My Ex-Husband's New Wife Asked Me to Take Him Back novel · Chapter 10 of 24

Chapter 10: Saturday

He came to the front door of the store at seven exactly, and he knocked, though the sign said Open until nine.

I had changed my shirt three times.

I opened the door in a dark green sweater and the silver hoops, with my hair tucked behind my ears.

Gabe stood on the step in a wool coat with sleet in his hair.

He had a paper bag in one hand.

"Daffodil bulbs," he said. "Forced ones. I thought of flowers, and then I thought of the Anchor's lamp on the table, and a bunch of flowers would knock it over."

I took the bag.

Inside were six bulbs in a clay pot, green shoots already an inch high.

"They'll bloom by Christmas," he said. "You can take them to Chicago, or you can plant them behind the store."

"That's very good, Gabe."

"I practiced."

"I can tell."

The Anchor was packed, and every booth turned its head.

We ate meatloaf and pie under the stares of half the town, and I found I did not mind.

He told me what he wanted, as I had written.

He said it plainly, between bites.

"I want to sit across from you for as long as you'll sit there. I want to hear about Chicago. I want to know what you eat for breakfast now."

"Toast."

"I want to know if you still hate cilantro."

"I hate it more."

"Good," he said. "I was afraid you'd changed."

By nine the sleet had turned to wet snow.

He walked me to the end of the pier, with my hand in his coat pocket, in his hand.

The lighthouse turned its slow white arm over the lake.

Waves hit the pilings below us with a sound.

At the rail, he stopped.

"I want to kiss you," he said.

"I know."

"I'm saying it out loud."

"I heard." My voice shook. "Say it again."

"I want to kiss you, Sue. I've wanted to for five years."

I took his coat lapels in both fists and pulled him down.

He tasted like coffee and cold air.

His mouth was exactly as I remembered, and nothing like it.

It was slower and certain, the mouth of a man who had spent five years learning what to do with it.

I made a sound against his lips.

He answered it with his whole body.

One hand slid up into my hair, the other flat against my back, pulling me into the length of him.

Snow fell on my face and melted.

I did not feel it.

"Come upstairs," I said when I could.

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