Page 8 of Push

“It won’t delete that photo.”

“No, it won’t… But… We could be reading too much into it. Maybe it’s just a dumb photo.”

The look I tossed her was dubious. She’d said that on the drive home, too.

And, yes, on its own, the photo wouldn’t mean much to someone else, but it was hard to switch off the doubt clawing at my chest. In my old line of work, we’d call a photo like that circumstantial evidence. Pieced together with how much time Toby and Kayleigh spent together, the only logical conclusion was that the doe-eyed sex kitten in the green dress was a lot more thanjusta dental assistant at his work.

“Gwen, I can hear your mind grinding from over here.” Marnie’s foot tapped against my shin to snap me out of my spiral. “I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.”

There sure was. “Toby hasn’t come home.”

“Yeah…”

“Or called.”

Marnie slumped into the mountain of pillows on the couch. She couldn’t argue with the facts. “But this isTobywe’re talking about. He’s gaga for you. This is the man who trained for having a newborn by carrying a bag of potatoes in a baby sling while he stacked the dishwasher.”

It was impossible to stop my lips from curving up. Marnie had only seen the end result. Toby had tested a lot of other stuffings in his sling before he’d decided the potatoes had the “right amount of wriggle” when he’d moved around. He was an absolute dork.

Marnie continued trying to convince me I was overthinking by saying, “And what about all the mornings he made you a bagel for your drive to work?”

“He hasn’t bothered cooking breakfast since Noah was born.”

“Okay…well… What about when he braved a storm to get you ice cream?”

I couldn’t bat that one away so easily. I’d been curled up in a ball of misery on day two of my period, and my knight in shining armor hadn’t even blinked before hopping in the car to make a dash for the convenience store.

“Gwen, I know this looks bad, but…it’sToby.”

“I know. But…what if…?” My sigh was so heavy that my chest caved in, and my shoulders slumped forward. Her trip down memory lane should’ve made me nostalgic and gooey, but my stomach churned like I’d skulled last week’s milk. “His parents weren’t happy, Mar.”

“You think Toby’s going to drag you through twenty years of shoving other women in your face? No way, Gwen.No way.”

“People change.”

I’d changed, too. Not into a woman like his mother, who’d blindly turned her cheek and ignored what was happening in her own bed, but someone I didn’t quite recognize yet.

What if Toby didn’t like the new me? I wasn’t the neglected nerd he’d fallen for at sixteen or even the woman on the cusp of becoming an accomplished lawyer he’d married at twenty-two. My career was in the toilet. Our sex life had gurgled down into the sewers with it. I loved being a mum and was trying my best to do everything perfectly, but I was learning on the fly, with only examples of the worst possible ways of raising children stored in my memories. Truthfully, I wasn’t sure if I liked the new me yet, either.

Marnie’s foot tapped against my shin again. “Everything’s going to be okay,” she added. “You’ll see.”

My eyes narrowed. I wasn’t buying this Ms. Marnie Positivity crap for another second. Where was the passion and the bawling I was used to? “Why are you acting so…”

“Calm?”

“Weird.”

“Can’t you see I’m channeling my inner Gwen?” Marnie closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her chest. “Gwen is patient. She collects all the evidence before she acts. She does sensible things like paying her insurance on time. She doesyoga.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“Gwen…is…zen.” Marnie hummed a soft “Om,”but a laugh bubbled over the top.“Namaste.”

“Enough. You’re freaking me out. I prefer your rage tears and ranting compared to whatever”—I waved a hand about in the space between us—“this is.”

“You want me to go full Marnie on your husband’s ass? Happy to, babe. Say the word, and I’ll get my wire cutter and hack his balls right off.” She cackled, but I wasn’t sure she was joking anymore. “And then you can use your super sleuthing skills to figure out where the hussy lives. After I’m done with him, I’ll toss in a freebie. Her face will be a Picasso by the time I’m finished.”

I laughed. “Now, that’s more like—”

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