“Maria hasn’t loved me in a long time.”
She cocks her head to the side, a familiar look of challenge narrowing her eyes. “That’s not how it looked to me.”
I brace my palms on either side of her thighs and dip my head to capture all of her attention. We might not be able to do the things we want, but I’m sure as shit not letting Billie run away with the thought that a reconciliation with my ex-wife is even remotely in the cards.
“Maria doesn’t want me, and I don’t want Maria anymore. The difference is, she doesn’t want me to be with anyone else. Call it a need to control or an insane level of jealousy. Call it whatever you want.”
“But—”
“But nothing, Billie,” I cut her off, working to keep my voice firm but kind. “The truth is that Maria and I had been off and on for a long time, even if we kept a lot of our marital troubles out of public view. Crazy arguments led to multiple temporary separations, and by the time we finally called it quits, I had been sleeping in our spare room for months. I wanted out of the marriage because it was toxic, she clung on to what we’d had when we first met and were very different people.”
I’m desperate for her to believe me, so I keep talking.
“I don’t want Maria anymore.” I stop short of what I was going to tag on, finishing my sentence internally and hoping that she can read between our very blurred lines.
I want you. In my bed. Wrapped around me until sunlight creeps through the blinds.
“Do you want to get back with Tucker?”
“No!” She looks almost disgusted at the thought.
Sliding my hand along the counter, I place it over hers.
I can’t stop touching this girl.
“And what if he came back into your life? What then?”
As a friend, I’d be asking her that question out of concern, worried that she’d take him back for the benefit of her daughter when plenty of good people co-parent. And while I’m still asking her that question for all of the above reasons, a selfish part of me has to know the truth about her feelings. Because the thought of Billie climbing into anyone’s bed other than my own makes me want to pour gasoline on this entire apartment block, light a match, and watch it burn into nothing but ash.
She worries her lip for a moment, eyes moving toward my hallway, no doubt thinking about what’s best for Blake.
I give her this moment to process thoughts.
“Tucker returning to try and make amends would never happen.” She finally responds with an answer I didn’t exactly want to hear. What I wanted was the same hard no I’d received a few minutes earlier.
In so many ways, her reconsideration is a testament to how devoted she is as a mom—putting Blake’s needs before her own.
Still, I can’t help the next few words as they tumble from my lips.
“He isn’t good enough for you.”
Billie nods, but I’m not totally convinced she believes it, and that breaks my heart in fucking two. I might not be able to call her my own, but I’ll be goddamned if the man she eventually finds isn’t absolute perfection for her. He’ll have to be to get past Scott, but also to earn my acceptance after I’ve emptied the contents of my stomach in private.
I don’t know how long passes between us, dinner no further along than when I replied to Scott.
“You know what really sucks?” she asks as I head for the fridge, pulling out the same brand of wine I bought for her in Italy.
Her eyes light up. “Gimme!”
Pouring her a glass, I hand it over and resume my previous position at the counter, watching her sip wine like some kind of fucking loser.
“What sucks?”
She swallows another sip and sets the glass down beside her.
“That we can’t find more ways to spend time together without it being obvious.”
Picking up her glass, I take a sip myself. I don’t drink a lot, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see how she would react to me drinking from the same glass.
