“I’ll do it. Can you tell Sadie to get out? Maybe she’ll listen better to you than me.” James gives me a small smirk and a nod as I turn to the inside of the house to collect the gathered bag of trash resting by the entryway. I heft it in my hands and drag it outside the front door. It takes some heavy lifting for me to heave it into the bin, and I miss on the first try, causing the bag to land on the ground where a pool of trash juice leaks out the bottom.
“Shit!” I mutter under my breath.
“You need some help there?”
I look over my shoulder to see Everett strolling up the driveway. He looks cool and easygoing in his warm sun kissed skin, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, shorts cut high above his knees with a shirt that stretches across his chest, discreetly showing off his broad shoulders. His hair looks a little messy yet laid back, making him look more chic than disheveled as he walks toward me with ease.
“I think so,” I confess sheepishly. He takes the straps of the trash bag from me and swings it in one go while his other hand flicks open the lid effortlessly, not a single muscle straining in the process.
“Okay, you don’t need to show off.”
He chuckles, the deep throatiness of his laughter making my insides warm and gooey. “Is everyone here?”
“Except the newlyweds.”
“I guess they had an exciting night in the honeymoon suite.”
I cringe. “Don’t talk about my brother and his wedding night.”
His laugh becomes infectious as he takes a step closer to me. One that feels guarded and wary. I take a step closer to him too, though my movements are less hesitant, and I realize how much of this is on me. Because Everett isn’t pushing me. He isn’t asking me for anything I’m not willing to offer, only taking moments like this as they come. And that gives me a sudden unexpected boost of confidence, making me bold and a little dizzy.
“I didn’t thank you for the dance last night.” My hand reaches for the belt loop poking out from under the hem of his shirt and I tug at it, gently pulling him closer. We both look down at my hand where the tan line from my wedding ring is too glaring to ignore. My heart twinges at the memory of taking it off last night after the wedding, carefully stowing it away somewhere safe, knowing how much it’s weathered. A wedding, motherhood, hours of baking cookies with Sadie and doing dishes, even a mishap when I thought I’d lost it only to find it fallen behind the toilet tank. It had a good run.
“Is this you thanking me?” he asks. I can feel his eyes search mine through the dark lenses of his Ray-Bans while I avoid the scrutiny of his gaze.
I nod. “Thank you.” I smile up at him, and he lifts his glasses, slipping them off and letting them dangle off his fingers. I finally see his eyes, warm pools of whiskey that light up against the early afternoon sun. And for some reason, the reality of his words hit me at full force. Like a freight train or a missile, crashing into me in a way I can’t ignore any longer.
He loves me. He’s always loved me. I’m not just some girl he dated in high school, filling his time until he found something better. I am the love of his life. And maybe he’s mine.
“You’re welcome.” I playfully shove at him, and my lips twist into a bashful pout, suddenly feeling shy. “Come here,” he whispers, pulling me into a deep embrace. His large hand cups the back of my head, and I feel him kiss my temple, a heavy sigh expanding his chest. My hands snake up his back, sinking into his arms like I’ve come home. For some reason, everything feels incredibly right.
“Teeny?”
Like a zap of lightning cutting across a midnight sky, we’re broken from this trance-like spell that made me forget where I was. For a second it felt like I was sixteen again, finding solace in the warmth of my boyfriend’s arms after he got home from basketball practice. Or I was doing the usual mundane teenage chore of taking out the trash, and he stopped me from the front steps of his own home next door, finding any excuse to garner some of my attention. And now, it feels like I’ve been caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to be doing.
“Leo.”
“What’s going on?”
“Uh, I—uh…”
“Who the hell is this?”
Everett steps forward with his hand extended toward Leo, his closeness suddenly so loud and blatant, and I feel ashamed of how comfortable I’d gotten in his arms a second ago. “You must be Leo. I’m Everett.”
Leo recoils, the anger spreading across his face with his flared nostrils and flushed face. “What the fuck, Teeny?”
“Leo, this isn’t what it looks like.” I don’t even know why I’m defending myself. Why I feel the need to contradict all the accusations swirling in my husband’s mind as he walked in on what was meant to be just a simple hug with…my friend?
“Are you sure? Because it looks like you’re over here with your ex-boyfriend while I’m trying to pick up our daughter.”
“I know?—”
“You’re married,” he interrupts. “In case you forgot. You’re my wife.”
My blood starts to simmer at his words, and I realize that none of this should matter. Because he’s the reason I’m in this place. He’s the reason I’m finding comfort in the arms of someone else. “Didyouforget?”
“What are you talking about?”
