Page 83 of Things Left Unsaid

Today was like a Pap smear—important but something to endure and definitely a task to handle alone.

“It was impersonal but pretty.”

And he tried. I have to give him that.

I even pressed two of the wildflowers from the bouquet he bought for me between the pages ofPersuasion—a favorite of mine.

“Explain.”

“He took us to this club where there was a kind of greenhouse?”

“Bleugh.”

“No, not that type of greenhouse. There was no fertilizer, Tee,” I snipe. “Like an… orangery? It was ornamental. All glass. But Victorian. Very pretty. It was unexpected. I didn’t even know men’s clubs still existed.”

“Me neither. Who were your witnesses?”

“Strangers.”

At least, for me. I think the guy was Colt’s attorney, and all I know about the wife is that she channeled Cruella de Vil. Complete with the fascination for animal prints—Tee would have hated her.

“Jacobie’s such a jackass for not giving me time off. I should have pretended to be sick.”

“Like you’d keep up that subterfuge.”

She huffs. “Where’s the husband?”

“Showering.”

As soon as I whisper the words, I regret them.

“Lord above. I bet he looks sexier wet. I envy men.”

“Why?”

“They get to see themselves naked.”

I huff through a laugh. “Your logic, Tee, I swear.”

“Plus, it’s awkward using a showerhead.”

“Tee!”

“What? It’s true. Tell me it’s not.”

“You put it between your thighs, Tee, and direct the spray. You’re doing it wrong if you think that’s complicated.”

“Lot easier to have a pole in front of you that you stroke a few times.”

“Only in your brain. At least we don’t have clean-up duty afterward.”

“True. Never trust a man’s sock.”

“Thank God I was out of the house before the triplets hit puberty.”

“Ewww. Three times as many socks. They get hard and crusty?—”

“I don’t need to know this!”