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‘Even though she was married?’
‘Yes.’ My eyes meet hers and I feel it again. Guilt. Now it’s impossible not to see the recrimination in her features. I guess the situation with her parents makes her see this through a unique veil.
‘I see.’ Her disapproval surprises me. She’s so liberal with sex, I didn’t expect this. Then again, infidelity and sex are two different ball games.
‘But it was just flirtation—I had no intention on acting on it. I don’t want to get married but I still respect the idea of it. I’m not a home-wrecker.’
It’s so important to me that she believes that, but her expression is impossible to read. ‘Then she told me she and her husband were separated.’
Her eyes narrowed. Jessica, clearly, is smarter than I, because the explanation is met with the cynicism I should have felt at the time.
‘We spent the weekend together. I thought I’d got her out of my system. I was done. But she called me the next week, wanting to see me again. What was the harm? They were getting divorced, or so she said.’
She’s very still, waiting for me to continue.
‘They didn’t divorce; she lied to me. I spent over two years supporting her, falling in love with her—or believing I loved her—’ I shake my head impatiently, taking a swig of beer.
‘So you left her?’
I grimace. ‘I gave her an ultimatum. I can’t believe I stuck around as long as I did.’ I replace the beer on the table slowly, wiping condensation from the body of the bottle. ‘I figured she’d had enough time to work out what she wanted. She chose him. To be honest, she never had any intention of leaving him. She was bored—he worked a lot. I adored her and she liked having her ego stroked by a younger guy.’
‘Jesus. I’m sorry, Zach.’
‘Don’t be. It was a valuable learning experience.’
‘Oh? And what did it teach you?’
‘That love is a crock of shit. Though I already knew that—or should have.’
‘It sounds pretty rough.’
‘At the time, yeah. I was surprised at how quickly love turned to hate. She’s a well-known actress, her husband’s a director. I think a big part of it for Emily is that she liked the image they had. They’re one of those perfect Hollywood couples. A divorce would have ruined it. Marriage to me would have dimmed the brilliance of the image she’d constructed.’
‘You wanted to marry her?’ Jessica’s voice is a little squeaky.
I tilt a glance at her. ‘I was stupid, remember?’
‘Wow. I just can’t imagine any world in which you get married to anyone.’
It makes me laugh. ‘How do you know me so well after not even a week?’
‘I’ve known men like you before,’ she reminds me with a twisty smile that makes a dimple form in her cheek.
She’s teasing, but for some reason I don’t really like her assertion.
‘Have you?’
‘Mmm. Though you’re the first one I’ve actually liked.’ Her eyes widen. ‘I just mean “liked” as in, enjoyed spending time with beyond the bedroom.’ She dips her head forward, her cheeks flashing pink. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Jessica embarrassed. Fascinating. ‘I don’t mean “like, like”.’
‘As in you don’t harbour a secret romantic crush on me?’
She lifts her eyes and glares through me. ‘As if.’
I laugh. ‘Jeez, thanks.’
‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. That’s not who I am. And it’s not who you are.’ She gives up the glare and smiles instead. ‘That’s why this all works so well.’
She’s right. We’ve both had relationships that should serve as cautionary tales. Problems only arise when one person gets out of step with the other—when expectations get built and then crushed. Sex—just sex—is best.
