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“Have I told you lately how much I dislike you?” “Mmm,” he hums. “I should warn you, Ken, I like it when you’re mean. It does something to me.” “So that’s why you haven’t left me alone all these years? I should’ve been nice to you all this time, I guess.” “I probably would’ve proposed a handful of times by now if you were. Nice. Mean. I’ll take you any way I can get you.”
She wants to learn so she can be better prepared to date other people. Fuck that. She may think I’m okay with that plan. She may believe I’m happy to help her, but she doesn’t need to learn to be comfortable with another man touching her. The way I see it, no other man ever will.
Our wedding song is on full blast as Isaiah makes his way to the plate, but before he gets there, he turns back in my direction. With the entire stadium singing the song I walked down the aisle to, Isaiah extends his bat, points at me, and winks. He fucking winks. It’s the moment reality hits me… Miller was right. I think I might have a crush on my husband.
“When I’m what, Kennedy?” His voice is loud and angry. “When I’m constantly thinking about you? When I’m trying my best just to get you to notice me? Or when I’m too busy not touching other women. Because I haven’t laid a finger on anyone other than you. Not once. And not just since we got married. I haven’t even looked at another woman since the day I found out you ended your engagement. I would’ve waited for you since the day I met you had I known you weren’t in love with your fiancé. For years, I thought you were happy with someone else. But I only found out ten months ago, Ken. For the
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“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to be comfortable with someone the way I am with you.” Fuck, that didn’t come out right. A heavy pause lingers between us. “I’m sure you’ll get there,” he eventually says. “I know that’s what you want.” It’s supposed to be said in an encouraging way, but his voice is full of defeat. But what if I don’t? The question is on the tip of my tongue because that’s what I meant. I don’t think there’s any part of me that wants to be this comfortable with someone else.
“When we started this game, it was for this exact ending. We got there. The game is over, but I haven’t been playing for a long time. This is real to me. I love you. You’re the person I want to be with for the rest of my life, but I know that night in Vegas, you didn’t mean to choose me.” My throat goes tight with the admission. “Then the game changed, and it was all about you feeling ready for what came next. It was never supposed to be me, Ken. You never wanted it to be me, and that’s okay.”
Crying
All this time, I wanted to practice, plan, and schedule how it’d happen. I wanted to be perfectly ready for love when the time came. But falling in love with Isaiah wasn’t a big, planned event. It was buying toothbrushes and providing food when I was too busy to eat. It was his mother’s ring and eating dinner together in a booth at Chili’s. It was his patience and unwavering commitment to show me my importance in his life. How lucky am I that I get to love and be loved so effortlessly?
