I’m standing in my walk-in closet, staring at the green dress laid across the ottoman. It’s tight and short, the kind of thing I’d never wear to a charity function. It’s perfect for the casino.
This time, I’m not improvising in a parking lot with makeup and shaking hands. This time, I’m picking out my dress in advance and hopefully going to get good and well fucked tonight.
The dress clings as I put it on, and the neckline dips lower than I’d normally risk. I pair it with spiked black heels. My calves will hate me later. I don’t care.
Smoky eyes, dark red lips. The woman in the mirror looks like a stranger.
Last time I looked like this, I didn’t know what was about to happen.
Tonight I do.
“You look sinful.”
I turn. Robert’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, watching me with a possessive gleam.
“That’s the idea.” I reach for my clutch. It’s just big enough for my phone, cash, and the wedding ring I’ll take off before I walk into the casino.
“Come here.”
I cross to him. He pulls me close, one hand sliding into my hair, the other gripping my hip hard enough to remind me who I belong to.
“Have fun.” He kisses me—deep and claiming, the kind that wrecks my lipstick and makes me forget I’m supposed to leave. “Come back broke.”
I blink at him, then can’t help the delighted laugh that escapes. “You’re insane.”
His lips brush my ear. “Penniless and needy. That’s how I want you tonight.”
“Okay.” I laugh again and pull away. If I have my way, I’ll come back thoroughly fucked and anything but needy.
The Goldpoint Casino glows red and gold against the dark sky. Neon sign blinking JACKPOT JACKPOT JACKPOT.
I park and sit in the car. Count my heartbeats.
One... two... three...
Holy fuck. Am I really doing this again?
Twelve... thirteen... fourteen...
Last time I was here, I was reckless and craving a thrill I couldn’t name.
Twenty-two...
Tonight is different.
Tonight, I’m walking in with my eyes wide open.
When I count fifty, I grab my clutch and twist off my wedding ring. I haven’t even gotten into the casino yet and there are already so many numbers. Fifty heartbeats, three carats, fifteen years. At our wedding, I’m not sure whose hands shook more—Robert’s when he slipped it on, or mine when I felt the weight. They’re steady now.
As I tuck the ring into my clutch, my phone buzzes.
ROBERT:I’m already thinking about later. Tell me everything.
I smile as I type.
SHANNON:I will. I promise.
ROBERT:Go get what you want.
