Page 129 of The Americana Playbook

But when Parker tosses her head back and laughs, reaching out to touch Cam’s arm, the sight of my ring has me on the move. I refuse to be humiliated.

I cross the grass, weaving in and out of alum who stare, and make my way to Parker.

“Fitzy.” Camden smiles. “We were just talking about you.”

I take Parker’s left hand. “I need to borrow my wife for a moment.”

With her free hand, Parker grabs her purse and my jacket, nearly falling but catching herself against me. All eyes are on us as I drag Parker onto the path and walk down along the back of the brick schoolhouse. I’m stomping so fast I don’t even have a second to decide where I’m taking her before we make it to a door I anticipate being locked.

But Mrs. Ford, our freshman Math teacher, steps out. “The bathrooms in the science wing are open,” she says.

“Th-thank you,” Parker stutters as we blow past. She stumbles on the small step of the entry as she tries to put all her weight back to stop me.

“Watch your step, wife.”

“Fitz! What are you doing? Everyone was staring!”

She tries to twist her arm free from my grasp, but I hold her tighter as I bring her down the hall.

I scoff. “Oh,nowyou’re worried about optics. You didn’t seem so concerned thirty seconds ago when you somehow found the nerve to flirt with another man in front of yourhusband’sentire graduating class!”

“Flirt! You have no idea what you’re talking about. I was?—”

Parker quiets when I push open a classroom door at the end of the hall and drag her into a science lab.

With both of us inside, I slam the door shut. When I face her again, the look she gives me should be more than enough to calm down and apologize.

“I was not flirting with Cam, Fitz. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Sure as hell looked like it.”

Parker stamps her foot, clearly annoyed.

But there’s no way in hell she’s more frustrated with me than I am with her at the moment. I’m actually past the point of frustration. I’ve had enough of the lies, the secrets, the stonewalling.

“What do you meannowI’m concerned with how things look,” she repeats, her eyes flicking around the classroom.

“You are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” I begin, “you’re only worriednowbecause of what people might think about me dragging you down the hallway.”

Parker snorts. “Well, yeah. It doesn’t exactly do much for your Mr. Nice Guy image, that’s for sure. Orus,” she adds on. “We’re newlyweds.”

“You’re right,” I snap. “Act like one.”

“What’s your problem?”

I rip the name tag from her dress. Her hand immediately flies to the spot.

“Can you read?” I hold up the tag for her. “In case you forgot how to, let me sound it out for you. This”—I point—“saysRhodes.You shouldn’t even need it. You walked in that room holdingmyhand. You’re wearingmyring. Are those goddamn diamonds not big enough for you? Because if they’re too small to remind youyou’re married, that’s an easy solution. I’ll make a call and find a jeweler open right now and put a bigger rock on your finger so I’m impossible to forget.”

“You?” she asks. “Or the marriage.”

“What?”

“You saidso I’m impossible to forget, Fitz.”

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