There was no joy in the service I provided to her, today.
I can’t help the movement of my eyes as she pushes open the door to the parking lot. They want his motorcycle to be outthere. My keys practically burn a hole in the pocket of my jeans, waiting for me to use them again.
“What’cha looking for?” Aislin coos over my shoulder.
“Nothing,” I say with a shake of my head. “Just seeing how busy the lot is.”
She snorts a loud laugh as she reaches past me to open her schedule on the computer in front of us.
“You’re not as sneaky as you think you are, you know,” she says. My heart lurches in my chest. “Motorcycle in the parking lot, lunch in your car. I’m just glad you two are working things out.”
You two…?
Oh.
“Busted,” I chuckle awkwardly.
“I think it’s cute,” she says, bumping her elbow against my arm. “Keep that spark alive, babe.”
The spark is alive, alright, just not the one that should be.
She’s my best friend, and not being able to tell her what’s happening in my life should be a loud enough message that it shouldn’t be happening. A neon sign, reading ‘exit here.’
But I think about the picture that I sent Connor from the bathtub last night, and the video that he sent me in response of himself masturbating to it; and the only thing I can think is that I want him to come back.
I’m worried that this is quickly evolving into something so much bigger and so much more dangerous than whatever it was that first time in Aislin’s bathroom. I worry because it isn’t just my body that is involved in this, anymore.
I have to stop this before it’s a worse, more world-destroying monster than the one that it’s already become.
Pulling the salon phone from its base, I put the receiver to my ear and punch out an outgoing number, waiting for the line to trill before my husband’s voice comes through.
“What’s up, this is T-Mo,” he answers.
I guess he still doesn’t have the salon number saved to his phone.
“Hi Lovey, it’s me,” I tell him. “I wanted to see when you’re leaving tonight. I was thinking, maybe if we had time to go out and grab a quick dinner…?”
“Yeah,” he says. I hate how surprised he sounds. “I’ll be home before seven. We can hit that Korean place you like.”
The Korean place that I like.
The one he found on a whim when we first moved here, because I said that I was in the mood for something spicy and filling, but not too heavy. He justknew. That night, we shared a hot pot and some of the best pork dumplings I’ve ever had, and we spent hours talking and laughing with each other like it was our first date.
He’s taken me back there a few times for birthdays or for big wins with my salon. It’s become a really special place for me; I shouldn’t be surprised that he knows that.
Tripp has always known everything about me.
“That sounds great,” I tell him with a smile on my face, in spite of the painful choking feeling lodging itself in my throat. “I love you.”
“Love you, too, baby,” he says. “See you soon.”
This might be overkill, I tell myself as I secure a bow at the front of my off-shoulder blouse.
I can’t remember the last time that Tripp and I had a proper date night. Every time we’ve actually gone out somewhere to eat since things soured between us, it’s been with his brother; or with his brother, his girlfriend, and their daughter.
It hasn’t been just us in what feels like forever, so tonight, I’m giving myself permission to be a little over the top about it.
After curling my hair, I tie a silky white bow into it to to match my top, securing the top section of my hair at the back of my head. I don’t use it often because it’s kind of a luxury item, but I throw an extra spritz of Tripp’s favorite perfume into my hair.
