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“I, uh, I like to take photos in my spare time. I’m working on a project at the moment.”
“What is it?”
Taylor is into photography? Color me fascinated. I’ve never seen him with a camera before. I plop down on the end of the bed and watch him take out a camera and set it up.
He messes with the settings and takes off the lens cap.
“Kind of like a self-portrait project. I take a picture of myself before bed. I’ve been doing it for years. I’ve got a damn folder on my computer. I want to make one of those progression videos over time, one for each year, and then a large one that shows off my life.”
“That’s—”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Since when have you cared about holding your tongue around me, Angel?” Jesse asks, straightening.
“It seems a little sad,” I say. “You sitting on your bed, alone, taking a picture of yourself.”
“Yeah,” he says. “That’s what I want the cat for. You want to be in it? You don’t have to be.”
I hesitate.
“I’ll be in it. I’m your fake wife, and that’s part of your life, right? So, you can document me.”
Jesse gives me such a genuinely bright smile, I can’t help but smile back.
No, no, no.
But the denial is muted. Jesse and I might fight like cats and dogs, but I’m starting to see a side of him that’s kind. That’s not bravado and mockery.
“Timer for ten seconds.”
He clicks a button and hurries over, then sits down beside me.
We sit stiffly, side-by-side, staring at the camera.
The shutter clicks.
“Great,” Jesse says. “Another night.”
“Can I see it?”
Jesse grabs the camera and holds it, then shows me the exceptionally awkward photo of us. He gets up and packs the camera and tripod away. I like how purposeful he is about it. Iimagined Taylor would be messy, chaotic, but his house is neat, and he likes things in their place. We’re similar in that regard. Which is weird.
“Bed time?” I ask.
“Bed time.”
Oh God. Oh God, help me. How am I going to make it through this night next to him?
I get under the covers fast, drawing them up to my chin.
Jesse laughs and gets into bed beside me. He switches off the lamp on his bedside table.
“Goodnight,” he says.
“Goodnight.”
