“I’m pretty sure you did this one.” She pointed to another item toward the bottom of the cocktail napkin.
“‘Go out as a mutton dressed like a lamb.’” I smiled. “I certainly did.”
I remembered being so self-conscious about the dress I chose for that first date with Lachlan. About not having the perfect body. About having curves, a few wrinkles, and boobs that were less than perky, at least in my mind.
But he didn’t care about any of that.
He made me feel desired.
Appreciated.
Loved.
Even before he said those three words to me.
“And this?” She pointed at the next napkin. “Did you finally accomplish this?”
I swallowed hard past the emotion building in my throat, swiping a lone tear from my eye. “Yes. It took longer than I thought…” I lifted my eyes to hers, “but I’ve finally forgiven myself. Or maybe I’ve finally realized I didn’t need to forgive myself.”
Naomi squeezed my hand, giving me a sincere smile. “I believe it’s the latter.”
She held my gaze for a protracted beat. Then we continued our walk down memory lane, both of us laughing and shedding a few tears as we revisited the list I made on the eve of my fortieth birthday, hoping it would be exactly what I needed to move on with my life.
“Here’s one,” she said with a conniving grin. “‘Buy a vibrator and use it.’”
I threw my head back and laughed. “And if I remember correctly, it couldn’t be just any vibrator. It was supposed to be the Mercedes-Benz, Maserati, Lamborghini, and Rolls Royce of vibrators combined into one.”
“Exactly. Ever get one?” She arched a brow, expecting me to say I had.
Instead, I shook my head.
Her jaw dropped. “You still don’t have a decent vibrator?”
“I haven’t found the need to get one. Lachlan is like a machine. And he never runs out of batteries. Pretty sure that man can give me an orgasm ten times more powerful than even the most badass of vibrators.”
“Oh, my god, Mom! Gross!”
I darted my gaze toward the foyer, eyes widening when they fell on Lachlan and Imogene standing there.
My daughter looked horrified to have overheard me talking about my boyfriend’s sexual prowess.
Lachlan, on the other hand, looked quite pleased with himself.
And he should have been.
Every word was true.
The man was a machine.
“I know you guys have sex, just… Can you please go five minutes without reminding me of the fact!” She spun on her heels, darting up the stairs and to her room, probably to FaceTime Roman, as she always did when she got home from school or soccer practice.
“I love you, Imogene!” I called after her.
“Love you, too. But I still don’t want to hear you talking vibrators and orgasms. Just… Ew!” Her door slammed.
We all erupted in laughter, the sound carrying through the living area.
“Talking about vibrators now?” Lachlan turned his eyes toward mine, slowly walking up to me and leaning in for a kiss.