Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100332 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 401(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Sara looked up from her spot at the kitchen table, where she clung to her coffee mug. “What do you mean?”
I motioned my pointer finger between us. “I mean this. We’re married. I know we had a horrible start, but I don’t want things to keep being horrible. I want a real marriage. I want you to feel like my wife, not a stranger.”
I could see the questions in her eyes.
I sat across from her. “And I’m not talking about sex, okay? I’m talking about us never spending time together.”
For Sara to ever be comfortable having sex with me, she needed to be comfortable in my presence. We needed to become more than strangers.
“We could watch a movie together when you come home tonight from work,” Sara suggested softly. I was glad she was open to the idea.
“What kind of movies do you like to watch?” I asked. I dreaded a romantic movie marathon. I doubted we were ready to see happy couples on screen.
“I love historical movies.”
I chuckled because I should have seen it coming. She was majoring in art history, and most of the books in her room were historic tomes. “Okay,” I said slowly.
“What do you like?”
“Action movies, science fiction, fantasy.”
She looked thoughtful, then she shrugged. “Many historical movies have lots of action, and many series have a historical setting that is fantasy. Maybe we could start with Saving Private Ryan? I watched it a long time ago and loved it. I’d love to see it again.”
“Why not? I’ve never watched it.”
I came home with a bucket of chicken wings, and Sara had prepared mac ’n’ cheese to go with it. We settled on the sofa in front of the TV. Even though we were almost an arm’s length away, I counted it as a win. Still, I wanted nothing more than to reach over and pull Sara against me. She looked particularly beautiful tonight in a short, very soft white sweater and a purple corduroy skirt. She pulled her tight-clad legs under herself and gave me a small smile.
I was glad we’d opted for a movie and not a dinner that would burden us with conversation. I wanted our first dates to go smoothly and not end in utter awkwardness.
I switched on the movie.
Halfway through it, I raised my eyebrows at Sara. “This wasn’t what I expected from you.”
She tilted her head. “Because of its brutality?”
I nodded. I didn’t have trouble with ripped-off limbs, but I would have thought that Sara was too squeamish for it.
“History has many gruesome moments. You can’t study any kind of history without paying attention to the most barbaric moments in time. Do you hate it?”
“No, it’s actually quite entertaining.”
“For a historic movie,” Sara said with raised eyebrows.
I shrugged with a chuckle. “No, it’s really good. But I won’t turn into a history buff, sorry. I’m not that kind of guy.”
“I know.”
I frowned, wondering if our differences bothered Sara. “Was Paolo interested in history?”
I wasn’t sure why I even brought him up. He’d never been a topic in our marriage. From what I heard, he had already married a young woman from Baltimore.
Sara angled her body to me and put her arm up on the backrest. “Paolo?” She shook her head with a look of honest confusion. “I don’t know. I never spent time with him. And I don’t expect you to like the same things I do. Or do you expect me to enjoy guns and knives, and…”
She trailed off, probably referring to violence or something of the sort. Maybe this was the best proof of how little we knew about each other. “That’s part of my job. It’s not all there is to me.”
She flushed. “So you don’t like it?”
“No, most of the time I do. But it’s not what’s really important to me.”
“Then what is?”
“My family, our dogs, the woods. I love the outdoors and the sense of freedom it gives me. Nature’s rules are simple; humans are complicated.”
Sara let out a small laugh. “That’s true.”
“You used to love pottery, but you haven’t done it since we got married.”
Embarrassment filled her face. “I haven’t used your gifts yet either. I know.”
“I didn’t say it to make you feel guilty. I just want to know why.”
She looked down at her fingers, which were playing with a loose thread on her white wool tights. “I loved the moments of pensiveness I had when I did pottery. I don’t enjoy being in my head as much anymore.”
I grimaced, realizing why. “You could do pottery in a more distracting setting. That way, you wouldn’t have to be in your head.”
“But where could I do pottery here?” she asked, motioning around us.
“I could make some room in my fitness room.”
She bit her lip with a sheepish smile. “Have you ever seen how big a potter’s wheel is? And I’d need an oven to fire my pottery.”