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Parker squeezes my knee. “Babe. You’re spiraling.” I exhale. “Unclench your jaw.” I relax. “Good. Now, please never use moist and humping in the same sentence again, and your rule was stupid. It was never going to stick.” I go to speak, but she raises a brow, silencing me. “Lemme finish. So long as you’re not using sex as a weapon, what’s the harm? It sounds like you’re getting along better, communicating more, and isn’t that the point of this? To find the old Talia and Tate again?”
“The point was him recovering and taking a break.” I nibble my lip. “And sex complicates everything.”
“Does it? Or are you just afraid of what it’ll mean? The two of you have only ever been with one another. I don’t play into the whole sacred virginities, but that’s kinda special.”
It is special, not for what it stands for, but for how much we’ve grown together, as individuals and as a couple. Our relationship wasn’t purely physical, but sex was how we bonded. Where we relaxed. Where I wasn’t afraid to be myself.
“If Tate leaves, do you think we’ll survive?” If anyone’s going to give it to me straight, it’s Parker.
She doesn’t blurt the first thing that comes to mind. She contemplates her response for a moment before jumping off the barrel. “That’s really down to the two of you. I won’t lie to you and say you handled his departure well; you shut down, and I get why you did, but I don’t want to see you like that again. Tate has another year left on his term. What if he renews or goes on a world tour?”
“We haven’t discussed it.” I press my lips together.
Parker sighs. “Tals, he’s been here three weeks. I get there’s a lot for you to discuss, but that should really be at the top of your priority list.”
“I know. I know. But things are going well between us. We’ve stopped biting each other’s head off and acting bitter. It’s kinda like…”
“Like you’ve got your husband back.” She nods in understanding. “I guess you have to decide whether to enjoy the time you have left together or address the elephant in the room.”
“I hate it when you’re right. Here’s me thinking you’d be chasing Tate out of town.”
Her lips turn down. “Like I say, not all men, and your man is an exception. He fucked up, but he’s here now.” She plucks up the whiskey thief, a long, shiny copper tool, and wields it like a sword. “But say the word…”
My shoulders shake. “You’ll be the first to fight in my honor.”
She nods in satisfaction. “So, when’s the next date?”
“We haven’t discussed what we’re doing.” I don’t miss the twang of disappointment in my voice. Ten days ago, I was dreading them, and now I’m eager to see where he takes me next.
“Why don’t you organize one?” Parker suggests.
“I wouldn’t even know where to go.”
She thinks for a second, humming, before she snaps her fingers. “You’ve got the charity gala with work coming up, right?”
I stare at my hands. “Yeah, but he won’t want to go to that.”
It’s a poor excuse. Tate loved those events. We always had so much fun together; he’d rent a suit, and I’d splurge on a dress for the occasion. We’d dance all night, eat good food, book a room for the night, and order room service breakfast the following morning.
Last year I went alone, and I’d prepared myself to do the same this year. At least this time I wouldn’t be coming home to a bombshell in my living room. But who knows with Tate. He loves surprises, but the one he dropped on me last year didn’t leave me sharing the same excitement.
“Wouldn’t he?” Parker leans in. “Or are you just too chicken to ask?”
I shove her face away, making her laugh. “Haven’t you got work to do?”
But the more I mull it over, the more the idea grows on me.
TWENTY-EIGHT
TATE
LAST YEAR–EARLY MAY
When the car pulls up outside our apartment building, all the windows are dark, no sign of life inside. It’s past midnight and Talia is still at the charity gala or asleep. I thank the driver, not used to being chauffeured around in a swanky Mercedes, but I guess I should start getting used to it now. The shiny black car stands out against the beat-up trucks and minivans parked along Main Street.
I stare at the brick building we’ve lived in for almost eight years. Sometime soon, I can move us out of the tiny one-bed and into something bigger and better.
A shaky breath leaves me as I pull out my keys, hands trembling, my body buzzing with excitement. The moment I step into our apartment, I know our life will change forever.
