They moved the swing outside to view the surrounding countryside and stars. At least that was Wheeler’s plan. Newt just wanted better reception for his wifi. He wanted to check how the NBA playoffs were going and some other stuff. Back to his laptop…
“I know what you look at when I’m not around, one time hubby of mine.”
“You do?” Lakers lose to Timberwolves by 5. But Luka was sick. Someone in Minnesota gave him food poisoning on purpose? he couldn’t help ruminate. So he was involved in that and not really listening to Wheeler. Typical.
“Yeah. I know your plan. You want to get to 100 by the time you’re 80. Smart.”
He pulls up a clip, making sure the sound is turned down. Luka missing a three and then missing a pass to the corner he’d make 99 out of 100 times. Yeah: sick obviously. Oh well, there’s always next year. “Yeah,” he says, still 1/2 listening at best. “Or 80 by 100, whichever,” he jokes weakly.
“It’s because of me.”
Clip over, Newt looks at Wheeler. Those eyes change daily, maybe hourly. Changeling. “Of course it’s because of you,” he said, closing the laptop now. The Lakers season might be over just as much as his dreams of a second marriage might be over. “Even if we can’t get married… again,” he tacks on.
“It’s all for the best. I mean, let’s say there’re two holes, two portals… into this world they call Our Second Lyfe. Actually I guess that’s only us that calls it that.” She laughs slightly. He smiles.
“I know what you’re getting at.” He opens back up the laptop. “A kiss will do for now.”
He logs in as himself and continues onward.
Sunklands 