Page 119 of Proposal Play

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Page 119 of Proposal Play

I’m not cursed at all. True, my other relationships didn’t last for more than six months. But the real six-month curse is that half a year was as long as I could be distracted from the actual love I’ve felt all along for Maeve.

I breathe out a long, relaxed breath, feeling like one big, huge question has been answered.

But in its place is a whole new one. How do I get my wife to fall hopelessly in love with me too? Ideally, before she moves out at the end of the season.

41

THE GREAT BANGING

Maeve

I don’t wait long to tell my friends. I can’t keep news like this from them. On Sunday morning when I’m alone and Asher is working out, I head to the terrace, savoring the view of the backyard. There, I fire off a text as I drink the chai latte he made me before he left.

Maeve: *taps mic* I have news.

Josie: *Sits up* *bats lashes*

Leighton: Don’t make us wait any longer.

Fable: I’ve already been waiting too long. Spill.

Everly: It really better be good.

Maeve: Oh it is. As in…we banged. We banged again. And again.

Leighton:I’m so shocked.

Everly: And they say text doesn’t have a tone, but I heard all the deadpan in that, Leighton.

Leighton: As you should.

Maeve: Hello! Did you forget about me? Does no one want to know how it was? ASK ME HOW IT WAS!

Josie: I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say TELL US NOW.

Maeve: Let’s just say I used to think vibrators were the gold standard. Safe to say my husband is.

Fable: Well, marriage-of-convenience has clearly been good to you. And I believe this calls for drinks and dish this week. I want to know everything.

Josie: Yes, like…WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?

Maeve: I’m going to be living with him for the next few months, and my “palace” is now vacant.

Josie: I meant, what does it mean in an existential sense, not necessarily a practical one, but good to know you’re becoming a landlord.

Leighton: *raises hand* I need a place to stay. My roommates just started hooking up and they’re LOUD.

Josie: Oh god. I have secondhand embarrassment. Or is that firsthand since I hooked up with my roommate?

Leighton: You started a trend. And now I’m suffering from it!

Maeve: Consider it done. My place is yours.

As I finish the latte, Leighton and I message separately about my sub-lease, where I tell her she’ll become a sub of a sub of a sub, or something like that.

Leighton: Sounds fun. And like the perfect place for a photographer trying to eke out a living.

Maeve: You can take pictures of pigeons fornicating on the windowsill. That’ll really add to your boudoir portfolio. But they might be as loud as your roomies.




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