The Reed Security Relationship Manual: A Reed Security Romance - Giulia Lagomarsino (best book club books of all time TXT) 📗

when it comes to weight-loss and women. There’s no way you can win that one. If you tell her she’s skinny, she thinks you’re lying. And if you tell her that her jeans are too tight, it’s like you’re telling her she’s fat.”

“Yeah,” Jackson nodded. “I fell into that trap with Raegan. She put on this pair of jeans and asked me if they were too tight on her. I was smart and told her I wasn’t falling for her trap. And she turned to me with these sad eyes and told me that she needed my honest opinion, that if she didn’t look good in something, she needed me to tell her before she went out in public. So, I looked her up and down-“

Gabe hissed in a breath. “Wrong move.”

“No shit,” Jackson spat. “And I said, the jeans looked a little tight on her. Maybe she should lose a few pounds or buy a bigger size.” He blew out a harsh breath, shaking his head. “It was like the pit of hell opened and the flames were shooting out at me. From that moment on, I have never had a conversation with her about her weight.”

“So, what do you say then?” I asked curiously.

“Nothing.”

“You don’t say anything?”

“Nope. I ignore her and pretend like she isn’t talking.”

“And that works?”

“Not really, but she gets the hint eventually.”

“So, what happened with Morgan,” Gabe asked, “after the whole replacement drink thing?”

I sighed, running my hand across my forehead. “She started crying, and I didn’t know why the hell she was crying, so I…I rolled my eyes and said, What’s wrong now?”

Gabe sucked in a breath, shaking his head slightly. “Okay, I get that you’re new to the whole relationship thing, but let me fill you in on a few of the finer points of making sure that you don’t end up divorced anytime soon. First, you never EVER roll your eyes when you see her crying. That’s like telling her that her feelings don’t matter.”

“But she was crying over a shake. Sorry, but how is that even something worth crying over?”

“To her, it matters because she thinks you’re excited for her to lose the weight. It doesn’t matter what your intentions are in this situation. You fucked yourself over.”

“He’s right,” Jackson nodded. “If she comes to you crying, your initial thought should always be that you fucked up in one way or another. And you probably did. The question is, how do you figure out what the hell you did? This has nothing to do with how rational she is. This is about making sure that you figure out the problem and handle it as swiftly and with as little damage as possible. Think of it as dismantling a bomb.”

“But…how do you figure out what you did when you have no fucking clue what it is? Especially with a pregnant woman. How the hell would I know that a shake would set off a tsunami?”

“This is where you really have to pay attention,” Gabe said. “You need to examine your last conversation with her, because this is most likely where you fucked up. You probably didn’t even realize what you had said, and you left thinking everything was okay. Meanwhile, she’s been stewing over there for hours, thinking about the shit thing you said or did.”

“Except, in all reality, you probably won’t ever figure out what you said or did until she points it out,” Jackson added.

“Then why would I go to all the trouble of trying to figure it out?” I asked in frustration.

“Because on the off chance that you can figure it out, you have time to do damage control,” Gabe said. “Imagine if you had figured out that the shakes were an issue before all the crying and shit. What would you have done differently?”

“Cancel the order?” I said.

“No, she wants them,” Jackson said. “You were doing a good thing. Don’t discount that.”

“Okay, uh…gift wrap it for her.”

Gabe shook his head. “Here, have a weight loss gift from me to you.” He huffed out a laugh. “Seriously, it’s like you don’t even want to be married.”

I clenched my jaw in frustration. “Can you just tell me instead of having me guess at this?”

Jackson grinned. “But it’s so much fun to see you struggle the way all of us had to.”

“Look, it’s simple,” Gabe stepped in. “You just say that you remembered her talking about it, and the more you thought about it, the more you thought you might like to try it too. So, you ordered it for both of you to do together, so you could hold each other accountable.”

“But I don’t need to lose any weight.”

“And that would be another thought you keep in that pretty little head of yours if you don’t want to get divorced,” Jackson muttered.

“So, I buy her this shit and then tell her we’ll do it together, even though I don’t need to do it, all so that she doesn’t cry?”

“Exactly,” Gabe said.

I shook my head. “You know, there are psychiatrists that deal with this shit.”

“Look, it’s simple,” Jackson said. “Crying is second nature to women. It’s a fucking landmine for men. There are some basics you can ask yourself. Is it her time of the month? Did you forget to kiss her? Did you stare at another woman for too long? It’s inevitable that we will fuck up in some way or another at least three times a week during marriage, and that’s a low estimate. We have these tools in our belt so that we can navigate our relationships.”

“And if you’re not willing to use those tools, you can always go the other, more dangerous route,” Gabe shrugged.

“Which would be?”

He glanced around and then leaned in. “Alright, I do not recommend this shit to just anyone. It’s a dangerous move and could land you in a shit ton of trouble, but if pulled off correctly, you’re golden. So, what you do is you drop subtle apologies and pretend you know