Page 3 of Push

“Photos?” I popped Noah higher on my hip, my hand fumbling to drag my phone from my waistband. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Marnie shook her head. She wouldn’t, not about something like that.

I zipped through posts and photos at record speed. It didn’t take long to find what Marnie was talking about. Kayleigh’s housewarming was practically trending, but…

What’s Marnie so worried about?

Artsy photos of a balloon arch. A curated charcuterie arrangement as big as my dining table. Familiar faces from Toby’s work. Want to know who’s not fun to chat with at parties? Dentists. Every photo confirmed Kayleigh’s party was swarming with a bunch of personalities about as exciting as my awful teenage attempts at meatloaf.

I swiped to the next photo.

Shock cracked my chest open so wide I was sure my heart would splatter on the road with all the other broken junk from the accident.

Marnie hugged me close. “You’ve got this.” The reassuring squeeze came next.

Speechless, I could only nod. I blinked at the screen. The photo stayed the same.

Kayleigh was front and center, her dark hair coiffed in a classy updo, and her body squeezed into an emerald dress that left very little to the imagination. With one of her strappy silver heels kicked up, she kissed the cheek of the man grinning for the camera. The dimple in his opposite cheek was just visible through his neatly trimmed beard, and his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. His genuine smile. My gaze followed the line of his arm slung over her shoulders and then narrowed on the manicured fingernails she dug into his waist.

A crowd of boring dentists cheered on the kiss in the background.

Fun and games. What a hoot.

But I wasn’t laughing. I wasn’t sure I was even breathing anymore.

The man with the traitorous smile was my husband.

2

He Kissed a Girl

Toby

What time is it?

Hell, I’d been slumped against the white tiles for so long I wasn’t even sure whatyearit was anymore.

Groaning, I rubbed my temple. My head throbbed like I’d been hit with a brick instead of having a few drinks, but if that was the worst of it, I could handle it. Anything was better than when I’d first stumbled into the bathroom, the world spinning like a mess of socks in the washing machine.

A knock rapped on the bathroom door. “Toby?” A laugh edged Ian’s voice. “You alive?”

I grunted. “Barely.”

“Come on out, Sleeping Beauty. The party’s over.”

The best news I’d heard all night.

The old rugby injury to my knee creaked with the effort of dragging my ass off the floor. Thirty was young, I suppose, but I was too old to hide in my dental assistant’s bathroom. I was afamily man. A damn role model. I wasn’t the guy who prayed he wouldn’t hurl his guts up on the fluffy white bathmat. Usually, I was the one hauling that dipshit home.

I leaned over the basin, avoiding my reflection in the mirror surrounded by too many lights, and splashed cold water on my face.

Alive…sort of.

I drew in a slow breath, opened the door, and headed back into a world I wasn’t ready to face.

“There he is,” Ian said.

He pushed off the wall beside the bathroom. The sweater knotted over his shoulders and the flick of his dark hair to the side should’ve made him look uptight, but somehow, the preppy vibe worked for him. He looked as fresh as a daisy. Obviously, he was more seasoned at handling his liquor than I was.

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