Happily Ever Ninja(104)

“I never liked David,” he said solemnly. “He was a wanker.”

“I didn’t either,” Kat blurted, frowning, drawing our collective attention to her. “I’m sorry I never said anything.”

Marie issued Kat and Greg a small smile of wonder, her curiosity piqued. “Why didn’t you like him?”

“He thought his food was delicious.” Greg paired this odd declaration with a flick of his wrist, as though David, a chef, finding his own food delicious was unforgivable.

“His food was delicious.” Marie’s statement was the truth.

“Yes, but he was always talking about it, about how he cooked the most delicious eye of newt, or some such doldrums. And he was obsessed with cuts of meat.”

“That’s true.” Elizabeth pointed at Greg. “Remember that one time he yelled at me for mixing up a prime rib with a fillet?”

“Yes.” Greg snapped once and nodded vigorously. “You’d just worked a really long shift—”

“Thirty-six hours,” Elizabeth supplied.

“And you didn’t even know your own name. And then he left the table because you said the fillet smelled really good.”

“I remember that.” Kat was also nodding vigorously.

Sandra lifted her drink to the room and added, “Also, balls.”

“Balls are no joke,” Nico agreed, not looking up from his crochet.

Marie shook her head but was clearly trying not to laugh. “Not this again.”

“I suppose what I’m saying—dearest, lawyerest, blondest Marie—is that any man who speaks about the deliciousness of his own cooking, but has no taste for your lady closet, is completely undeserving of you. One must work diligently to be deserving, placing one’s partner above oneself, especially one’s fears and ambitions. As such, David is undeserving.” Greg’s words were met with head nods of agreement from both Nicoletta and the ladies gathered.

Meanwhile, I studied my husband openly. His statement might have been seen as a show of support by our friends, but to me it sounded like a realization, a crystallization of finally appreciating my perspective. Hope and wonder blossomed in my chest, a warm spreading consciousness, both lifting my heart and soothing some of my anxieties.

“I know that. I just wish I could get over it. It’s been a year and I’m still . . .” Marie sipped her drink and sighed again, her tone more resolute as she found her desired train of thought. “It’s not David. I don’t miss him. I miss having a person. I miss having someone to laugh with, someone to talk to, someone to care for. I miss having a man’s body close by, the strength of it. I miss the sound of a male voice in the morning. And I miss kissing.”

“Kissing is nice.” Now Kat was staring unseeingly forward and sounded like she was in a trance.

I smirked at Kat’s dreamy-sounding statement, because I was fairly certain she was thinking of one man’s kisses in particular.

Marie ignored Kat and continued, “I want what you and Fiona have. I look at the two of you and, honestly, it gives me hope. I want someone I can rely on, but who knows me well enough to give me space when I need it, forgiveness when I ask for it. I want unconditional love and support. I want someone who fits me, is the yin to my yang.” Marie met Greg’s gaze head on, her voice steady and sure. “I want enduring love. And, if people are honest with themselves, I think that’s what everyone wants.”

Greg and I traded smiles; I both felt and saw the warmth behind his gaze, the adoration, desire, and promise.

Still looking at me, a grin still whispering over his lips, he said, “Being the yin to someone’s yang takes work.”

“Relationships are the ultimate work in progress,” I agreed. “Think of being in a committed relationship like knitting a scarf that never ends, with lots of mistakes and dropped stitches.”

“That sounds frustrating and expensive,” Kat chuckled, but I could tell she was trying to infuse some humor into the discussion. “Think about all that yarn you’d have to buy.”

Greg picked up on Kat’s attempt and ran with it. “That’s right. If the good ones are like unicorns, just think about how expensive his upkeep would be. What does one feed a unicorn?”

“Fillet, not prime rib,” Elizabeth suggested, making her husband laugh.

“A steady diet of lady closet,” Sandra recommended with a twinkle in her eye.

“Rhinoceroses are probably the closest non-mythical animal to a unicorn, and—contrary to popular belief—they’re vegetarians. Black rhinos get most of their sustenance from eating trees and bushes. But white rhinos graze on grasses, walking with their enormous heads lowered to the ground,” Janie said, obviously the only one who was giving the matter of feeding unicorns any serious thought.