We live in that little cottage to this day. We write and we kiss and we do other stuff too. There are no TVs in our house. Jase taught me how to look out at the ocean and imagine whatever I wanted to.
About three months after I moved in, he said, âDo you want to live here with me forever?â
âAt least nine months out of the year.â
âWhat will we do for the other three?â
âYou can still do math, doofus. Iâm impressed.â
We were sitting in chairs, watching the sun go down. âYour hair is flying everywhere, Medusa. If I touch it, will it bite me?â
âYou never had abs. I still canât believe you wrote that.â
He chuckled. âItâs fiction, baby. Whatâs on your mind? Why canât we travel more?â
âWe can travel during the summers, but during the school year, weâll have to be home.â
âI thought you were giving up teaching,â he said.
âItâs not for me.â
âI wouldnât be caught dead in a classroom, you know that.â He was laughing. He already knew. Jase always had foresight, and we werenât characters in anyoneâs book.
âNot for you either,â I said.
He leaned in, kissed me, and then put his hand on my belly.
He already knew.