Page 30 of The Wife Situation

“The truth,” she whispers.

“I think you’re confident, good at masking your emotions, gorgeous, but also insecure. I want to figure out why.”

She swallows hard, studying me as she licks her lips.

I’m right though. I know I am, and so does she.

“I just wish you could see what I see. That’s all.” I take a sip of my whiskey.

“What do you see?” she asks.

“Someone who has the ability to make all of their dreams come true.”

Her breath hitches. “You mean that?”

“Raw truths, Alexis. Now, it’s your turn.”

She twirls the ice in her glass before finishing her drink. “Truth or lie?”

“I’m curious about the lie, but I want the truth.Always.”

She studies me. “Hmm. I see a man searching for something that money can’t buy.”

“And what would that be?”

“If I had to guess … companionship.Love.” We fall into silence for a few seconds. “But … I don’t believe love exists. So you could be wasting your time searching for it.”

I wait for the punchline, but one doesn’t come. “You’re serious.”

“Dead serious.” She nods.

“I’m shocked.” I regroup my thoughts.

She reaches over and lightly pinches me. “Hi. I’m the anti-love, hopeless romantic. It’sverynice to meet you.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, noticing her mood shift.

The mask she wears when placed in an uncomfortable situation makes an appearance. She’s a professional at blocking her emotions, but I see it in her eyes. There’s no fooling me.

“No need to apologize.” She covers her pain flawlessly.

“If you stopped believing in love, someone in a past relationship hurt you, and that shouldn’t have happened. It’s okay to have feelings about that.”

She doesn’t confirm, but she doesn’t have to. I see right through her.

“So, what about you? What’s your deal? You obviously have one.”

Her arm brushes against mine, and I can smell the strawberry scent of her shampoo. I try to think back to the women I thought might’ve been the one, but weren’t.

“I’ve never met anyone who’s kept my interest for over two weeks,” I say with a single sigh.

Her face scrunches. “Ever?”

“It’s been nearly two decades. I grow bored easily, and it’s a turnoff when people try too hard. I want something more than the superficial shit. Otherwise, I’d have had a thousand relationships, and none would’ve counted. So, after fourteen days, if I’m not interested, I end it. I’ve been waiting around for the right woman. Haven’t found her yet.”

“Does she exist?” she asks with a smirk.

“Probably not,” I tell her, glancing at my watch.

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