*written awhile ago... didn't finish the story and it's more sequel/ book 2 material anyway
He bought tickets for an Indiana basketball game to celebrate my early March birthday - anyone who knows me knows that taking me to an IU game is pretty much locking it down. The game was the perfect scenario - a home game in Bloomington, against Ohio State, and ON my actual birthday.
I worked out child care for Stella. My parents were heading to Btown on Saturday the 1st to visit my grandma. Mr. Wonderful could drive us up there Saturday, too. We'd visit with the family and then mom and dad would drive Stella back to Louisville with them. Mr. W and I could get a hotel, and spend the night in Btown. I'd wake up to him on my birthday, and then we'd hit the game that afternoon.
The night before, he was out for karaoke with his roommate, and seemed to have had more drinks than usual based on the random photos and facebook messages they kept sending. This fun turned into a few "You don't want me, cuz. I'm too messed up" messages of the self-deprecating sort.
You were messed up. You have a past. So do I, dear. It's okay.
Mr. W was amenable to the plan, though, when I arrived at his house with Stella the next afternoon, overnight bags in tow, he threw a few items in a laundry basket and declared he always traveled that way and was ready to hit the road. Something struck me about that lack of preparation that was akin to lack of interest, but I let it slide. It was MY BIRTHDAY WEEKEND!
*****
In Btown Mr. W was sullen after a Louisville basketball loss, which he half listened to on the road radio and half watched on the tiny box in our hotel room after we checked in. But he was pleasant with the family and my grandma, and after everyone left us that night we drove around Indiana's campus and hit up a college bar, but a classy one with sophistication and charm, We were both quiet, tired and ready to hang back at the hotel. We got in the whirlpool bath and I tried to get some peace of mind about the texted conversation from the night before.
Mr. W had been at the Pentagon after 9/11 - just for a few days, but still - he said it messed with his head. I'm not saying it didn't.
The night wasn't particularly romantic -most of our nights up to that one HAD been... and the next morning I kind of had to be insistent that the birthday gift I wanted the most was, cough, something I wanted before I got out of bed for breakfast.
He bought tickets for an Indiana basketball game to celebrate my early March birthday - anyone who knows me knows that taking me to an IU game is pretty much locking it down. The game was the perfect scenario - a home game in Bloomington, against Ohio State, and ON my actual birthday.
I worked out child care for Stella. My parents were heading to Btown on Saturday the 1st to visit my grandma. Mr. Wonderful could drive us up there Saturday, too. We'd visit with the family and then mom and dad would drive Stella back to Louisville with them. Mr. W and I could get a hotel, and spend the night in Btown. I'd wake up to him on my birthday, and then we'd hit the game that afternoon.
The night before, he was out for karaoke with his roommate, and seemed to have had more drinks than usual based on the random photos and facebook messages they kept sending. This fun turned into a few "You don't want me, cuz. I'm too messed up" messages of the self-deprecating sort.
You were messed up. You have a past. So do I, dear. It's okay.
Mr. W was amenable to the plan, though, when I arrived at his house with Stella the next afternoon, overnight bags in tow, he threw a few items in a laundry basket and declared he always traveled that way and was ready to hit the road. Something struck me about that lack of preparation that was akin to lack of interest, but I let it slide. It was MY BIRTHDAY WEEKEND!
*****
In Btown Mr. W was sullen after a Louisville basketball loss, which he half listened to on the road radio and half watched on the tiny box in our hotel room after we checked in. But he was pleasant with the family and my grandma, and after everyone left us that night we drove around Indiana's campus and hit up a college bar, but a classy one with sophistication and charm, We were both quiet, tired and ready to hang back at the hotel. We got in the whirlpool bath and I tried to get some peace of mind about the texted conversation from the night before.
Mr. W had been at the Pentagon after 9/11 - just for a few days, but still - he said it messed with his head. I'm not saying it didn't.
The night wasn't particularly romantic -most of our nights up to that one HAD been... and the next morning I kind of had to be insistent that the birthday gift I wanted the most was, cough, something I wanted before I got out of bed for breakfast.
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