There's such a tiny little part of me that is a shallow, materialistic nightmare most of the time I can forget about her, but the Devil knows how to coax her out of hiding in spite of my best efforts to kill her off, quash her forever and be the free spirited light traveler I was groomed to be before the Devil took over. Now I run a fine balance between being a capable earth mother and a helpless walking nightmare. I'd like to say it's all his fault but I'm loathe to give him anything, including credit at this point.
I was out watering the herbs on the patio this morning when he wanders over oh-so-casually and without preamble drops his latest thought on my head. It was heavy. I'm shorter now and have a headache. Talk about left field.
If this property isn't satisfactory, Neamhchiontach, we can find one that is.
I'm sorry. What?
He takes a deep breath. Everyone has dealbreakers. You have to decide if this is one of yours.
Frankly I don't care if we live in a cave. The discussion was private, the thought was fleeting.
I can have the camper moved, if he won't do it. I can look after virtually anything he won't do, Bridget, and you know this. It worked for Cole and for Ben and it can work for Lochlan too if you stop writing down every single thought that crosses your mind.
Maybe you should stop saying every thought that crosses your mind out loud.
Consider it. Seriously. No man can be everything. Especially to someone like you.
Someone like me. I wondered for hours afterward what he meant by 'someone like you'. And the little tiny part of me that goes for broke (or maybe goes for rich) started jumping up and down yelling Oh boy! We get our house on the beach! SCORE!, even though it will probably never happen.
Because I can't be discreet, and because he'll never settle for second place.
