Mickey interrupted me, “This market, I could make eight, nine hundred K off my house. That’s not a fifth of this place so I take over utilities so I feel I’m doin’ what I gotta do.”

“How about, when we get there,” I began carefully, “that we share things equitably? What you can do a percentage of what—?”

I stopped that time because his arms gave me a squeeze and his mouth added, “Don’t finish that, Amy.”

I said nothing further.

“Do what I gotta do,” he stated.

“Okay, Mickey,” I agreed but only because he was being so strange and it was scaring me.

“And not tough. Kids love this place. It’s nice. It’s big. You love it. And the tub doesn’t suck.”

That sounded more like Mickey so I again settled in and replied, “All that’s true.”

“Yeah,” he muttered.

I fell silent and in doing so, listened to Mickey fall asleep. No brush of the lips. No goodnight.

Nothing.

It took me longer but I fell asleep with him.

Mickey woke me with his mouth on mine, his hands pushing my nightie up my back and his lips saying, “Did a walkthrough. They’re all out.”

Then he kissed me.

Even half asleep, it was a kiss from Mickey so I kissed him back.

And thus commenced Mickey making love to me.

This was a surprise. We had not had any kind of intimacy that wasn’t shared through cell towers for weeks. I thought it would be intense and fast and astounding.

It wasn’t. It was slow and reverent and sweet.

We’d taken our time before. We’d enjoyed each other lengthily and thoroughly. I loved it when Mickey guided it to that, just as much as I loved it when we went at each other like teenagers.

But when he finally let me finish and then I took him there, he tangled us together, murmured “’Night, Amy,” and I again listened to my guy drift off to sleep.

I didn’t sleep myself.

Not a wink.

Because I’d been made love to like that before. Not as good, but Mickey was better with everything.

It had been the night before Conrad left me.

So no, I didn’t sleep.

Not a wink.

* * * * *

“Okay, what is your problem?”

I jerked out of my reverie at Alyssa’s question.

She, Josie and me were sitting together having lunch at Weatherby’s. It was two days after Christmas. Mickey and his kids were returning the next day. My kids had ended their rift with their father and went to him the afternoon of Christmas day (as was his turn) and with my blessing had been staying with him since.

So I had been suddenly and unusually alone.

Alone enough to finally come to terms with what was happening.