Page 5 of The Write Choice

She’s making a hell of a lot of noise, and her movements are starting to turn frantic, so I reach out and press my palm on the cabinet door she’s moving to open next. She stops, grunts in frustration, and looks up at me. Our bodies are close together, and I tower over her. I’ve always been tall, but she’s also relatively short, so the top of her head barely reaches my shoulder. We are closer to each other than we have been in months, and I catch the sweet floral of her perfume. I try not to groan.

I have her cornered, leaning against the cabinet, and her eyes glimmer. I can’t tell if it’s a flash of indignation or if it mirrors my own desire. Probably the former.

“What are you looking for?” My voice is huskier than it was a minute ago, and from the slight upturn of one corner of her mouth, I can tell she registers it. She’ll probably use it against me, but I don’t care. I haven’t wanted her this badly since she iced me out right after Mason was born.

“Food,” she says, her voice flat.

“Food?” I try not to sound relieved.

“Yes. Food. My therapist told me yesterday that when I feel like punching you in the face, I should try a snack first. Something about regulating my blood sugar to help my mood.”

I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. My guess is this is somewhere between a joke and the truth, so I lean forward slightly. Playfully. She tries to hide the little rumble in the back of her throat at my proximity. At least there’s some desire, then.

Emboldened by this realization, I let myself smile. Her gaze falls to my mouth, then meets mine and there’s a flash again.

“I’d like to see you try to punch me in the face, Cat.” Then, I lean slightly closer. “We can tumble around a little if it’ll help you get some of that aggression out. Could be fun.”

She furrows her brow and pierces me with a skeptical look. Dammit, I took it too far.

“You’re in the guest room until I say otherwise,” she almost whispers. If I’m not mistaken, she doesn’t sound completely committed to this declaration, but I lean back slightly in deference to her.

“Am I in the guest room here or in Leade Park?” I consider for a moment, then add, “Or we can find a new place in Chicago, if you’d rather.”

Her attention shifts to something over my shoulder as she considers the question. After a moment, she sighs. “This promotion means that much to you?”

I make a small movement so I’m in her line of sight, forcing her to meet my eyes again. “You and the kids mean that much to me. The promotion, the house, it’s all means to an end, and the end goal is spending more time with you.”

Her blue eyes bounce back and forth between mine, and I can tell from the look on her face that she’s verifying my statement. I hope she can tell I’m being sincere, because even if it was stupid to try and surprise her with this move, I am telling the truth. I want to be a good husband and a good dad, and I want to get her away from this life that has left her a dimmed-down version of the woman she was when we met. I know this is the way to do it.

“When would we have to leave?”

I’ve got her. I know I do, but I also know she needs to draw it out a little longer. She’s not going to start making this easy on me now.

“The house is empty, and the sellers want to close quickly. I thought we could go out there in a week or two. Spend Christmas there.”

“Absolutely not. We’re having one last Christmas here, in New York.”

“I have to start January first.”

“The first is a holiday. If you want to be around more, you can start by taking your holidays off.”

“Fine. The second, then. But I want to get set up in the house before I start. We can have Christmas here, but not New Year’s.”

She folds her arms over her chest again, and I catch another whiff of her perfume. Being unable to kiss her is agonizing.

“I want to stay here for New Year’s.”

Now, she’s just being difficult, but I don’t want to lose her to her stubborn anger again. “You can stay for New Year’s,” I bargain, “but I have to go out there right after Christmas. I will take care of moving all the stuff out of this place, and I’ll set it up there. It’ll be ready to go when you and the kids arrive.”

She chews on her bottom lip as she frowns at me. I’m sure she doesn’t like this offer, but it’s the best I can give. I don’t want to have to deal with starting a new position, trying to prove to Katie I’ll be around more often, and a cross-country move on top of it all.

“Fine,” she says, resigned. “We’ll move to Leade Park.”

I almost fall to my knees in gratitude and relief, but I stop myself. “You’re not going to regret this, Katie.”

“You get two months, Brandon. Keep this place, too, because if I still hate the Midwest on March first, I’m coming back here with the kids. You can decide then if you’re coming with us or staying there.”

She begrudgingly extends her hand so we can shake on the deal. There’s no way I’m going to let her come back here without me, and there’s no way I’m giving up the opportunity to lead the Chicago firm. I’d better start thinking about all the ways I can make her fall in love with Leade Park. Hopefully, in the process, she’ll fall so much more in love with me, too. I definitely have my work cut out for me, but I’m up for the challenge.