“Connor asked me on a date.”
He waved his hand in the air. “Bring him too, then. We’re supporting your mom’s new recipe, so your butt needs to be here.”
“Why do I feel fourteen again?”
“Because you’re always gonna be our baby, even if you’re thirtysomething.” He pushed off the counter and kissed the top of my head. “Gotta run to the store for a bit. Can’t afford much help now, so it’s gonna be me. Be home by five, sharp.”
“Yes, Father.”
His chat put me in a better mood, giving me something positive to think about on my drive to meet Petra. I loved how much my parents loved each other. Lying about liking a food for that many years… It was weirdly cute. I wasn’t sure about Connor’s evening plans, but I texted him the update.
Laney:Hey, my dad insisted I be home to try my mom’s new recipe tonight. Can we eat with my parents then do the date?
Connor:100%.
Laney:Cool, thank you.
Connor:I love your parents. Thank you for inviting me.
Frowning, I was suddenly hit by the realization that I hadn’t really invited him over to spend time with my family the last week or so. I’d kept us dating separately, and that wasn’t right. My parents were a huge part of me, and yeah, having Connor join us for dinner was another great next step.
Now I just had to survive this coffee date.
I pushed open the doors to the hotel, immediately inhaling the mixture of pastries, coffee beans, pine trees, and woodfrom a fire. The onslaught of smells had me pause. They were so strong. Wow, it smelled like the holidays.
“Laney, good morning.” Petra wore black slacks and a white turtleneck. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and she wore very little makeup. She was a striking woman, and today was no different. “Thank you for meeting me here.”
“How are you liking the hotel so far? Barb’s family has owned it forever.”
She shrugged, a very not-Petra gesture. “It’s fine. Pleasant. Everyone is so damn nice.”
Smiling, I motioned toward the coffee shop. “Yeah, that’s Cherrywood for ya. Did you enjoy the pizza place?”
She didn’t answer right away, but a light dusting of blush covered her cheeks. “I did, yes.”
That blush was very curious, but I ignored it and focused on the conversation. I was the queen of pretending things were chill while my insides went to war. That was now. “Good, glad you enjoyed it.”
We quickly ordered, and our drinks were brought to our small table in the corner. Every table had an ornament hanging from a hook on it. Each ornament had been decorated by a student. Ours was a snowman, but a futuristic one with six lumps and metal teeth. Melody Haines—grade five.
“Now that we have our coffee, there are things I’d like to discuss with you.” Petra sat straight and placed her palms on the table.
She reminded me of my husband. All business. Hard to crack. Focused. Too intense. Even now, she stood out like a sore thumb in this happy, cozy place.
I sipped my chai latte and waited.
Petra blinked a few times, her mouth opening and closing before she slunk into her chair, her expression crumbling. “I don’t know how to start. I had this whole speech planned, apologizing, probably too many times, but I’m blank. There is nothing.”
My gut churned. This was the woman who had replaced me in some ways. I hated the termwork wife, but she kinda was. She spent all this time with Connor at work, more hours with him a week than I did. She canceled our dinners, made reservations, knew our life. My hand shook around the warm mug, and I slowly exhaled. It was clear she was rattled, and that this mattered to her.
It took a lot of gumption to reach out to me when she must know what was going on in my marriage. Yet I remained quiet. I didn’t owe her a thing, and while I did genuinely like her, I didn’t have to make it easier on her.
“Look, I want to say sorry to your face.” She pressed her lips together, her icy expression softening. “And tell you that… God, this is hard. There has never been, and will never be, anything—” Her voice cracked. “Between Connor and me.”
A flash of anger went through me when I realized that Connor freaking told her about my insecurities. An image of the two of them talking, Connor explaining that yeah,My wife thinks we cheated, and Petra being likehaha, no way. But the second I had the thought, I brushed it away. No, that was not what happened.
“I know,” I said calmly. “I’m not sure why you’re telling me this. I don’t know how this came up, but I know there is nothing.”
The determined look returned to Petra’s face, and she leaned forward. “I assure you, Connor refused to share anythingpersonal with me. I asked, and he said no. This is part of what I want to explain, to apologize for. It’s been brutal handling the divorce, and focusing on work, ignoring everything else, became my obsession. It became my life. Because of that, I stopped caring about things that matter.” She took a shaky breath and met my eyes head-on. “I want nothing but happiness for Connor, and you, and I forgot. If something got in the way of my mission, then it didn’t matter. Lunches with you? No. Dinners? Not if we had to have a meeting. He’d push and say he’d have to leave early, but then I’d pack on so many things, that he’d forget or couldn’t.”
