Page 41 of My Husband Problem

Endometriosis and pelvic pain suck bad enough. Having a back injury and so much inflammation around my spinal cord and nerves that I had nerve impairment for months as well, also really sucked. Missing out on my one and only chance at the Olympics and having to pivot and rewrite my entire life plan definitely sucked.

And I am actually appalled to be sitting on a park bench thinking about how not being able to have sex with the guy I never intended to marry and still have a hard time believing I am legally bound to sucks even more than those things sometimes.

Sex is not that big of a deal. I’ve only had three sexual partners in my life anyway. I enjoyed it, for the most part. At the time, my pelvic pain was somewhat cyclical, and I could control it with medication and lots of foreplay and really being in the mood.

But the first time I tried it after my injury and surgery, it was fucking traumatic.

Brandon was sweet about it. Though he’s probably still traumatized as well. He was also probably traumatized by the NDA I asked him to sign afterward.

The last thing I wanted was someone spilling a secret like that about me. After I became semi-famous from my viral social media posts, my inspirational speaking, and my regular writing and live videos, people became much more interested in all aspects of my life, including my personal relationships. A juicy story about me freaking out, sobbing, and throwing him out of my apartment would have probably been very interesting to several online gossip sites.

I get up from the bench, take a deep breath, and head for City Hall, hoping Nora and Sutton are in the Parks and Recreation office.

I need their help.

But what I need might just kill Nora.

Making someonenotlike Rebel will be the hardest thing she’s ever done.

CHAPTER 10

DECLAN

I’ve been sittingin Astrid’s kitchen for two hours and have given away a hundred thousand dollars.

And we’re not done.

Wilson explained that people would be coming to meet with us all morning to pitch things they need money for, and he and I would decide which things to fund.

I’ve said yes to everything.

These are people who are asking for money for things like repairing the town’s baseball diamond, installing a new HVAC system at the daycare center, and now a woman sitting across from me needs to remodel part of her house to accommodate her husband’s wheelchair after his recent stroke.

Why would I say no to any of that?

“I’m going to give you twenty-five thousand,” I tell Michelle.

She sucks in a sharp breath.

“That way you can get all the renovations done at once,” I say. “Wouldn’t that be a lot easier?”

I see tears welling up in her eyes. “It would,” she says, her voice thick. “But that’s just so much.”

I feel a twinge in my chest. Twenty-five thousand dollars is a lot of money to this woman. I understand that it’s a lot of moneyto a lot of people. I am incredibly fortunate that it is not a lot of money to me.

I shake my head. “I’m not focused on the amount here,” I tell her. “Only what we’re going to do with it.”

A tear slips down her cheek. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course.”

I open the checkbook again and start writing my sixth check in the morning, but my pen scrapes across the check as I’m forming a zero because Michelle has come around the table and thrown her arms around my neck.

I should’ve been expecting that. This is also the sixth hug of the morning from a stranger.

The woman is smaller and less strong than the burly fisherman I said goodbye to fifteen minutes ago. He nearly cracked one of my vertebrae with the squeeze he gave me as thanks for the ten thousand dollars he needed for a boat repair.

Is that a community project or something he uses to do charity? No. But does a guy who runs into burning buildings for a living deserve to go out fishing in a nice boat on his days off? Absolutely.