I wipe my greasy fingers on a napkin and try to keep my voice lighthearted yet reasonable. Selling people ideas is what I do. This should be easy. Just another day at work.
“I want you to adopt Pig.”
My knuckles let out a light series of pops as I crack them, trying to eradicate some of my nervous energy.
This weird requirement could implode the whole arrangement.
“It’s been weeks,” Luna points out. “She’s probably already in a new home.”
“She’s not,” I say with confidence, though not much happiness. “I texted Paige earlier. She asked Cole, and he said no one has claimed her. Pig still needs a home. Why not here?”
“This … why are you asking for this?” My future fake wife crosses her arms and leans on the table. I’m briefly mesmerized by the way her dark hair swishes forward in a straight curtain. “You can get a dog if you want to. I don’t care.”
“Pig doesn’t like me,” I point out. “She needs to be your dog. But I’ll help you take care of her. Maybe she’ll warm up to me at some point, but you need to be a part of this.”
“You’re not making any sense, Charlie!” Luna stomps to her fridge and comes back with a beer, screwing the top off with a quick flick of her wrist. “I’m asking you to devote more than a year of your life to me, and you don’t want money or concert tickets or favors. You just want me to adopt a dog! Where is your head right now?”
Not completely sure, but when this idea came to me, it just felt right.
Like saying yes to Luna’s proposal.
Still, this take-no-shit woman is not someone to let things go without an explanation, so I come up with one on the fly.
“Okay, it’s like this. You may think this marriage thing is a burden for me, but it’s not. I’m going to live in your house rent-free, no job, and just ponder my future. That’s going to get boring quickly. I need some kind of responsibility. Some regular tasks to take care of during the day to keep me from becoming a couch slug.”
“Which brings us back to you adopting Pig. She’ll be your dog.”
Luna takes a sip of her beer, and I try not to imagine tasting the hoppy liquid on her lips.
My mind scrambles for more reasoning. “No, see, what if on this journey of self-discovery, I realize travel is what I want? Or living in a different country? It’s difficult to cross oceans with a dog.” I meet Luna’s gaze. “You bought this house. You’ve set down roots here. You want to stay in Nashville.”
“Yeah, so?” she asks.
“Then you’re stabler than I am. At the end of the year, Pig needs to be your dog. That way, she still has a home when thismarriage is over.” I brace myself, hoping that Luna doesn’t smell the bullshit I just dumped in front of her.
Because I don’t want Pig to be her dog.
I want Pig to beourdog. I want to have one more thing tying the two of us together. Something to share. Something to keep us connected after the end date of our relationship.
The year hasn’t started, and I’m already mourning the loss of her. I don’t understand this instant connection, other than I’ve felt the pull once before.
With Paige.
Not that I’m pining after my best friend. We tried dating in high school, and I realized that was not what our relationship was. Luckily, we felt the same way, and our friendship only got stronger.
Now Luna Lamont stands in front of me, and I’m drawn to her like a hook sits deep in my gut and she’s holding the end of the line attached to it. At the same time, she’s talking about end dates. And I don’t want whatever relationship we build to end.
From the way I’ve mentally replayed her stripping out of her clothes on the back of that yacht, it’s clear I want more than just friendship. But that might be one-sided. If that’s true, I can find a way to accept the platonic relationship.
But the idea of walking away from Luna completely?
Does not compute.
“Fine,” she huffs, staring at the ceiling like she’s mentally mapping out a new future on the white expanse. “Guess I’m getting a dog.”
I did it? I convinced her?
Keeping my urge to whoop out loud under wraps, I allow myself a small but triumphant smile.