Page 35 of Beautiful Life
And I want Tony. So badly it hurts.
When I was younger I wanted him in a dreamy girly way only young girls can seem to dream up. Unrealistic happy dreams of a life made up of puppies, daisies, and milkshakes, all tied up in a baby blue, polka dot bow with a hot guy. But Tony went away to college, then law school, and I eventually grew up, realizing reality was not made up of girly dreams. Then I made the worst decision of my life, tying myself to Preston who showed me reality was the exact opposite of puppies, daises, and milkshakes.
Now, with Tony forcing himself in my life, I know down deep I want him in a way I shouldn’t because I don’t know if I can give him what he needs and deserves. Not to mention, the thought of being married again, a wife again, freaks me out. And that’s exactly what Tony deserves.
Another new round of drinks arrives to pull their attention away from the sing-along. My head is spinning from practically downing my last one, so somewhere I find the wherewithal to sip this martini. This is when my phone dings and I look down to see I have a text from Tony.
My head is brimming from being with his family all weekend—his sisters, cousins, aunts, not to mention his mother. Being with Tony in this … this … whatever this is we have together, I’ve gotten a glimpse of what a real and healthy relationship could feel like. Knowing what Tony wants from me, where he wants us to go, my head’s not only spinning with Prickly Pear Martini’s, but with all things Tony.
And suddenly I have so much to say.
Tony – You still up?
I mean, really. He’s very thoughtful.
Me – Yep.
Hmm … I thought I had a lot to say.
Tony – What are you doing?
Me – Drinking.
Me – And stuff.
Tony – What stuff?
Shit.
Tony – Hello?
Me – Just girl stuff.
Tony – Can I call you?
See? So thoughtful.
Me – Give me dive.
Me – Fibe.
Me – Shit! 5!
Tony – Okay sweetheart, I’ll give you five. Maybe even sex. I mean, 6 ;-)
“Holy shit,” I mutter under my breath, but can’t help but think he’s funny because he gave me a winky face. He’s usually very intense, I didn’t think he had it in him to text a winky face.
Gabby breaks into my winky face contemplations. “Holy shit, what?”
“What? Oh, nothing. I’m tired, I think I’ll go to the room. Don’t worry about me, you have fun.”
I stand and try to keep from swaying.
She notices my phone as it dings again and grins back up at me. “Can you get there okay? You want me to walk you?”
“I’m good. Come in as late as you want. You won’t bother me.”
“Girlie, tomorrow morning is gonna come early. I’ve never flown hung over, it’s gonna suck.”
