Page 54 of Six Month Wife
That’s the real betrayal. Hope.
So I shift gears. It’s easier for me to be mad. Anger doesn’t ache the same way. It doesn’t make me feel stupid for falling for a man who’s never once promised me anything real.
Tonight, I'll let him be the bad guy. I'll get over this. I'll clear my head of him, do some breathing exercises, take a bath, and wash all of this away.
It’s safer than admitting I already let him in.
I swipe a towel off the counter, then toss it right back.
I’ve got too many problems to be letting Parker and his charm derail me. My product line is hanging by a thread, and I need to focus on getting it off the ground.
I'll put my energy on these leads in LA that might stock my stuff. That’s what I should be thinking about. I need actionable things to focus on.
I started putting together a presentation I can do for anyone willing to at least talk to me.
Not Parker. Not his text messages. Not the way his voice is an octave higher when he FaceTimes with whoever that was on his phone.
A knock at the door jolts me out of my spiral.
I sit up, my stomach tightening. It’s late. Too late for neighbors or deliveries. There’s only one person it could be.
I cross the room, hesitating for a moment before pressing my ear to the door.
“Adair?” Parker’s voice is muffled but unmistakable. "I can hear you on the other side of the door."
I close my eyes, shaking my head. Of course it’s him.
“Can we talk?"
I lean against the door, letting my forehead rest against the cool wood. “We can talk like this,” I say, my voice louder than I intended.
There's no one watching, so we don't have to put on a show. This is safer for me.
“Through the door?” He chuckles softly. “Don’t you think that’s a little immature?”
“Immature? Coming from the guy who’s been blowing up my phone all day?” I shoot back, smirking despite myself.
“That’s called communication,” he says, his tone teasing. “Maybe you’ve heard of it.”
“Maybe I have. But it doesn’t mean I have to answer.”
There’s a pause, and then his voice gets serious. “Adair, come on. We do need to talk about this thing between us. Your reaction a little while ago...”
My heart stutters. “Thisthing? It’s called a marriage, Parker. Six months. Are you not capable of six months?”
“I am,” he says, softer now. “Can I come in?”
I sigh, grabbing the doorknob. I don’t want to do this, but I also can’t ignore the sincerity in his voice. After a moment, I unlock the door and pull it open.
Plus, fuck me sideways. We are married, so I can’t escape him. Not for a while. Until we get a very real divorce.
Parker stands there, his hands stuffed into his pockets, looking every bit as tired as I feel.
“Fine,” I say, stepping aside. “Come in.”
He walks past me into the condo, his presence filling the space immediately. I close the door and follow him to the kitchen, where he leans against the counter, his eyes on me.
“Funny,” he says, scanning the space. “I remembered it smaller. Maybe because that night, all I saw was you.”
