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“Shit.” I glanced around the parking lot, as though the culprit might be lurking nearby.
A shiver ran up the back of my neck. Were we being watched?
“Do you have triple A?”
“Sure, but who would fucking do this?” He started looking around at other cars near ours, and I checked my own tires. They were fine.
“Only mine are slashed. What the fuck?”
“Have you been hooking up with married women?” I joked. Having his tires slashed sucked, but he could easily afford new ones. “Maybe you have a jealous husband stalking you.”
“I’m not into that kind of drama. Divorced women, sure. Last week, I even nailed a girl who still lives with her parents.” He snorted. “Fuckingawkward.” He fished out his phone and sighed. “I guess I’ll be dealing with this instead of hitting Maurice’s tonight.”
“Maybe you’re dodging a bullet. Fate could be trying to save you from a homicidally jealous ex-husband.”
“True.” He dialed a number and waved me off. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”
I was glad he felt that way, because it hadn’t occurred to me to stay to keep him company.
Maybe I really was an asshole.
Chapter Twenty-Five: Valor
My linguine was still frozen in the middle. I poked at it with my fork, wondering if it was worth the effort to throw it back in the microwave, or if I could power through the parts still frosted with ice. I was hungry and tired, and the idea of getting up from the kitchen chair to throw it back in the microwave and then wait around for another few minutes was unbearable.
Once upon a time, I would practically race home from work and a hot meal would be waiting for me as soon as I was ready for it, along with a hot wife who adored me. Tarryn had attended to every need I’d had. She’d made my life easy, to the point where I could focus almost exclusively on work, and on her when I had extra time. Back then, I’d taken her for granted. Although I’d always known I loved and valued her, I hadn’t realized how easy she’d made my life until I’d left her behind in Prague to pursue her own ambitions.
I’d had no idea how much work it was to remember what groceries I needed to order, to keep track of appointments and bills, and to makemeals that would keep me fed and not put me in immediate danger of getting scurvy. Meanwhile, her life was probably either completely the same as before, or a little bit easier without me to take care of.
In the old days, I’d been happy with our arrangement, but obviously she hadn’t been. She’d always wanted a career, but I’d selfishly hoped she would give up on the idea. I’d taken her happiness for granted—who wouldn’t be happy? We weren’t poor anymore. We had nice things. I’d doted on her when I wasn’t busy.
Maybe if I’d thought of her instead of being so determined to climb the ladder, she’d still be with me. If I had agreed to her requests—her pleas—for a baby, she probably would have come with me to California. At the time, I’d felt too young to be a father. Too busy. I hadn’t wanted to take my attention away from work anymore than I already did.
Sure, we’d stopped using protection for almost a year, but when it didn’t happen the easy way, I’d thrown up more road blocks. It had all seemed so invasive, so time consuming.
She’d given up on her multi-year campaign to convince me a baby wouldn’t ruin our life and seriously pursued her career instead. Now, there was nothing tying her to me except history, a ring, and a piece of paper. Hopefully, she still loved me.
Morosely, I ate the warmish edges of my meal then threw the rest in the trash.
Yes, my career was going well, but I’d neglected my wife, and now maybe I had lost her. It wasn’t all because of Loïc. It was my own selfishness and immaturity that had led us to where we were now. If Loïc lured her away from me permanently, I couldn’t even be angry about it. She deserved to be happy—deserved to have someone in her life who put her needs first.
I picked up the novel I’d been halfheartedly trying to read the day before, and got into bed to lose myself in it. The words refused to become pictures in my head and take me away from my glum over-thinking.
At some point, I realized I was reading the same line over and over without it making any sense. I stretched, trying to get more comfortable in bed, thinking about sleep. I rested my open novel on my face, feeling ridiculous, but there was no one around to see, let alone care.
My phone rang, scaring the crap out of me.
Who the hell would that be? It was midnight for me, which meant it was nine in the morning, Tarryn’s time, but she had a full day scheduled, so I doubted it was her.
Private number.
At this time of night, it wasn’t going to be a telemarketer. I swiped to answer.
“Hello?” My voice sounded rusty. The call had woken me out of my reflective brain fog.
“Are you ever so jealous that you’re worried about your sanity?”
I frowned at the ceiling.
