Paper Bride ✔️ (Book 4 - DP Series - COMPLETE)

44. I Promise

I just have to get a couple of things prepared first.

"Hey, Seth?" I ask, resting my hip against the counter as I watch him soap up the dish sponge and begin scrubbing at a plate.

"Yeah," is his simple response, but his eyes don't leave his task.

"Would you be okay cleaning up on your own?" This has his head tilting in my direction, curiosity making creases in his brow. "I've got something I need to do. It'll be quick, and I promise it'll be worth it for you, too."

He stares at me, thinking for several seconds before his forehead smooths out. He's no longer smiling, but I can tell he's not irritated by the fact that I'm leaving all the clean-up duty for him. Actually, he's probably grateful that I'm letting him do it on his own. I usually just end up frustrating him with my laziness because for some reason I just can't spot the messes. It's like my eyes slide right over that crumb on the tabletop, or avoid the hard-to-remove junk that's always stuck to the difficult pans. I don't do it on purpose; I swear. I'm just blind to untidiness and he's well aware of this.

"Sure," he finally answers with a solid nod of his head, and then returns to scrubbing at a particularly stubborn stain.

I turn and successfully stub my toes on the edge of the trash can beside me. I let out an audible gasp of pain as needles shoot through my already injured foot.

"You alright?" Seth asks, turning slightly to glance down at my throbbing limb and then lifts his eyes to my scrunched-up face.

I just wave him off as I shake my head slightly.

"Fine, fine," I groan, pulling myself back up into standing and leaving the kitchen.

I can hear Seth chuckle softly behind me as I ungracefully shuffle my way across the living room. Dang, I'm already so sick of this sprained ankle. I just want to be able to walk like a normal human being again. The problem is that I'm hoping to make this evening romantic, but Ms. Gimpy Leg here is ruining all my plans. I won't be able to approach Seth with the seductive grace of a lioness. Instead, I get the boastful grace of a penguin. I'm sure someone in the world has a fetish for the penguin walk, but I doubt that person is Seth.

I find myself in the guest room a few minutes later, wobbling around bags of junk and searching high and low for a particular box. When my eyes snag it stuffed into the deepest, darkest crevices of the closet, I groan aloud.

"Of course," I grumble under my breath as I begin the horrid task of dragging box after box out of the tight space.

I'm not much of a sweater, but I'm definitely sweating by the time I'm done. Why am I doing this again?... Oh yeah. To win back my husband... and to make my big announcement in a way that will make him swoon at my feet.

With the box tucked under my arm, I shout a hasty 'goodbye' to Seth before exiting the home and jumping into my car. I've got a couple of stops to make first, and I spend the next two hours getting everything set up. This'll be great. Totally great.

Pulling back into the driveway, I make my way inside as quickly as possible. I don't see Seth anywhere in sight, but I don't think about it too much. I'm on a mission, and I need to at least smell decent for it.

Grabbing my towel off the peg behind our bedroom door, I hurry to the bathroom for a shower. I dump berry-scented shampoo onto my hair and scrub strawberry body wash over every inch of skin. Once I successfully smell like a box of Fruit Loops, I exit the bathroom to get dressed.

My swimsuit is suffocating me beneath my raggedy jean shorts and tank top, but I ignore the sensation because I know it's only temporary. With quiet steps, I leave the bedroom, my eyes scanning the house as I emerge into the living room.