Chapter 43
FISHER
Is it possible for someone to die from an over abundance of happiness? It doesn’t seem real to be this blissed out and yet I am.
“Turn that way,” I direct Ebba. “The light’s better.”
She does as she’s told, posing in the outfit she spent a decent chunk of time curating this morning before we left the hotel to stroll through the streets of Rome. One day it’ll be nice to settle down and not travel so much for work, but at this point in my life I love it.
Ebba adjusts the sleeves of her green top with some sort of feathery detailing at the wrists.
On anyone else the sweater might look ridiculous, but I’m certain Ebba can pull off anything.
Her cane sparkles in the morning light. She’s never posted photos with her cane before, but a week ago she posted a video to her social media accounts, talking about her accident and her chronic pain and how most days she feels better to use her cane.
Her vulnerability made me fall that much more for her.
“Check these out.” I pass the phone to her and let her scroll through the photos I took.
“There’s plenty to work with here. Thank you.” She beams up at me and it does something funny to my chest, finally being on the receiving end of her brilliant smile again.
Tossing my arm over her shoulder, I pull her close to my side and press my lips to the top of her head. She smells like vanilla and something warm that reminds me of home.
If she’s bothered by me being overly affectionate, she doesn’t show it. In fact, she wraps her arm around my middle. I’m sure we look like one of those grossly in love couples, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’ve waited way too long for this moment.
“Do you think Noah or Elias has a chance of winning Roland Garros?”
Roland Garros is the next Grand Slam, starting at the end of the month in France.
“They both have a pretty good chance. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re not playing each other in the finals.”
Noah and Elias have both been putting in the work. Noah’s extra motivated by the fact that he wants to retire, and I think Elias is motivated by the idea of Noah leaving.
“Wouldn’t that be hysterical,” she laughs softly. “I suppose it makes it both easier and harder in a way.”
“It does,” I agree.
Noah’s my best friend, and the player I coach, so of course I want to see him win. But Elias has become my friend too and now he’s my brother-in-law.
“Six months is coming up,” she says softly, pulling my thoughts away from tennis.
“It is,” I hedge.
I have a lawyer drafting up divorce papers for her.
Even though things are good with us now and I think we both want to stay married, it feels wrong not to give her the choice.
I would be okay if she wanted to get divorced and keep dating and do a real wedding down the road and even though it would crush me, I’d be okay if she decided this was fun for now but not forever and she wants to end things.
And while I truly don’t think either of those things will happen, I still want to give her the choice. She deserves that.
“Hey.” She pokes me in the stomach. “You got quiet on me.”
“Sorry.” I shake my head free of the thoughts. “Just a lot on my mind. Should we get some gelato? I know it’s not a chocolate malt but—”
She gives an excited hop. A small wince mars her pretty face when her feet settle back on the ground. I wish I could take every little bit of pain she ever experiences and bear it myself, so she doesn’t have to deal with it.
We find a gelato shop off the beaten path and lacking with tourists so that we’re sure to get the authentic kind. I order for us and when we have our cones we head back outside so we can continue walking.
“Since when can you speak Italian?”
I shrug. “After we broke up, I had a lot of free time. I’d always been interested in learning, so I figured why not. I’m not fluent by any means, so don’t get too worked up about it.”
“You mean I can’t expect you to whisper sweet nothings in my ear later tonight?”
I laugh. “I wish, but those weren’t really covered in my classes. But I still promise to take care of my wife and tell her what a good, pretty girl she is.”
“Mm,” she hums, licking the gelato off her upper lip. “I like the sound of that even if it’s still weird to hear you call me wife.”
I wince, but she doesn’t notice. “I can stop calling you that if you want.”
She shakes her head. “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just … you know, we didn’t do the whole proper dating again, engagement, then wedding thing so it’s a bit jarring at times.”
I nod as we walk.
And that’s exactly why I want those divorce papers drafted up.