Myla picks up her wineglass and looks at me mischievously. “While you were in Atlanta a few years back, it was . . . God, you had that big toe injury that you kept bitching about.”

I chuckle. “It hurt!”

“Oh my God, it was your big toe. Get over it.” She takes a sip of her wine. “Anyway, I couldn’t take your moaning anymore, so when you went to Atlanta for the start of your away trip, Nichole and I went to Hawaii.”

I shake my head, unable to believe it. “But I spoke to you. We did FaceTime, and I saw our bedroom.”

“Nichole brought a green screen.”

“No, she didn’t.” I lean back in my chair in disbelief.

Myla nods. “Yup. We thought we were being so sneaky. We did a green screen and made sure to practice before you called. Oh yeah, we really pulled the wool over your eyes.”

I tap my fingers on the table and say, “You realize if you told me you went to Hawaii, I wouldn’t have cared. I would have encouraged it.”

“Yes, but this was out of spite because of all your toe complaining. Plus, it was fun to see if we could get away with it. You know how we love the adventure.”

“Yeah, I do.” I lightly chuckle. “Was that the only time you did that?”

“Yes. Because it was the only time you pushed me over the edge with the complaining about your big toe.”

“Babe, that shit hurts. It’s a legitimate injury.”

She smiles and lifts her wineglass up. “Okay. So would you compare your pain to something like . . . I don’t know, menstrual cramps?”

“Oh no, you don’t.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to fall for that. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is as bad as menstrual cramps.”

“You’re only saying that because when we did the simulator, you clocked out at level six.”

I lean forward and whisper, “Babe, I thought my balls were about to explode.”

She tilts her head back and lets out a roar of a laugh. Clutching her chest, she says, “The image of you ripping the pads off your genitals will live rent-free in my mind forever.”

“Fantastic.” I chuckle. “Any other memories that live rent-free in your head?”

She twists the stem of her wineglass on the table as she stares at me. The sunset behind her is casting a picturesque glow around her, so I pull my phone out of my pocket and say, “Smile.” I need to capture this moment. She’s so goddamned beautiful.

She offers me one of her closed-mouth smiles that just barely tilts up the corners of her mouth.

I snap the picture and then sigh as I look at it. “Sorry, but the way the light is hitting you from behind, and the sunset . . . you’re stunning, Myla.” I show her the picture, and she just smirks.

“Rent-free memories? Well, obviously, when we first met, the look of confusion on your face is one of my favorite moments. The rooftop, where we were intimate for the first time.” She wets her lips and stares down at her wine. “The day you went with me to the reading of my dad’s will after he passed away, the way you told my mother off. Probably will never forget that.”