“Oh, I love pineapple!” Conleigh cheered.
“No, you don’t,” Linc countered. “You don’t like pineapple, just like you don’t like peppers.”
“Well, I like the smell of pineapples.” She paused. “I also like the way they’re so pretty. I have some sparkly flip-flops with them on it. You want to borrow them sometime, Landry?”
Landry’s eyes went sad for a few seconds. “I don’t have any more flip-flops. I only have the tennis shoes that I’m wearing. Did you know that my house burned down with all my stuff inside of it?”
I felt a pang in my chest.
We’d been so busy over the last few days that we hadn’t even had a chance to go check the house—or what remained of it.
That was on our plan for tomorrow, actually. Or had been.
Honestly, that was the last straw for Landry after the day she’d had, and instead of doing the whole adult thing, she decided to get drunk instead of facing her responsibilities.
But again, it’d all be there tomorrow. Today, she was allowed to unwind.
“Seems like you may need to get your husband to take you shopping,” Conleigh gasped. “Oh! I can take you shopping!”
Linc groaned at the same time I did.
My leg was feeling better, sure, but goddamn. There was no way I was up to walking for miles and miles on end while the damn woman decided to try on every single outfit that may or may not look good on her.
Honestly, that was the one thing about being married that I did not miss—going shopping.
Landry tried every single thing within a ten-mile radius that was her size. Whether she needed a formal dress or not, it was going on.
“I don’t want to go,” Linc whined.
“I’ll give you my credit card and you can shop online,” I offered hopefully.
Landry turned, a half-finished slice of pizza in her hand, and frowned. “Are you trying to tell me that you wouldn’t go with me so I can have some new clothes?”
I paused, unsure how to answer this.
“I don’t think I can go with you,” I told her, playing up my disability to get out of mall shopping. “I may be able to walk a little bit, but you know how constant standing hurts my leg. I could do maybe an hour, tops.”
Landry sniffed. “I don’t need you there. I have a car.”
She did.
And Debbie was in jail so…
“Okay,” I said. “But if you need me, you’ll call.”
Landry took another bite of her pizza. “I’ll call.”
“I’m going!” Conleigh twisted the top off another beer and handed it to Landry. “And we’re gonna have to go tomorrow. I need new underwear.”
Linc sighed.
“Why do you need more underwear, Conleigh?” Izzy laughed.
Before she could answer, Linc put his hand over his wife’s mouth. “Let’s not talk about this right now, okay?”
Chuckles sounded around the bar that they’d all gathered around to start eating, and I chose a piece of pizza that most certainly did not have pineapples on it.
After practically inhaling it, I groaned.
“God, that was good.” I sighed. “Did they deliver my salad?”
“I told them to take the salad off,” Landry said around a mouthful of crust. “Nobody wants a salad from there. Eat the pizza.”
“Landry,” I growled.
“Pizza’s not going to kill you.” Landry narrowed her eyes. “Unless you think I’m fat?”
Chuckles sounded again, and this time I was not one to join them.
“No,” I told her honestly. “I don’t think you’re fat.”
Where the fuck did that come from?
“Then you should have no problem eating pizza, because you’re in better shape than I am,” she countered. “Make me happy and eat some of those Cinnastix, too. Jesus, this pineapple is good.”
Rolling my eyes, I reached for another piece.
“Your convoluted explanation makes no sense,” I told her as I reached for another beer.
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “You’re eating the pizza, and that’s all that matters.”
If she said so.
***
Two hours later, it was just after midnight, and I smelled smoke.
Following the scent with a wary expression on my face, I came to a sudden halt when I got a load of what my wife was doing.
I looked up to see Landry holding a paper that was burning. Fire licked up the sides of it and climbed into the air, and ashes were falling to the ground by her feet.
I blinked and walked toward her, gently taking the burning paper from her hands and tossing it into the bathroom sink where it finished burning.
It was only after I studied the paper for a few long seconds that I saw what she was burning.
“Ummm,” I hesitated, looking over at her. “Why’d you burn our divorce decree?”
Her eyes were hazy as she blinked. “So, you can’t return me.”
That’s when I threw my head back and laughed, walking forward so that I could wrap my arms around her waist.
“Who says I’d ever return you?” I questioned.