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CHAPTEREIGHT
The walk back to the table only takes ten seconds, but it feels like ten years. Luckily, this Alessandro creep wasn’t around when I left. What I get instead is two cosmopolitans sitting on our table, one of which Alyson has almost finished. When she spots me heading toward her, she gives me a cheeky wink.
“Well, that was quicker than usual. Was Alessandro extra excited about seeing you today?”
My eyes widen to saucers. “You know about Alessandro?” I groan, wondering what the hell is wrong with me.
She pffts, like I’ve said one of the most absurd statements. “Of course I know. It’s one of the reasons we meet here every other week.”
I bury my head in my hands. “Oh my God.” I glance up at Alyson. “Why aren’t you bitching me out about it? I am married, after all.”
Her eyes dart around the restaurant, a smirk on her face. “Is this a test? Am I on camera?” She’s practically giddy at the thought.
This woman is crazy. “No, of course not! You really think I would have this conversation filmed?” She doesn’t respond, so I sigh. “Why am I doing this to Eli? I don’t understand it.”
Alyson’s forehead crinkles, causing a dimple to form in the middle. “You sound as though you’re talking about a different person. Are you okay?”
No, I’m not okay. And yes, I am talking about a different person. This isn’t me. I know it isn’t. I grab my napkin, fiddling with the edge, the motion giving me some form of comfort in this storm I’m in.
“I’m fine,” I reply. “I would just really like to know why I do this.”
“You’re always bitching about Eli never being home, always ignoring you, and how you’ve been in separate bedrooms now for… I think it’s going on for five months now.”
Five months! Does that mean we haven’t had sex in that time?
“You don’t think what I do is bad, though?” It’s a genuine question. It would be nice to know whether my friend has morals at least. I’m learning quickly that mine are extremely hard to come by.
“When your husband doesn’t want to touch his wife anymore, what would a husband expect? No doubt he’s with someone.”
An uneasy feeling sits in the pit of my stomach, making my mouth water with nausea. “You really think he is?”
She picks up her drink, taking a generous sip. “Well, if he is, he’s doing a damn good job of hiding it. You and I know that Eli doesn’t take a leak without the press knowing about it.”
I don’t know whether to feel comforted by this knowledge or not. I’m conflicted. I’m assuming if we haven’t slept in the same bed for almost five months, this means we haven’t had sex either. But, no matter what the issue, it doesn’t give me the right to offer my body like candy.
“Would you lovely senoritas like to order your usual?”
The waiter stands poised waiting for our response. Alyson is about to answer when I say, “No, thank you. Can we get the bill instead?”
The waiter frowns, but nods his head diligently and scurries off.
“Are you crazy, Kendra? I haven’t eaten all day because of this.”
I grab my purse, searching for some money. I flick through some notes, hoping to find a twenty, but all I have is fifties and hundreds. I must have about a thousand bucks in here.
Groaning, I take out a fifty and place it on the table, then look up at Alyson. “I can’t stay here,” I admit. I just slapped the chef in the face. Lord knows what I might get in my lasagna for that.
“Then where else can we go?” she asks, frantically trying to drink up the second cosmopolitan.
“I really fancy a Quarter Pounder with Cheese.”
I jump up from the table and head towards the door.
“Hold up, hold up, did I just hear you correctly?” Alyson barks, racing to keep up.
I stop as I get to the door and turn to her. “I could really murder a McDonald’s.”
I note the complete shock on her face before I open the door and walk out. Craig spots me, a small frown on his face. I’m obviously a lot earlier than expected.
