Page 86 of Manhattan Bossholes

“Hey, when it comes to you, I’m gonna step up,” he said with conviction in his voice. “Vincent’s a big guy, sure, but I’m scrappy. I can hold my own—I took Brazilian jujitsu back in college. All of those big muscles of his will slow him down. I’m nimble!” He did a duck-and-weave move. “I’m serious, Piper. Do you want me to choke him out?”

I was full-on laughing by the time he finished his tough-guy speech.

“Paul, no. Not necessary.”

He was staring into space like he was visualizing how a match with Vincent could play out. “Hold on, maybe I could tag team with Aiden? He’s the former football player—he’s got strength and agility.”

“I’m serious. No bodily harm is necessary, but thank you,” I said as I squeezed his hand.

“I hate the way things ended up with you two,” he said as he locked onto me with worried eyes. “I know him, and he’s better than that.”

“Is he?” I asked pointedly. “You tell me—what was his history with women before me?”

He winced. “Yeah, okay. Fair point. But…I’m not trying to contradict you, I swear. All I want to say is that this isn’t the Vincent I know.”

The waiter stopped by to get our drink orders, which gave me a moment to take a breath. I didn’t want to think about the “good” side of Vincent. It was easier to focus on the asshole.

“Enough about me,” I said as I settled in. “How’s married life?”

He blew out a sigh. “It’s…a lot.”

“Already? This is supposed to be the literal honeymoon phase. What the hell is going on?”

“Everything blew up over an earring,” he admitted sheepishly.

I settled against the banquette. “Okay, spill it.”

He took a deep breath. “So obviously you know about the whole something old, something new tradition,” he began. “Chloe’s old thing was a pair of earrings her grandmother left her. Little diamonds with pearl drops?”

I nodded. I knew all about them.

“Well, she accidentally lost one of them in the hotel suite on our wedding night, and we didn’t realize it was missing until we came back from the honeymoon. That triggered a total breakdown. I guess I was a little, uh, dismissive about it, and we had a huge fight. And I left to go stay at Vincent’s.”

He looked downright sheepish.

“Paul,” I said slowly. “Did she tell you why those earrings were so important to her?”

“It’s obvious why—they’re heirlooms, and probably expensive as hell.”

“No, it’s way more than just that. Wow, you two really need to learn how to communicate if you’re going to make this work,” I scolded lightly. “Chloe and I had a long talk the day of the elevator debacle. She told me her grandmother died of breast cancer. And then, her mom had a shadow on her last mammogram, which required a biopsy. It was all going down the week before your wedding, so it was wedding stress compounded by real-life stress.”

“Oh no way.” His face fell. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

“She didn’t want to add another stressor to everything else you guys were dealing with, so she figured the best course of action was to keep it bottled up.” I paused. “You’re not the only one to blame for it, Paul. She needs to be open when she’s facing something tough, but you do need to give her the space to talk about these kinds of challenges.”

He cradled his head in his hands. “Fuck. Yeah, leading up to the wedding, things got pretty crazy. There was just so much that needed to get done. I spent all my time checking things off lists. It didn’t give us a lot of openings to really talk. I guess I let the important stuff fall off the radar. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t push to find out what it was. I guess I was a little afraid. We seemed so…fragile as a couple. I didn’t want to shatter what was holding us together.”

I reached out to slide my arm around his shoulder. “Oh, come on. You two are strong as hell. You just need to learn to navigate life’s challenges. They’re going to keep coming, you know.”

He made a frustrated noise. “Right? Add a baby in the mix, and we’re screwed if we don’t figure it out.”

“Hold on a second!” I leaned away from him. “Baby? Do you have something you want to tell me?”

“Oh god, no, not yet,” he laughed. “I’ve barely touched her in a week.”

“Okay, that’s TMI,” I said and plugged my ears.

“I need to make it right,” Paul continued. “Should I send flowers?”