And then we both burst out laughing.
“I didn’t mean to make that sound so threatening,” I say.
“No, it’s cool. I threatened you first,” she says, full on giggling.
“Is this what they call mutually assured destruction?”
“Let’s soften that. Mutually assureddevotion. It’s not creepy at all.”
“Not at all.”
We both chuckle into the phone. “Your game’s about to start, isn’t it?” I ask.
She makes a humph sound. “Yes. I wish you were here.”
“Me too. And I wish you could be here for the potluck Sunday.”
“On second thought, maybe Nashville isn’t so bad,” she teases.
“Nashvilleisso bad. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Mutually assured devotion, for the win.”
I stay on the phone for a few seconds after she hangs up, not wanting this connection to end. For a minute, it feels like I’m on hold, just waiting for her to pop back on whenever’s convenient for her.
I’d wait on hold for a lifetime for a woman like her. For her.
But the thing is, I don’t think she’d ask that.
The more time I spend with Kayla, the harder it becomes to think of this relationship as purely out of necessity.
We’re not in love. We don’t have years of emotional connection to build a life on.
But who’s to say we can’t build one while we’re married?
I rub my thumb over my wedding band, feeling the solid, faceted surface catch under my skin—strong enough to take a few hits, and it shines brighter with each one.
It’s not a heavy ring, but it’s substantial, like it’s made of more than metal.
I glance at the tumbler on the entry table again, waiting like a promise, telling me she’s only stepped out for a second.
And maybe she’s already looking forward to coming back.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
KAYLA
Iwake up in an impossibly soft bed in a hotel room that smells faintly of bergamot and “success,” a combination I’ve smelled enough times that it shouldn’t make me feel so out of place. Nor should the monochrome art and neutral palette. This room is like an echo of the world I ran from.
And that’s the problem.
I left it.
I ran toward something different, something rustic yet vibrant. Something teeming with life and mess and possibility.
And yet, here I am.
It’s a hotel for a work trip.Go easy on yourself.
