Page 110 of Not You Again
“I don’t want your money, and I don’t want to be your girlfriend.” She swallows after she says it, like it was bitter on her tongue.
My hands fall away from her body, preparing to let her walk out of here, because there’s no world in which I keep her.
“After all this”—she gestures weakly to the walls of the room—“there’s only one thing I want from you.” She takes a step to the side so she can scoop the divorce papers off the table.
“What do you need me to do?” I ask, terrified her answer to that question is go. I’ll give her any goddamn thing she wants, but I’m not sure I can leave on my own volition. My feet are rooted to the spot, and I’m suspended in time.
She holds the divorce papers between us. I swallow, unable to stop my racing heart. Her whisper is a gunshot in the silence.
“Stay.”
My lungs seize, and I’m afraid to break the fragile quiet between us in this room.
Her eyes search mine for the longest minute of my life. She’s the one to break the silence with a trembling plea. “Kit, just … stay. Be my husband. Let me be your wife. We have been downright awful at this marriage thing, but I don’t want to start over. I love what we have, and I wouldn’t change any of it. So … stay. Please.”
I blink, unable to tell if I’m hallucinating. Andie is asking me to stay married to her? After I failed her over and over, she still wants … me?
She chose me.
“Kit,” she whispers, shaking the papers between us. “Say something.”
I let out the air in my lungs and say with a laugh, “My mom is going to be so insufferable when she finds out she was right.”
“About what?”
“You.”
She tilts her head in question. “What about me?”
Like those words broke the space-time continuum, I startle into motion. I take the papers from her and toss them to the side haphazardly, closing the space between us as she gasps. She melts into me as I pull her so close I can feel her heartbeat in tandem with mine.
“Burn that damn document. You’re perfect.” I tangle my fingers in her hair and drag her lips to meet mine. “I’ll stay.” I steal her gasp with a kiss. “I love you; I’ll stay.” I repeat the words between kisses, over and over, until we’re breathless with it.
She drags her thumb along my bottom lip. “You bought a house?”
“Not yet.” I wince. “I wanted to make sure it was something you like … I mean, you don’t have to move in, or anything, if you—”
“Of course I do.” She smiles. “We’re married. And someone has to make sure I eat.”
I laugh.
“One more thing.” She presses her forehead to mine. “Or … two more things.”
“Anything,” I agree without knowing the details, running my thumb along her jaw, awed by even this small piece of her.
“I’m not changing my name,” she says with finality.
I can’t help but smile when I shake my head. “I’d never ask you to, Andie. Besides, your name is a brand now.”
She smiles, biting her lip. I take the invitation to pull her close and kiss her again.
“And the second thing?”
She has a twinkle in her eyes as she tells me, “I’m keeping that pencil.”
My laugh echoes in the small room. I lift her off the ground and kiss her hard on the mouth. “Keep it. I’ll buy you ten more.”
She shakes her head. “I love that one because it’s yours.”