Page 16 of The Marriage Rebound

But this wasn’t the time. “Look, it’s not a big deal. Sash and I are havin’ a moment. It’s nothin’ we won’t figure out.”

“Um . . . unless you’ve done this before—staying with Tina—whatever the ‘moment’ is, it’s different.” Shae shot a look at Tina, who shook her head in answer to the implied question. “Exactly, so, what the hell?”

I glanced at Doc, who said nothing, then shifted my gaze to my other two friends. “Y’all, this is supposed to be a ‘bitch, we champions’ dinner, not ‘let’s analyze Courtney’s occasionally rocky relationship.’”

Doc set down her plate and reached over to squeeze my arm. “I know I’m the newest member of the group, but I don’t think it’s analyzing, but more like friends checking in because we’re concerned and care.”

“What Doc said,” Tina chimed in. “When you texted asking if you could stay, I was like yeah, no problem. Didn’t pry because I figured you’d say when you were ready, but either way I got you, no question.”

“Exactly,” Shae said again. “Look, we knew the vibe was off when we got back. The tension between y’all was on another level.”

I blew out a long breath. “I know. I know. But not tonight.” I drained the last of my beer, then got up to get something a little stronger from Tina’s liquor cabinet.

I knew they meant well, and the whole thing sat like heavy stones around my neck, but this hangout wasn’t about me. I needed to figure out all the conflicting shit going on in my head, and I didn’t want to say anything in my frustration that would paint Sasha in a negative light.

Pulling out my phone, I scrolled to our last text exchange. She’d actually reached out. She hadn’t apologized, but she had said she missed me. That was something, but not enough.

But something.

Because she never made the first move. And that . . . that meant a lot.

Chapter 8

Courtney

The buzzing of my phone cut through the sleep haze. I slapped at the nightstand, trying to find the offending device without opening my eyes. It took a few pats before I made contact just as it stopped.

Before I could even lift my hand, my cell started vibrating again. Squinting one eye open, it took me a moment for the screen to focus enough to read the name flashing on the screen.

I groaned before sliding the green button to answer the call. “Sash, what’s up?”

“Bay-bee, I nee’ you.”

I had to yank the phone away from my ear because of the loudness of her yelling over the music in the background. Fuck. I rolled to sitting, rubbing my hand over my face to scrub away the rest of the sleep so I could focus on whatever drunken randomness Sasha was about to start at three a.m.

“Sasha, what . . . what do you need that couldn’t wait ’til the morning?”

“A riid. Darrell won’t le’ me drive.”

That was a shot of adrenaline to wake me. And an instant spike to my heart rate. Not only was she drunk, she was with some man. I turned on the bedside lamp and tossed the covers back. “Who the fuck is Darrell and where the fuck are you?”

I put the phone on speaker then tugged a sweatshirt on over my T-shirt. She didn’t answer right away, and it sounded like she was fumbling with the phone. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! My heart hammered as I yanked a pair of joggers on. My wife was out somewhere, possibly alone and in a dangerous situation, and I had no idea how to fucking help her if she didn’t let me know where she was. Shit! Shit! Shit!

Her ass could be reckless at times, but putting herself in danger? Where the hell were her friends? Even that ain’t-shit one would be better than nothing. “Sasha! What the fuck is goin’ on?”

Muffled talking before a man’s voice on her line stopped me cold. “Hey, Courtney, it’s me Darrell over at The Candy Shop.”

The tightening in my chest loosened. I remembered him. He was the bouncer at the strip club Sasha used to dance at. Luckily, the folks there knew her and would keep her relatively safe. And out of trouble.

“Hey, Darrell. What happened?”

“Nothin’, she just had one too many and I ain’t finna let her drive.”

“Nah, nah, I feel you. Just sit her somewhere and I’ll be there in a bit. Thanks, Darrell. Really.”

“No problem.”

After disconnecting the call, I massaged my temples. That was a roller coaster of emotions in too short a time too early in the morning. Slipping on my slides, I grabbed my wallet and keys from the nightstand, turned off the lamp, and quietly exited my friend’s guest room hoping I didn’t wake her.