I raid my memories, searching for any examples. But there’s nothing—she was always smiling and kind to Jade. And wouldn’t Jade have told me if that were the case? Maybe Jade just didn’t like her because Mila wanted me.
And she got you.
No, she didn’t.
I close my eyes, irritated. I refuse to argue with myself, but it’s hard.
I kissed Mila.
Beinghereinourhouse makes that admission even harder to accept. Everything we built together, every memory and kiss, every time we made love, every laugh…it’s echoing all around me. I drag my hand through my hair and check my socials, wondering if she’s reached out there.
She hasn’t, but Mila has on Instagram from her fitness account.
Mila: Hey, Dev. Just wanted to say I hope you’re okay. I’m sure you and Jade have worked things out, and if I can help at all, just let me know.
Well, she could help by telling Jade that nothing happened.
I scoff. Jade won’t even speak to me, let alone Mila.
I try calling Jade again, but it’s the same as last time. No text messages either—it’s like my wife has disappeared.
I wonder whether to text Katrina, just to see if she’s okay. My thumb hovers over the envelope icon next to her name, and I wince as I press it.
DEVON: Is Jade okay?
I hit send before I can stop myself and then spend the next tenminutes waiting for the blue dots to appear, telling me Katrina is typing, but there’s nothing.
I pour an orange juice and pace the kitchen.
Then I hear a beep. I almost vault myself over the sofa.
KATRINA: No. Leave her alone.
I let out a strangled cry before groaning.
Oh, fuck.
Chapter Ten
JADE
I stare at the blank screen of my phone, wondering if I feel brave enough to turn it on.
Probably not.
What can Devon say anyway? “Sorry hon, I spent the night with the girl who bullied you all the way through high school, but nothing happened even though I was hammered.”
Yeah, right.
The more I think about it, the less I find it believable. But this is Devon. The man who has worshipped me my whole life. The other part of me, my soulmate. Even though we are so different, him with his fitness and me with my writing, we still make a great team.
A pang echoes through my already empty chest.
Didn’t we?
“More coffee?”
Katrina’s voice interrupts my spiraling thoughts, and I nod, dutifully holding out my empty mug. I’ve lost count of how many coffees I’ve had today, and it’s barely midday.
