Wife and Ex-Wife Ch. 03

She had been eyeing Patrick strangely all weekend, and he seemed to notice, although he said nothing about it. Now, enduring her fixed gaze again, he ventured:

"Something wrong, dear?"

That simple endearment was so heartwarming that she almost choked up. And it made her more determined to get her thoughts off her chest than before.

But before she spoke, she suddenly tore her gaze away and looked at her nearly empty plate. What she said was this:

"Maybe you should move in with me."

Patrick felt a ringing in his ears as he took in the words. A hot flush coursed through him.

"What did you say?" he said in an ominous undertone.

"You heard me," Nina said, now looking directly at him. "I think you should move in with me."

It took Patrick several seconds to digest the incredible statement and formulate a response that wouldn't cause their whole relationship to blow up in their faces. "Nina, we've known each other for exactly nine days—and we've seen each other for only five of those nine days. Isn't this a bit—premature?"

"I knew you'd say that," she said softly but still accusingly.

"Well, darling, what did you expect me to say?"

This time the endearment had no effect on Nina's increasingly agitated state. "You—you say you love me, but you don't want to live with me!"

"I didn't say that," Patrick said, himself getting angry and frustrated. "I just said we may be rushing into things. Loving someone and living with them are two very different things."

"Well, I think we get along pretty well." The comment was more a hope than a statement of fact.

"Maybe, but it's a big step. I really hate moving: leaving the house that my ex-wife and I shared was a real pain in the butt, and moving out of my apartment is going to be another big pain. I'm not sure I'm ready to do that right this minute."

"But there's plenty of room in this house! You said so yourself! You said it seemed silly for me to live here all by myself."

"That's not the issue. The issue is: what if we don't end up being able to live together harmoniously? Then what? I'd have to pack up all my stuff again and find some other place to live."

"Why do you think that would even happen?"

"It might! It's been known to happen, you know."

Nina eyed him keenly. She was breathing irregularly, her chest heaving. In a kind of frantic whisper she said: "Is that what happened between you and your ex? You loved her but couldn't live with her?"

The blood seemed to drain from Patrick's face, and Nina realized she had hit a bull's-eye. "It is, isn't it?" she said, covering his hand gently with her own.

Patrick almost leaped from the table and stalked into the living room. Nina, fearful that he would flee from the house entirely, clumsily got out of her own chair and followed him.

"Patrick," she cried, "don't avoid me! We have to talk about this!"

He wheeled on her, and when she came up to him he grabbed her shoulders with spastic hands. Nina was afraid he would shake her the way a cat shakes a rat it has captured.

"You're hurting me, dear," she said, tears welling in her eyes.

He let her go, then turned his back on her. His own shoulders were heaving, and he seemed to be peering at the front door. But he refused to speak.

After many moments of tense silence, Nina said, "Look, maybe this is premature. I'm sorry I mentioned it. Can we just carry on the way we were?"

He slowly turned around to face her. "Maybe we can do a little trial," he said in an almost inaudible voice. "I'll stay here for a week or two, and we'll see how we feel."

Nina's heart expanded, but she didn't want to get her hopes up too high. "Wh-when would we start?"

"Right now."

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Tentatively, almost as if touching him might electrocute her, she reached out to take him in her arms. "Thank you," she said.

He pulled her face away from where it had lodged in the crook of his neck, and kissed her lightly but deeply.

Then he was all business.

"You have to realize, Nina, that I have certain ways of doing things."

"I know that," she said meekly.

"I do like to work on my art during weekday evenings—in fact, I have to work on it. I have some deadlines to meet, and it's going to be touch and go unless I get my butt moving."

"Okay."

"Good—as long as that's understood. Well, then, maybe we should start moving some stuff now."

Patrick became such a dynamo of energy that Nina had difficulty keeping up. They found some empty boxes in Nina's unfinished basement and took both cars over to his place to start filling them up—mostly just with clothes and other essentials, but also with quite a bit of material from his "studio." Nina had the good sense to let him do that work: she wasn't going to come anywhere near it and risk getting her head chewed off for touching something she shouldn't. The whole process took only a few hours and about three trips—although, of course, a fair amount of stuff (including most of Patrick's furniture) remained in his apartment, as there was no immediate need to move it over to Nina's house.

They celebrated by going out to dinner at a modestly priced but very tasty Italian restaurant about a mile away from the house. After that, they watched a movie, made love (only one climax for each of them), then went to sleep.