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My stomach feels sick at that thought. “What if…”
The sickness gets worse. But I have to say it because if I brush it under the rug, it would only get worse.
“What if…he misses it so much he leaves us? Or cheats on us? Or resents us forever?”
Hunter’s head tilts to the side before he touches my arm. “He loves us, Isabel. He’s happy. He might miss the single life from time to time, but he can’t miss it so much that he would do something that would ruin what he has now.”
“We don't know that,” I argue. Then I take a deep breath to compose myself. “ItrustDrake. I’m not saying I don’t trust him. But what if…”
My voice trails.
“What if hedoesn’tcheat and resents us instead?” Hunter finishes my sentence for me.
“You have been thinking the same thing,” I say.
Slowly, he nods.
“Are we overthinking it? If we say something, are we going to risk ruining a great thing?”
“I don’t know, Red,” he whispers as he pulls me close and presses his lips to my forehead. “The best we can do is talk to him.”
“He’ll just deny it,” I reply with a shake of my head.
“So, what do you have in mind?” Hunter asks with a look of worry on his face.
Behind me, the bartender hands me my drink, and I pass him my credit card. When I turn back to Hunter, I just come right out with it.
“What if we just gave him a weekend off?”
His expression deepens. I can see the way his jaw clicks as he clenches it. “A weekend off?”
“I think they call it a hall pass,” I mumble softly so no one else can hear us.
“You want to let him fuck someone else? Without us?” Hunter isn’t as discreet as I am.
My eyes widen as I press my hand to his mouth. “Quiet.”
He tears my hand away. “What you’re suggesting is insane, Isabel.”
My head tilts to the side, and my mouth settles in a straight line. “You’re one to talk with your insane ideas, Hunter Scott. You’re the guy who asked his best friend to fuck his wife.”
“Yes. Someone Itrustedandloved. Not a complete fucking stranger.”
I lean toward him. “But we love and trust Drake. I trust that no matter what he does this weekend, he’ll be safe, and he’ll come back to us.”
His brow furrows as he looks away, his eyes casting toward Drake, who is now awake and being approached by the woman from the lounge chair. Hunter and I both watch with a sense of foreboding as she sits down next to him. He gives her a polite smile.
I can’t hear what they’re saying, but she’s wearing a wide grin and playing with her hair as she very clearly flirts with him. He’s not rude to her, but he’s definitely not as flirtatious as she is.
Once upon a time, he would have flirted his ass off with her. I can still remember the way he’d light up as soon as anyone showed interest.
Does he still light up?
Have we taken his spark?
I’m overthinking this. I know it.
When Drake turns to find Hunter and I watching him from the bar, he points and waves. The woman’s face falls, which means he’s obviously turning her down and explaining he’s here with us. I shouldn’t feel bad about that, but I do.
