Free The World in Reverse by Latrivia Nelson

match.
    “FYI. This is not how I want to spend my anniversary,” she said sarcastically as she heard one of the kids scream again. “So, despite this case, you had better be planning something great. You have a little over six weeks to r eserve hotels and first-class tickets, buy me an awesome piece of jewelry…you know a diamond- esque anniversary gift and…”
    “Wait. How do you know that I haven’t a lready done that?” he asked with a serious face.
    Ivy turned her lips up in a smirk. “Because I’ve been married to you for six years.”
    “And?” Nicola said with a frown. “Every year I do something amazing.”
    She said his name slowly, over enunciating every syllable. “Ni-co-la…you know I love you, but your anniversary gifts always suck.”
    “Baby!” Nicola said applauded. “How can you…” He shook his head as if he could not process her words. “The massage thing that I bought you with the prongs to work your deep tissue…”
    “A dildo,” she said throwing down a pair of socks into one of the kids’ baskets. She rolled her eyes at him.
    “That was not a dildo. I bought that thing at the mall by one of those massage chair things. And what about the Dead Sea bath salt big basket bullshit I bought you that one year…” he argued.
    Ivy cut him off. “That shit broke me out. I had to go to a dermatologist, Nicky, remember? It changed my complexion forever.”
    Nicola snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “The diamond tennis bracelet.”
    “You got me pregnant right after that.”
    “ But you liked the tennis bracelet, right?”
    Ivy shook her head. “Plan something nice, Nicky. I’m not playing. I deserve it.”
    “What? This is great,” he said, adding sage to his special sauce. He tasted the spoon and smiled, revealing deep dimples in his well-tanned face. “We’re all going to sit down like a family and have dinner and...” He looked down at the red sauce as it splattered on his apron. Rubbing his finger against the stain, he slipped his finger in his mouth. “Finger-licking good.” He smiled at Ivy.
    His boyish charms still made her heart skip a beat, but over time, she had learned to hide it.
    “You know you still like what I do with my fingers, girl,” he joked. “And my tongue for that matter. The other night I almost lost consciousness in that leg-lock, death grip you put me.”
    “I don’t know what you are talking about,” she chuckled.
    “Oh, you don’t know what I’m talking about. I damned near saw stars when you let go of me. You practically smashed my entire head.”
    Ivy laughed this time, recalling the encou nter.
    She looked up from her pile of laundry and gave a cool smile. “You’re in a lot better mood now, huh? Since you came clean about your investigation. The few days before that you were edgy.” She observed as she placed a large bundle of folded clothes in a clean hamper to haul upstairs later.
    Nicola raised his brow while he dumped more oregano in his sauce. “I’m always in a better mood when I’m with you guys,” he said, stirring the food. He looked at her for a moment with a half-smile, his large, brown eyes sparkled with phony calm, but Ivy could see his pain. She stood up from her chores and walked over to the counter. Leaning against it, she reached her hand out and touched her husband’s face.
    “Want to talk about it?” she asked. Her voice was low and soothing, as normal.
    “What? Talk about what?” He took his eyes off her and focused on the spaghetti.
    There was a slight hint of frustration in her voice when she realized that he was going to try to avoid any resemblance of a discussion about his work. “Talk about today?” she continued. “About yesterday? About any of it? This can’t be easy. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought and it’s the only way you’re going to survive this case.”
    He stopped stirring his food and looked up. His long eyelashes flapped like wings. “No, baby, I don’t want to talk