“It’s more than that.” I look back toward the tent. “She’s my wife, right?”
He laughs as I walk away, across the street, and into the empty lot. I really need to set up something more permanent for her. I contacted an architect just the other day about building a body shop for her here but haven’t told her about it yet. Permits and all that shit will take a while, and construction won’t be simple either. I figure I’ll wait until they’re breaking ground.
I find her lost in work. I open my mouth to get her attention, but I can’t seem to form the words. Instead, I stand there in silence like a creep as she moves around her car, cursing slightly to herself as she looks through the tools. I can’t tell what she’s doing, but it’s got all her concentration.
And I don’t mind looking at her ass when she bends over the hood.
That fucking girl is beautiful. And I think she’s only gotten more attractive the longer I’ve known her. What started out as a dull, aching want has turned into a full-blown obsession. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t breathe without her flitting through my mind like moth wings against my cheek. Fuck, she hollowed me out and curled herself into my chest like I’m nothing but a corpse to keep her warm. And I’m happy to do it.
“God damn it.” She suddenly slams the hood of the car and glares at it. She kicks the bumper then hops around howling in pain, clutching at her foot, cursing even more.
I try not to laugh, but it’s one hell of a spectacle. She startles and looks over at me, grabbing a hammer and holding it up like she’s about to crack my skull open. “What the fuck is so funny?” she snaps, face twisted in pain and anger.
“Nothing at all. You’re intimidating and terrifying. All five-foot-four of you.”
“Damn right I am. But this stupid fucking car—” She makes to smash the hood with the hammer but stops herself. She strokes the bumper instead. “I’m just frustrated; I don’t mean it.”
“What’s the matter, anyway?”
“I just need yet another expensive part. I don’t have the funds for it, and I have no clue when it’s going to arrive, which means this whole project’s on hold until I figure out a way to get it.”
I raise my eyebrows. “That’s all?”
“That’s more than enough to piss me off.”
“There’s an easy solution, baby.” I take my wallet from my pocket and hold up a heavy, black credit card. “Here you go.”
I toss it at her. She stares in surprise and barely manages to catch it. “What’s this?”
“You know, the thing you swipe to make your problems disappear.”
“No, I know that, but this is yours.”
“Keep it. I have others.” I shove my wallet back into my pocket. “I’ve been meaning to give you one anyway.”
She stares at the card like it’s going to leap up and slit her throat. “I can’t take this.”
“Yes, you can. You’re my wife. You deserve some spending money.”
“But this isn’t justspending money; this is an open line of credit.”
“Same thing.”
“No, I can’t.” She shoves the card back at me, shaking her head.
Which is weird. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of someone refusing cash like this before. “Honestly, Fio, it’s not a big deal.”
“No,” she says sharply, throwing the card at me. Her eyes go wide when it hits me in the chest and bounces to the ground. “I’m sorry. That was an overreaction. It’s just, I can’t take that.”
I stoop down to pick it up. “It’s just a credit card.”
“I know. I know.” She shakes her head. “But I can’t, okay?”
“At least let me buy you the part.”
“Maybe. I don’t know. Can we talk about it later?”
I advance on her. “You’re acting fucking weird. It’s not like I’m trying to shove live snakes down your pants.”
