Back in the kitchen, I shake the canister that holds the concoction which will secretly make me lose weight. My cell is sitting on the counter—no messages or calls from Drew.
Slater walks in and heads straight for the microwave unwrapping his food from the package and placing it in for not even a minute. When he opens the door, the familiar aroma of melted cheese and sliced pepperoni lingers in the room.
“You have pizza for lunch?” I ask, licking the side of my lips to contain the drool. My shake looks like grass clippings blended with muddy water. Very unappetizing.
“Yesterday’s pizza,” he corrects me. “The best kind. Extra greasy from the excess oil.”
“Okay, you’re now my favorite person ever. No one understands how great leftover pizza is. Drew is always throwing it in the trash on a mission to get me to eat healthier.”
He pauses mid-bite, then lowers his head watching me carefully. “You don’t talk about him much.”
“Who? Drew?”
“Uh huh. Your fiancé.”
“Really? I think I talk about him all the time.”
He shakes his head. “So, how long have you been together?”
“A year, technically. But we were roomies for like four years.”
“Friends to lovers?”
“Yes.” I laugh. “Roomies to lovers more like it. And what about you? Why aren’t you married yet? I heard what you said earlier, but you’re one of those rare catches. A lover of all things retro.”
“I guess I haven’t found someone worth marrying. I’ve dated women and had relationships but none worth continuing.”
“At least you aren’t averse to commitment.”
“I think commitment is beautiful, one person to share your life with. Given, it’s with the right person. Until then, happy to be single.” He winks, bringing the pizza to his mouth as I watch hopelessly.
“I don’t miss being single. It’s not for me.” I take a sip trying to relax my gag reflex as the liquid hits the back of my throat. It’s terrible—the women in the infomercial were totally faking it. This does not taste yummy like they said it would.
“I like the solitude. And somet
imes just the freedom of doing what I please,” Slater continues, then falls into silence.
I think about what he’s said. I get plenty of solitude, and for the most part, I do whatever I please. Drew never holds me back from living my life. In fact, he encourages me to get out more, see more things. One of the reasons why I don’t understand his adversity to a honeymoon in Australia.
My cell vibrates in my pocket, and I see Drew on the screen.
“Hey,” he says in a defeated voice.
“What’s wrong?”
“A cruise ship overturned out in the sea, and they’re flying patients in here.”
“That’s awful.” I almost cry. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just going to be a long night… double shifts. I won’t be home until who knows when. I have a couple of moments now if you want to ask me anything, and I’m sorry I can’t do dinner.”
My mind goes blank. “I can handle everything, I guess.”
“I simply want you to be my wife, Zoey. I don’t care how or where it happens. I’m sorry about this morning. I was tired.”
I smile, happy to reconcile. “I want that, too. So, I know work is crazy, but Troy wants to organize a bachelor weekend for you.”
He barely laughs, his tone quieter than usual. “I expected that. Just tell him to text me, and I’ll respond when I can.”