Jade comes downstairs with wet hair and a blank face. She sits across from me at the kitchen table and eats her pancakes in small, deliberate bites, her eyes refusing to meet mine. She’s rigid, her knuckles white around the fork.
I watch her, searching for the woman who threw a pillow at me an hour ago. The one who smiled when I caught her looking. “Are you okay? You were up there for a while.”
"I’m fine."Her tone is clipped and cold.
She’snotfine. I’m not stupid, but I don’t want to fuck anything up. Last night felt like progress, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing. So, I eat my pancakes and pretend I don't notice how she’s behaving.
But fuck me, it’s hard.
I catch her glaring at me, but she looks away when she sees me looking.
What the fuck?
“Jade, are you sure?—”
“I said I’m fine, Devon. Drop it, will you?” Jade snaps, shoving her uneaten pancakes away before she stomps back upstairs.
Ouch, okay.
Definitely not fine, but I’m not going there.
Suddenly, I’m not hungry either.
"See you tonight," I call after her before gathering my things for the day, reaching for my bag.
Suddenly I’m not hungry either.
She doesn’t respond.
Okay, think. We’ve gone from rock bottom to making love, to… what the fuck is this?
The door closes behind me, and I stand outside for a long moment, trying to shake the feeling that I've missed something.
What though?
I don't check my phone until I'm in the locker room after my shift. I’m exhausted and wary about seeing Jade. Something is off, and I don’t have a clue what. I thought we were all good. I stare at my phone; the blood draining from my face when I see what’s waiting for me.
Three messages. All from a number I should have blocked the fucking second I landed back in LA.
UNKNOWN: Hey. I've been thinking about you.Mila.
UNKNOWN: I hope things are better with Jade. I really do.
UNKNOWN: Can we talk? I'm actually in LA for a few days. It would be good to clear the air.
My stomach drops like I’m on the world’s shittest roller coaster.
She's here.In my city. In the same zip code as my wife.
I sink onto the bench, my towel forgotten in my hands, and read the messages again.
I see the message above these—unread by me and sent last night when I was in bed with my wife.
UNKNOWN: I keep thinking about that night. I know you said it was a mistake, but it didn't feel like one. Not to me. Mila.
Fuck.Fuck.
Did Jade see this? Is that why breakfast felt so fucking weird?
