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“I don’t know,” she hesitated. “It seemed a little tense when I was over earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah, no, everything is fine. We had an argument yesterday. I’m surprised you noticed. Sorry if it was uncomfortable.”

“Oh no! It wasn’t, I just thought something felt off. What was it about?”

“Hmm?”

“The argument.”

“Ah . . . Nothing really. Just the house hunting stuff. It’s so stressful. I’m sure you guys will have to go through it soon though,” I said, poking her again.

“I don’t know, we love our apartment.”

“If you ever want to have kids though . . .” I let the sentence trail off.

Her eyes widened. “Are you guys . . . ?”

“No, no,” I said quickly, looking back out the window. “Bill just wants the space and well, you never know I guess.”

“That would be so exciting,” I heard, but she sounded miles away.

“Please, Luce,” I begged, “I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Oh. Sorry. Gretchen says tomorrow is your mother’s birthday,” she said thoughtfully.

I rolled my head to face her and sighed. “So?”

“Are you going to call her?”

I pursed my lips. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

“You should, Livs. I’m sure she’d like that.”

When I didn’t respond, she scooted over, wrapped her arms around me and planted a kiss on my cheek. “I’ll see you next week, yeah?” I looked up and realized we were approaching her building.

“Sure,” I said, giving her a smile. “I can’t wait to see my bridesmaid dress.”

I refused her money and told her she could get the next one. I watched as she climbed the steps and disappeared through the doors. When we pulled away, I took out my phone and read a text from earlier.

May 5, 2012 9:09 PM

Btw… killin me in that gold dress, honeybee.

My insides tightened. I should’ve been indignant at the brazen comment, but the thought of him ogling me sent my mind into a tailspin. I stared at the text almost the whole way home until, with a swipe of my finger, I deleted the entire conversation.

“No charge this evening,” said the cabby as he pulled up to the curb.

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“No charge.” He smiled into the rearview mirror.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Why not?” I asked.

His face fell, and his eyes darted away. “No charge, ma’am. Thank you. Good evening.”

“Well, at least let me tip you,” I said, looking back into my purse.

“No, ma’am. No, thank you. It’s all taken care of.”

I gaped at him. Refusing a tip? What? “All right,” I conceded finally. “Goodnight.”

I exited the cab and watched him drive off, wondering which institution he’d just escaped from. Then I remembered my conversation with David. He had orchestrated this. He didn’t want me walking home. How had he known I would take the ride? Did he think he knew me so well? I bristled at the thought.

~

I sighed heavily, stretching out my legs. The wine had put me into a mini coma, and I woke groggily. Bill’s hand reached out and pulled me closer, sliding over my front. I felt him against my backside and panicked. He hadn’t attempted sex since New York, when I’d been on my period. It meant we hadn’t slept together since the night I first saw David. There he was again, infiltrating my thoughts, when I should be focusing on Bill. I felt his face in my neck, and his mouth on my jawbone.

“Bill,” I said quietly. “I can’t, I’m so hungover.” And it was the truth. A wave of nausea rippled through me, and I sat up. Bill flopped over and sighed, making no secret of his dissatisfaction. I headed to the bathroom to wash my face, letting the warm water momentarily soothe me. When I came out, he was gone, and I was greeted with the comforting smell of brewing coffee.

“How was last night?” he asked, unfazed by my earlier rejection.

“Nice,” I said, climbing onto a barstool. “Spirits were high, and the food was yummy.”

“And the head chef?”

“Seems really sweet. Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance against Gretchen, though.”

He laughed. “How does she do it? She’s a pretty girl but damn, I wouldn’t touch her.”

“Why not?”

“She’s always dating someone new, who knows how many guys she’s slept with? Gives me the creeps just thinking about it.”

“Babe, she doesn’t sleep with all the guys she goes out with, and if she did, who cares? That doesn’t make her a bad person.”

“I’m just saying, it would be a deal breaker for me.”

“So if you’d found out I had a reputation, you never would have gone out with me?”

“Probably not. I don’t want to know that half of Chicago has seen my wife naked. I’m not going to find that out am I?” he teased, grimacing.

“No.” I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Why should my history have anything to do with the way Bill feels about me?

“Not only that, but she’s sometimes dating two guys at once.”

“That’s not that unusual when you’re single.”

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