‘I just don’t know,’ I said, biting my lip.
‘Come onnnn,’ my husband poked me in the arm, stupid grin splayed across his face. ‘You know you want to.’
‘I honestly don’t know that I do,’ I frowned at him. I decided to try and see it from his perspective, pacing the length of the bathroom.
‘I don’t think so,’ I eventually shook my head. ‘Sorry, I know you were excited.’
‘It’s not that expensive,’ he pleaded, dropping to his knees. ‘I’ll stop drinking!’
‘No you won’t,’ I rolled my eyes.
‘Probably not, no.’
‘And the money isn’t the problem anyway,’ I went on. ‘I don’t want a hole in the side of my bath.’
‘It’s not a hole,’ he insisted. ‘It’s a tasteful bathtub conversion. Sydney is full of people who are doing it.’
‘Share a bathroom with them, then,’ I shrugged, walking to the door. ‘Because I don’t want it.’
‘Don’t you just hate getting out of the bath, though?’ he asked, blocking the doorway with his body. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier with a tasteful bath tub cut out?’
‘You keep saying tasteful like that means something.’
He sighed, his shoulders dropping with disappointment, doing his absolute best impression of a dog that had just been kicked.
‘Fine,’ I rolled my eyes. ‘How much will this tasteful bathtub remodel cost us?’
He pulled a pamphlet from his jacket – wrapped in a white ribbon, presumably from when he’d thought I’d say yes – and presented it to me. I skimmed it, making sure my expression remained neutral-to-annoyed.
‘Not bad,’ I eventually conceded, handing him back the pamphlet.
‘So…?’ he asked, eyes wide with excitement.
‘I’ll think about it,’ I shrugged. ‘But I wouldn’t get your hopes up.’
‘Oh, please,’ he chuckled. ‘I’ve been married to you for five years – my hopes couldn’t be lower.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘I didn’t even think I’d get you this far.’