Till Summer Do Us Part(25)

“I’m not comfortable leaving him,” I continue. “Not when I know there are times in his life when he looks to me, when he needs me. I could do whatever I want, but being here, close to him, that’s what matters to me the most.”

“I never really thought about that,” she replies. “Makes me think that the chance of you murdering me is now at an all-time low.”

That makes me laugh out loud. “Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re not just a robot in a pair of jeans and a beanie. There’s a heart in there.”

“Yeah, there’s a heart,” I say. “Beating and everything.”

“Fascinating. What’s that like?”

“Thrilling,” I answer.





“Okay, what’s the plan?” I ask now that we’re out of the congested city and driving on the Taconic State Parkway. “What do you need me to do and most importantly not do? I want to make sure I get this right for you.”

“I’m glad you asked. I was talking to Mika, and he was telling me about your improv classes. I really know nothing about improv, so I’m a bit clueless there, but he told me the first rule to improv is you always say ‘yes, and…’”

“That’s correct,” I say.

“Well, I need you to drop that rule.”

I glance at her quickly. Has she lost her mind? “That goes against the very tenets of improv.”

“I understand that,” she replies. “And I’m sorry to impose such a harsh rule, but I can’t have you out in the wild saying yes to everything.”

“What could I possibly be saying yes to? All the camp activities are nonnegotiable. We have to do them. It’s not like you can pick and choose. Trust me, I was looking for an à la carte option when I was researching.”

“It’s not really the activities. It’s more about who is going to be there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I was speaking to Ellison on Friday and telling her how we’re headed up to the camp, and she happily informed me that we weren’t the only couple from the office.”

“Oh, is she going to be there?”

“She and the Brads and Chad from the office that I can’t stand.”

“Oh shit, really?”

“Yeah, and Chad in particular, as he’s the reason I’m in this whole mess.” She pauses and then adds, “I mean, sure, it was my big mouth that got me into this situation in the first place, but he was the one who questioned me.”

“Tell me what happened,” I say, curious about the timeline of events.

She sighs heavily. “To keep it short and sweet, everyone was bragging about doing something with their significant other this past weekend, and I felt left out, so when it was my turn, I talked about me and my husband. Well, Chad pointed out I wasn’t wearing a ring. I told him we were going through marriage troubles, and that’s when Ellison pulled me to the side. So yeah, he called me out in front of the company. He’s a dick.”

“Sounds like a giant one at that.”

“Yeah,” she sighs. “So he’ll be there along with his nimrod friends. Which makes things more difficult, because I’m going to have to navigate all of them. Not that anyone talks to me in the office, but there were rumblings that Chad was pulled into Ellison’s office for calling me out. Either way, I wouldn’t put it past him to try to sniff out the fraud between you and me.”

“Sounds like a weasel thing to do.”

“I agree. So we need to be on our A game.”

“I’m in. Just tell me what I have to do.”

“First of all, we should never be split up. As much as we can handle it at least. If they separate us, we can’t stand as a united front, and that’s what these next eight days are about: being a united front.”

“Got it. I’m stuck to you for eight days. Good thing for you I have excellent hygiene.”

I can practically hear her roll her eyes.

“Second, we need to be affectionate but not overly affectionate. We’re a couple on the rocks, but there’s still love between us, potential for us to reconcile. So let’s keep it to hand-holding and pelvis-to-pelvis hugs. Side hugs are for strangers, and kissing is for couples who are not having issues. We’re looking for a healthy middle.”

“Got it. Hand-holding, no kissing, definitely no public tongue action, and crotch-to-crotch hugs.”

“I said pelvis-to-pelvis.”

“Isn’t that the same thing?” I ask.

“Yes, but ‘pelvis’ sounds less vile rolling off the tongue.”

“Don’t hate on ‘crotch,’” I say with a smirk that she doesn’t find amusing. Oh-kay. “What else?”

“We need to figure out what the hell we’re fighting about. What our downfall is. The story we came up with during the therapy session was…a little out there.”

“That’s what happens when you’re flying by the seat of your pants. You never know what might be said.”

“No,” she says sternly. “We had a plan, you veered away from the plan, and then we were stuck with me zipping your dick in a sleeping bag.”