“I’m better now.”

“That’s good.” He sounded distracted. “They’re waiting for me.”

“Okay,” I said. “Do you want me to call later?”

“Later?” Now he sounded perplexed, as if he didn’t understand the concept of later.

“Later, tonight, when you’re home.”

“I’m working late.”

“Yes, but your late is my afternoon.”

I heard his sigh then he said, “If you want.”

If I want?

I felt anger again, surprisingly anger at Niles. I never got angry at Niles. He never did anything to get angry at mostly because he never did anything.

“Niles, I’m half a world away.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m half a world away!” I said louder.

“I don’t understand.”

And he didn’t. Because he wasn’t the type of man who cared if is fiancée needed a timeout and took it half a world away.

And I wondered what he’d think if I told him I was staying in the beautiful home with breathtaking views with a amazing looking man who’d seen me na**d (mostly), made me breakfast, teased me, flirted with me and who I’d kind of slept with.

“Are you there?” he asked me.

“I’m here.”

“I need to go.”

“Of course.”

“Call me later, if you like.”

“Right.”

“Are you okay?”

No, I was not.

I didn’t tell him this, instead I said, “Tired.”

“Rest, that’s what you’re there to do.”

No it wasn’t. I was there to take a timeout.

“Right,” I said again.

“Talk to you later.”

“Right.”

“Good-bye.”

“Bye.”

Then he disconnected.

I stared at my phone, hit the button to turn it off and set it on Max’s nightstand. Then I flopped back on the bed. Then I bit my lip so I wouldn’t cry.

Charlie had never met Niles and I wished he had. Charlie had always been sharp, good at reading people. Charlie would have given it to me gently but he would have given it to me straight.

Problem was, I didn’t think I needed Charlie to give it to me straight.

I lifted my left hand to my face and with my right hand I touched my ring.

I’d been thrilled when Niles asked me to marry him because I’d been in love with him. He was steady, he was quiet, he was predictable and he loved me in his Niles way.

He’d never cheat on me which had happened to me, back in the day when shit happened to me. He’d never be mean to me, say mean stuff to me, not on purpose just to hurt me and not when he was drunk which also had happened to me, back before I played it safe and shit happened to me. And he’d never lay a hand on me in anger which, unfortunately, also happened to me.

So he wasn’t affectionate. So he didn’t hold my hand, hug me, cuddle me, hold me when we slept. So he didn’t call me “honey” or “baby” or give me a nickname like “Duchess”.

He was solid, he had a good job, he worked hard. He didn’t play hard, just worked hard. He didn’t have a lot of friends. He didn’t like to go out much. What he liked to do was sit on the couch watching TV with me at his side. Or DVDs. He was content with that. In his Niles way, he loved that, just him and me, watching TV.

And I was content… ish. It wasn’t exciting but it was nice… ish. It meant I’d never get hurt again. Truly, there was something to be said for steady, quiet and predictable.

But was that enough for me for the rest of my life?

You know the answer to that, Neenee Bean, I heard Charlie say in my head and I jumped, lurching up, and looked around, seeing no one.

I’d heard Charlie talking to me on occasion but it was remembering things he’d said or knowing what he would say. He’d never talked to me talked to me.

“Maybe this timeout wasn’t a good thing,” I whispered to the room. “Maybe it was a bad thing.”

Charlie didn’t answer, no one did.

And I decided, since I was hearing voices, that maybe a nap was a good thing.

* * * * *

“Nina.”

My eyes opened and I saw Max’s face close to mine. I also felt his fingers digging into my hip. I was on my side in his bed and he was sitting in the crook of my lap.

“Jesus, you sleep like the dead,” he muttered, pulling back only his head, his hand stayed where it was.

I saw the TV was blue screen and the sun was fading. It was getting dark which meant it was getting late.

I rolled my head slightly on the pillow to look up at him, still not quite awake and asked, “What?”

“I thought it was because you were sick but you sleep like the dead,” Max informed me then he lifted his hand not at my hip and he took a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie.

My eyes narrowed on the cookie. “Are those my cookies?”

He chewed, swallowed then said, “Yeah,” then shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth.

I got up on an elbow and said, “But those are mine.”

“Honey, they’re in my house, they’re fair game.”

“I see this sharing the house business isn’t going to work,” I told him and he grinned.

“They’re f**kin’ good cookies, babe, but there’re about three dozen of them. You gonna eat them all?”

“Yes,” I bit out.

“Well, you’ll have to eat them all but four,” he told me.

“You had four?”

“Yeah,” he replied, ignoring my tone and possibly the lethal look on my face before he went on. “I’m hungry. Let’s go to dinner.”

“Dinner?”

His hand suddenly moved from my hip to my shoulder, his finger traced skin there and I felt that my shirt had fallen down. I yanked it up, sat up and scooted up to the headboard.

His hand dropped to the bed at the other side of my thighs so he was leaning across me and he said, “Yeah, dinner, I’m takin’ you to town for a burger.”

“You’re taking me to town for a burger?”

He tipped his head to the side and asked, “You gonna repeat everything I say?”

“No.”

“Good,” he said, pushed up off the bed, grabbed my hand before I could evade his clutch and yanked me to my feet in a way I could neither ignore nor fight. “Get yourself sorted out. We’ll leave as soon as you’re ready.”