kiss. “Rule number two: just say yes to everything your wife says.”
“What about what your husband says?”
“Meh. What my husband says doesn’t matter.” When I growl, she laughs and kisses me again. “This marriage thing is going to be a piece of cake.”
I nip her lip then. “You sure about that?”
“Totally. I get a hot, sexy husband who’s also a soccer god. He’ll take me out on rides on his motorcycle. He’ll buy me ice cream and he’ll write me poetry. And he’ll fuck me whenever I want. See? Piece of cake.”
“What do I get?”
“Me,” she quips. “In all my clingy, dramatic glory.”
Her.
I get her.
That’s all I want. That’s what it has been about ever since I saw her, even though I hadn’t known it back then.
Her.
So maybe it will be a piece of cake, this marriage thing.
Because I get to keep her forever.
“Okay, then. Let’s get married,” I say before I kiss her.
My sweet Salem.
THE END
