Page 54 of Top Shelf

Heidi opens her box and pulls out a pink lamp trimmed with diamantés. I stare at it, and she catches me. “What?”

“It has sparkles.”

“Mhmm.” She hugs it against her chest. “This is the Pink Lady.”

I consider the lamp, and the fact that this is one of the few personal objects she chose to bring into our temporary marital home. “It is… very pink.”

“She’s magnificent.”

“It is something.”

“That’s marriage, baby.” She stands, shimmying the Pink Lady in front of her. “Compromise.”

I’m still looking at the lamp when she moves toward the hallway.

“Which bedroom is mine?”

I follow her through to the first door, which opens into the primary bedroom, complete with a king-size bed, walk-in wardrobe, and ensuite. Heidi peers inside quickly with a nod, then continues to the next door. She opens it, and we both stare.

At a washing machine.

Neither of us moves until Heidi closes the door, then opens it again as if the action will make a second bedroom magically appear. She turns to me with a calm smile, which I do not think is very calm at all.

“Viktor… did you rent a one-bedroom apartment?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I rented two bedrooms.”

She hums, then swings the laundry door open again. “There appears to be a compelling argument against that claim.”

With a sigh, I take out my phone, and the rental company confirms the mistake nine minutes later. The online listing was attached to the wrong apartment, and there are no comparable two-bedrooms available in the building. The earliest transfer would be in three weeks, possibly four.

Heidi listens from the living room, sitting on the arm of the sofa and chewing the inside of her cheek.

“I will take the couch,” I say after I hang up.

Her eyes snap to me. “No way.”

“It is fine.”

“You are six-four.”

“Six-three and three quarters.”

“Congratulations, that quarter inch really changes the fact that this,” she pats the side of the sofa, “is only five feet long. You can’t sleep folded on that thing and then go play professional hockey.”

“It’s okay, Heidi. I have slept in worse places.”

She shakes her head. “As your wife and a licensed physical therapist, I’m vetoing this.”

There’s that word again. Wife. She says it so casually, but it still finds the same inconvenient place in my chest as before.

“I’m away for games a lot anyway,” I add.

“And when you’re here?”

I glance toward the bedroom, and she follows my gaze.

“Viktor.” Heidi blows out a breath. “There’s a king-size bed, and we’re both adults. I’m sure we can share it without making it weird.” My eyes drag over her face, and she narrows her eyes. “You’re making it weird.”