Still half asleep, I winced against the light. It was morning—barely—late enough for a hint of brightening sky to start seeping along the edge of the shades, but way, way too early to get up.

I threw the blanket over my head, buried my face in the pillow, and squeezed my eyes tight. The streets outside were relatively quiet and Will slept silently beside me, but I could practically hear my headache.

Giving up, I rolled over, fingers searching along the sheets for Will and warm skin and—

Oof. That might have been a mistake. I counted to ten, breathing in through my nose while I waited for the room to stop spinning. My stomach was definitely not on board with the change in position.

I groaned, squeezing my eyes closed as I managed to sit up. My mouth felt like cotton and I was probably two seconds from losing everything I drank last night, but this... okay... vertical was definitely the better choice.

Will mumbled something and rolled onto his side, and I looked back at him over my shoulder. He was breathing softly, pillow clutched in his arms, sleeping quietly again. His wedding band glinted against the tan of his skin and I reached out, brushing a finger across the cool metal. A week—he’d been wearing that ring for a week, and I was pretty sure I could handle a million more just like this one.

Pushing off the bed, I shuffled to the bathroom.

I used the toilet and washed my hands, brushed my teeth—thank God—and drank at least a gallon of water straight from the tap. I never wanted to see tequila again.

Feeling marginally better, I walked back into the room and looked around, my eyes following the trail of discarded clothing that led from the doorway to the bed. Last night had been crazy... I thought. I remembered alcohol—lots of alcohol—our friends, some vague recollection of Will kissing George and my being totally turned on by it?—I would definitely need to get the scoop on that from sober Sara—and Will’s suggestion that I take a teaching job.

And like that, my head cleared. I felt my skin start to prickle as I remembered his comments about me living my life in the lab, as if he was so sure that’s what would happen. Why was it okay for him to work long hours? To give his career everything he could? Will had always been supportive and proud of all that I’d accomplished... Where had this complaint come from? We got married, yes, but I never signed on to be Susie Homemaker or change who I was. I’d sacrificed my entire life for my career, and I was damn proud of the balance I’d managed to find since meeting and falling in love with and marrying him. Did he have so little faith in my ability to handle both?