“Are you sure?”
He squeezed me tight. “Anything for you, my darling wife.”
I grinned, resting my forehead against his lips. I wasn’t worried. My husband had always taken care of me, and I didn’t, for a second, doubt that he’d do the same now. After a moment, he let his arms drop from my waist and led me into the bedroom where he dropped my bags on the bed and pulled me in for a long kiss.
I loved the way he tasted of the cinnamon candies he loved so much, the way he kissed me, the way he held me. I pressed myself into him, reaching behind my neck and grabbing at the tie that held my jumper up and tugging it loose. As I felt it come undone, he tensed, breaking our lips apart. He smiled at me sadly.
“I’m sorry.” He slid his phone from his pocket. I was relieved to realize it wasn’t—as I’d thought—my undressing that made him tense, but rather his phone going off, though I hadn’t felt it vibrating. As he glanced at the screen, I knew the disappointment on his face. “I have to take this, babe. I’m sorry.” With that, he kissed my head and walked out of the room. “You’ve got Barrett,” I heard him call from the hallway.
I tied the straps back around my neck with a sigh and opened my suitcase, beginning to unpack and sort through what would need to go where. What sort of homecoming was this? I’d hoped to be able to spend time with him upon my arrival, rather than him having to go straight to work. I knew how busy he was, and I wasn’t a clingy wife—we both had our businesses to attend to—but I couldn’t hide the disappointment. I missed him.
Once the bag was emptied, I carried my makeup and hair products into the bathroom and put them away carefully, waiting for Barrett to reappear so we could resume what had been so rudely interrupted. He hadn’t seen me in five days; I was desperate to be with him again.
Sure enough, after a few moments, I heard the door open again and heard him call my name.
“In here!”
His footsteps tapped across the hardwood floors, and he reappeared in front of me. I knew from the moment I saw his eyes that the news wasn’t going to be good.
“I have to go into work,” he said.
“What?” I demanded, standing up from where I’d been on the floor, sorting through the various hair oils beneath my sink.
“I’m sorry. It shouldn’t take long. Maybe an hour at most. I just have to sign a few things.”
“And it can’t wait til tomorrow? Or be done electronically?”
“I’m afraid not,” he said. “Trust me, if there was a way to make it work so I didn’t have to leave you, I would do that.” He reached for my hand, and I placed it in his, standing up and resting my chin on his shoulder. I didn’t want him to leave. I just wanted to be with him.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you, too.” He kissed the side of my head. “I promise I won’t be gone long. And when I get home, I’ll draw you a bath, and you can tell me all about your trip. How does that sound?”
I nodded, but it was halfhearted. “Fine.”
He placed a finger under my chin, pushing out his bottom lip. “Come on now. No pouting allowed.”
I rolled my eyes at him playfully.
“Hey, while I’m in, I’ll tell my secretary to clear my schedule for the week after next, okay? I’ll convince the others to take the time off, and we’ll head out. What do you say?”
“Really? You mean it?” My eyes lit up.
“You’re not the only one who can negotiate around here,” he confirmed, kissing my nose. “Okay, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you in an hour.” He grabbed my bottom with a fiery stare, his gaze raking over me. “Don’t take a bath without me.”
With that, he released me and rushed from the room, already back on the phone. “Ryan, I want you to get Billy Higgins on the phone…”
I heard his voice grow fainter as he descended the stairs and made his way across the first floor and outside. When I heard the front door shut, the house practically quaking with its force, I sighed.
I’d already begun planning the trip in my head, sorting through destinations and travel plans. I could already feel the sun on my face, hear the ocean, feel the wind blowing through my hair. I needed the trip more than I realized. If Barrett couldn’t convince the husbands, I’d have to put in a call to the wives.
I nudged the cabinets closed with my foot and walked back into the bedroom, grabbing the envelope of cash from my purse. Then, I lifted the edge of the mattress and removed the small silver key from its hiding place.
Next, I walked across the room and toward the small sofa that sat a few feet in front of our bed, directly in front of the television. I leaned it forward and flipped it over. On the bottom was the space Barrett had hollowed out to place our small, metal cash box inside of. I removed the tape securing it in place and used the key to open it, staring down at all of the cash. Saved up over time and kept out of our accounts. Cash from bonuses he’d made at work. Cash from cons I’d pulled. It was exhilarating. Looking at numbers on the screen of our banking app was one thing but this…this was different. Cold, hard cash I could smell, touch, hell…roll around in it if that’s what I wanted to do.
If I counted it, which I often did, I knew it would all be there.
And now, with the fifteen thousand I was adding, it would be complete.
Our annual splurge.
A sort of slush fund for our vacation each year.
One million dollars.
The trip
