"Have you ever been skiing?" Roman asks Gerri one night. They're curled up in bed, her tapping away on her iPad while he holds her from behind. He's usually the little spoon, except when she's working.
"Yes, with Baird, before the girls," she replies absently.
"Right. 'Baird'." He makes the name sound like an infectious disease. "Always a tough act to follow."
"We were married for twenty years. We had a whole life together."
"Right. You just couldn't get enough of old Baird. I get it."
"You don't have to be jealous of Baird, Rome," she says, reaching around to cup his face, still not taking her eyes off her work. "It's not a competition. I've got enough love to go around."
"Still…" He shifts closer against her back. "If he were still alive, you wouldn't be with me."
"You don't know that." She finally looks over her shoulder. "We might have had a torrid affair behind Baird's back. Or we could have had a ménage à trois."
"Yeah. Hot." He nods.
"Roman, there is no what might have been. There's just you and me, now, making the best of everything."
"Uh huh. Don't think I didn't notice that you said the L word, by the way."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
He chuckles triumphantly against her shoulder.