“No,” I say.
I walk around her.
From the corner of my eye I catch a flash of rose-gold. I turn.
It’s my wife’s car. Lila steps out, and I forget completely about the actresses and the film crew and the annoying morning I’ve had.
Lila’s hair is down and blowing around her face. She spots me across the field and raises a hand.
As I pick up my pace to get to her faster, I watch her walk toward me too and think about this morning, watching her get dressed in our bedroom. Admiring the way she always knows exactly what goes with what, the colors and textures she puts together like it’s effortless. And I think about what I know that nobody else here does: that under the cream sweater and the blue skirt there is pale lace, soft and pretty, and that it’s mine to peel off later.
Lucky tears ahead of me, barking joyfully, and I follow at a stride that is probably faster than is dignified.
But something’s off.
I can tell before I even reach her. Lila usually smiles when she sees me, a warm, gorgeous hello that I’ve quietly come to rely on without admitting it, and right now it’s absent. Her face is carefully composed.
I pull her in and kiss her anyway, savoring her softness. Her scent.
She’s stiff in my arms. Barely returns the kiss.
The alarms start going off inside me.
Chapter 40
Freedom
SLADE
Ipull back and look at her, running through possibilities. Something at work. Something with her family.
Something I did?
“What’s the matter?” I ask. “Did something go wrong at the install?”
“Nothing’s wrong.” Her voice is light. Too light. “I just got done early and Sadie texted to invite me out here.” Her gaze flickers over my shoulder. Just briefly. “I see you met the actresses.”
“Yeah. Listen, Rafe was just here and he thinks?—”
“They’re gorgeous,” Lila blurts.
I stop, confused by the two different conversations we seem to be having.
“They did that movie together,” she says, not quite looking at me. “That huge hit thriller where they have a threesome with the other guy? It was everywhere.”
“Never heard of it.” I try again. “Lila, you should know?—”
“I don’t want to get in the way.” The words come out carefully, like she’s been holding them in the whole walk over to me. “If you met someone you’re interested in. For real.”
I stare at her.
“We can dissolve this at any time,” she says. Her voice is steady but her hands aren’t. She’s worrying the strap of her bag. “I don’t care about the money. I don’t care if my family tries to claw it back. If this marriage stops being convenient, if you want a divorce?—”
“A divorce?” I repeat, astonished.
What the hell is happening right now?
“You know. If you want your freedom.” Her gaze goes back to the actresses.
