Page 1 of Beauty Of Her

Five Years Earlier…

“Where the fuck is that asshole?” My hand slammed down onto the marble countertops. I winced in pain, instantly regretting this decision, only fueling the anger simmering in my blood.

And who was that asshole? My fucking husband, Peter. Night after night, he had been working late. It sounded so cliché, but the real estate market had gotten busier recently, and he was a mortgage banker, so I guess it made sense?

Things hadn’t been great between us for two years. And the last six months? They outright sucked. We were like glorified roommates who didn’t lay a finger on each other, and yes, we spoke, but it was only about our seven-year-old twins. When Sara and Zoe entered a room, Peter’s face filled with light. And when those bright blue eyes shifted to me, they instantly flooded with darkness. What the fuck was going on here? It wasn’t like anything happened between us to trigger this shift. One day, Peter just…changed.

But tonight was supposed to be different. I had just gotten promoted at the ad agency to Vice President, and we were going to celebrate by Peter bringing in from our favorite Italian restaurant.

The girls were upstairs playing on their tablets, giving me ample time to curse out their dad to the air. Except, I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to live this way. I still loved Peter, but if anyone asked if I liked him this second?

No fucking way.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed on the counter, distracting me from my internal tirade. The caller ID read, "Peter." I waited for it to ring a second time before answering.

"Peter," I greeted coldly.

"Julia, I'm sorry," he began. His voice sounded strained, exhausted even, and perhaps... remorseful? "I lost track of time at work. I know, it's a lame excuse..."

My heart pounded in my chest as his words hung in the air. But then, there was silence. I could hear the faint sounds of city traffic over the line. It was clear he hadn't even left his office yet.

"So... you're not coming?" My voice wavered, betraying the multitude of emotions swirling within me: anger, sadness, frustration...doubt.

"I..." he started but trailed off. The pause seemed to last an eternity until he finally said, "No."

I swallowed hard. The silence hung between us again; this time, it was heavy with unsaid things and broken promises. On a normal night, I’d let this go. But I wasn’t in the mood to be easy on him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll feed the girls but wait for you to come home with our food.”

“But Julia. That can be like ninety minutes from now.” The exasperation ran thick in Peter’s stupid voice.

“That’s fine.” I flicked a crumb off the counter as a strange calm washed over me. Losing this argument was not an option. “I had a big lunch, so I’m not starving anyway. I’ll be more than happy to wait, honey.”

“Wait, what did you just call me?”

I laughed. “I’ll see you later.” I hadn’t called Peter, honey, in years. And that was when things were good between us. Before I pressed the red end button, Peter’s voice cut through the line.

“Joel is going to drive us home.”

My finger froze, and my stomach lurched. Whenever Peter brought up his best friend and co-worker Joel from the bank, my guts shifted. Something was off with that guy, and I felt he was rubbing off on Peter.

“Okay…” I forced the word from my mouth. “I guess I’ll see you both in a little.”

“I’m going to invite him to dinner.”

“Sure.” I sucked my bottom lip through my teeth.

“Is there a problem?” Peter’s clipped tone answered his question.

“Just come home.” I rolled my eyes and ended the call.

Two hours later.

The girls were asleep, and my stomach was on its way to eating the organs in my body. Leaning over the kitchen sink, my eyes were glued to the blackness on the opposite side of the window. The glossy streets teased me with every car that wasn’t Peter’s.

Motherfucker.

I haven’t cursed this much since going into labor with the twins.

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