And Jensen?—
Jensen’s smile looks exactly like it did the first time I saw him. Deep dimples. Straight white teeth. The kind of smile that could melt hearts. And right now, it’s melting mine.
He looks good.
He looks really fucking good.
Tears prick my eyes, and I bite my bottom lip.He’s still in Switzerland? With Matt?
I knew he was there, but still—Switzerland’s always been on my list.
A million thoughts slam into my head at once. Is he clean? Did rehab work?
He looks clean. God, he looks so good.
I filed for divorce a few weeks after I left Jensen, but by the time the papers were ready to be served, he’d already left the country.
Matt’s kept me in the loop. He told me Jensen really spiraled after I left—hit rock bottom, came to him for help. He left for Switzerland shortly after and checked into some high-end rehab.
Which is great. It really is. But it’s delayed the divorce, and me trying to move on. And now he’s out there vacationing with Matt like nothing ever happened, while I’m over here drinking just to laugh.
I press my thumb and forefinger to the screen, zooming in. I focus on Jensen—on his smile, his dimples, his eyes. They’re clear as day. And he looks… happy.
A pang hits me right in the gut. It feels like envy, but that doesn’t make any sense. Then I glance down at the fresh martini the waitress just dropped off. The one I’m drinking to forget how miserable I am. Or maybe just to forgethim. Either way...
Jealousy creeps in, quiet and sharp, like a thief in the night.
I guess the martini’s not doing its job, because here I am, still thinking about him.
And why?
He’s clearly fine. In Switzerland. Having fun. Smiling. Clean. Happy.
That’s what wrecks me. It’s not that I don’t want him to be clean, of course I do. It’s that he waited until after I left. That he couldn’t get clean forme.
That hurts like hell.
For two years, all I wanted was for him to get to this place, to be okay, to be sober.
And now that he is, it feels like a knife in the back.
I close out of the app and dab at the corner of my eye, catching the tear before it falls.
Suddenly, I’m no longer in the mood to be here, or to drink. I just want to go home. Be alone. Wallow.
Leo says that’s not healthy.
“Hey.” An elbow nudges my arm, pulling me out of the spiral. “You okay?” Cooper asks, her voice soft and full of concern as she studies me.
I take a deep breath, pull up the picture again, and slide my phone over to her.
“Look how good he looks,” I say quietly.
“Let me see,” Vivian says, and Cooper slides the phone across the table after taking a look.
They both fall silent as she studies it. Then, she offers a small smile and slides the phone back to me. “Ah, shit. He does look good, Al. I’m sorry. That’s gotta be hard.”
“Yeah. It is,” I whisper.
