12.22 The Abyss of WonderLand

 

“But, the funny part, Timothy, is that when I did get called into the boss’ office, he gave me a raise! I’m not really sure how much that is. He might have told me, and I was too much in shock to hear, mainly because I was being praised instead of fired, but I’m getting a raise! It’s the coolest thing ever. Now, maybe, I won’t need to find a roommate. Although, I should because I need to start saving for retirement.”

“Retirement?” Timothy said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, someday. We’re supposed to start early so that the interest will compound. All the financial advisements say that.”

“Very true. But before you worry about retiring, let’s celebrate your success.”

I think he meant by that to order champagne, but I was the one paying for this dinner, and I wasn’t about to add a fancy bottle of anything to the check.

“I’ll tell you what,” I said. “Let’s just touch our water glasses and smile at each other. That’s my kind of celebration.”

So we ate our enchiladas and refried beans and enjoyed the evening. And, as I said, when the check came, I paid the bill.

 

Timothy:

I swear this independent streak of hers is both adorable and irritating. I have never met anyone like her, which I guess is the reason why I’m madly in love. I firmly believe that wooing ought to be easier than this. I should be able to swoop her up in my arms and carry her off into the sunset (or her bed, since I’m now living in modern times.)

Andrew says this slowness is good for me, that it will teach me patience and to appreciate Penelope more (once I have finally won her heart.) How would that be possible? She has already become the center of my being. Every moment is spent on wondering how I can speed up this process. I can see that she is now more relaxed around me. Her fears have subsided, mostly.

But Andrew continually harps about how I have to tell her the truth. How can he say that after what happened to him? The truth is the reason his wife left him.

Which is why I’m afraid to tell Penelope. What if she ran from me? What if telling her the truth meant that I’d lose her forever?

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