Hi.
George here.
Anne told you that I’d be along this week on account of my book being out — and her having to work on my cousin Nick’s. Seemed like a good idea to me.
She says she and Kate and Liz are doing a Here Come the Grooms! contest, which they do every February to celebrate their books — and us grooms.
Except . . . I’m not exactly a groom.
I was a groom — about four and a half years ago. That’s when I married Sophy. So you’d think that we’d be an old married couple by 
now.
You’d think . . .
But not long after Lily was born (Lily is our daughter) something happened. I didn’t even know what it was — one day I thought things were fine, and the next she was furious and crying and telling me she didn’t need me to do my duty and she was damned if she was going to allow herself to be considered my responsibility — and a whole lot of other emotional claptrap.
I was floored.
I tried to make her see sense. Sophy doesn’t do sense. Well, no, that’s not true. She’s usually the most sensible, amazing, wonderful woman in the world. But not that day.
Then — just like that — she was gone.
And I couldn’t go after her.
I know you’ll ask why. You’ll think I should have moved heaven and earth — and maybe I should have. Except there was a tiny bit (a damn tiny bit) of truth to what she said — about duty and responsibility and getting married for the wrong reasons. Yeah, she said that, too.
And I thought she probably had come to her senses, realized she’d done the wrong thing — married the wrong guy.
So . . . I let her go. Then.
But now — now I’m damned if I’m letting her out of my sight again. And yeah, so what if the only reason she came back is that I got hit by a truck?
If it got Sophy back here — even for a day — well, it was a price worth paying. Or it will be if I can convince her to give us another chance.
