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Ha.
If only Natalie knew that neither I nor Zach planned on seeing much of each other after the next few weeks. Not that it mattered much to Eileen.
She’d been the one to request a clause that allowed extramarital dating, just in case she ever got overheraversion to people.
“Thanks for the advice, Natalie, but Zach doesn’t like randos here after hours.” I wiggled my fingers her way. “Toodles.”
“Wait… You don’t actually think he’s into you, do you?”
No.
Yes.
Maybe a little.
I knew his body liked me. And that his mind enjoyed my company. But I also knew the same could be said about sex toys.
I didn’t answer her question, dumping the leftover water and soaping up the glass.
“You know you’re just a toy for him.” She observed me with a crescent smile, trying to gauge if her poisonous arrow hit anything vital. “I see you guys sneaking around the house. You’re just his plaything. Eileen’s the real deal.”
I kept my expression neutral, rinsing off the suds, telling myself what I always told myself whenever Reggie informed me that she needed to bleach her eyes after looking at me.
Hatred isn’t about what you lack. It’s about someone finding something they want in you and realizing they can’t take it.
“Still don’t believe me?” She hissed out a laugh. “Look at him with you, then look at him with Eileen. That’s all the answer you need.”
I set the glass down in the sink with too much force. It cracked, a tiny shard tunneling its way into my palm.
I was bleeding.
Inside and out.
Why, Fae? Why? It’s just an arrangement.
But it wasn’t.
And it was time I admitted it.
I kept my hand in the sink so Natalie couldn’t see it. Forever an injured animal fighting to save face.
I feigned a smile, the buzz wearing off. “Is that all?”
“Maybe check the dining room.” Natalie hitched a shoulder up, dissatisfied I didn’t burst into tears. “It’ll wipe that smug look off your face.”
Idid not, in fact, check the dining room.
First, I checked Zach’s office, taking the stairs two at a time, itching to end the magical night with him.
The doors swung against the stoppers as I burst into the room. He’d installed them there a few weeks ago, after the first time he’d witnessed me rattle the shelves bracketing the doorframe.
I ambled into the room, barefoot, checking left and right, stopping to stroke a Go stone.
Not here.
Next, I strolled to his bedroom, knocking first.
No answer.
