Page 63 of Love What's Left
“Youdid?”
I nod.
He lookstoward the oven then back to me. “You made your homemade pizza. I knew it. Didn’t I say it, Henry? I said, ‘That smells like Sydney’s pizza.’”
His contagious enthusiasm bubbles over, and my cheeks warm. “Yes.”
“Yes. Fu—” He cuts off his “Fuck yes” with a glance at the baby then looks back to me. “If the dietitian hands us our asses, it’ll be worth every second.”
“‘Asses’ is still swearing, Gabriel,” Henry mutters.
My husband ignores him, his hands landing on my hips and swaying us to music only he can hear.
I rest my forehead on his shoulder. “You like my pizza?” Obviously he does. I’m fully fishing for compliments.
“Love it.” He stops dancing and squeezes me in a hug. “Iloveit. And I love that you wanted to make it and have enough energy to do it.”
“I’m taking a nap afterward,” I warn.
His smile turns quieter, but no less satisfied, as he pushes a strand of hair that escaped my braid behind my ear. “Perfect.”
“And I’m taking the first bite,” I say.
“You don’t have to.”
“I want to.” I shake my head, turning serious. “No I don’t. But I want to want to.”
“And that’s practically the same thing,” we say together.
“See what I mean?” Franki asks. “The two of you werealwayslike that. You didn’t fool anybody.”
My husband stiffens. “Did you tell Sydney your theory that we were together the whole time? Because you’re wrong.”
Franki frowns, then in her sweet, cotton-candy voice says, “I know you weren’t official. That doesn’t mean you weren’t in love.”
24
Gabriel
Itug my shirt away from my neck and flap it like a fan. “It’s hot in here. Probably need a repairman to look at the oven. Is it normal for it to give off this much heat?”
Sydney’s full lips purse. “Yes.”
“Diaper-change time.” Henry puts his glasses back on his nose and turns abruptly for the door. “Franki, could you bring the diaper bag?”
Franki grabs the navy canvas bag. “I’ll just take this and help. Supervise. Pass him wipes. I’ll be . . .” She points at the doorway to the hall. “Is half an hour long enough?”
“Long enough for what?” Sydney asks.
“For the conversation you two are about to have. Never mind. I just remembered a . . . thing . . . at the bungalow. So after the diaper, Henry and I will head back to do the thing. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Have fun, you two. Don’t forget you have a pizza in the oven.” Franki waves and heads for the door.
Then they’re gone, and Sydney and I remain, staring at the doorway.
“That was weird,” she says.
“Very.”
She hesitates. “Why was it a secret that we were t-together?”
