I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss his mouth. “I’ll give you the next forty to fifty years to argue about it.”
Holding my breath for his response to my boldness, my heart cracks open wide when he smiles against my mouth. “Deal.”
Zach’s head pops up when we hear the sound of a car door closing, and then footsteps on the porch steps. He leans away, both of us peering into the living room when a knock sounds on the door.
Following him into the living room, I’m aware I’m naked except for an oversized T-shirt and a pair of knee socks, and he’s in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that are sitting indecently low on his hips. One swift tug and he’d be naked, too.
He opens the door and I get a glimpse of blond hair and a gold mini van in the driveway. Blue eyes the same shade as their daughters meet mine. Those eyes quickly take in my state of undress, as well as his.
Oh, shit.
“Brittanee? What are you doing here?” he asks, side stepping to block her view, but it’s too late.
“Nice, Zach.” Then, ignoring his question, she asks her own. “Where is Abigail?”
“Not here,” he growls, bracing one hand on the door frame and the other on the edge of the door. “You can’t just show up like this.”
“I can when my daughter texts me that she’s started her period, and that you had yournew girlfriendcome over and help her instead of calling me,” she snaps. “What the hell, Zach?”
I back away from the living room, into the kitchen and out of view.
“No, Brittanee, you can’t,” I hear Zach snap back, exasperation heavy in his tone. “And that’s not what this is.”
Well, shit. Okayyy. That’s good to know. My heart does this godawful nosedive into the lowest part of my stomach.
“You can’t just keep showing up here. All communication is supposed to go through the lawyers until this hearing is done, you know that. I’m trying to be civil through all this, dammit, but you’re not making it easy.” I hear him sigh heavily. “How did Abigail even get your number?”
Straining my ears, I hear his ex say, “I messaged her on Facebook.”
“What the fuck do you mean you messaged her on Facebook? Abigail doesn’t have a fucking Facebook account. She’s twelve!” Zach snarls, and my stomach twists. Oh god.
“Well, clearly you’re not paying close enough attention to our daughter and spending too much time shacked up with your new slut, because she certainlydoeshave a Facebook.Anda Snapchat,” the woman says, her tone harsh. After a beat of silence, she laughs, but it’s an ugly sound. “Oh, I’m sorry for interrupting your sleepover. So is this why the girls haven’t been home when I stop by? You’re shipping them off to someone else so you can get your dick wet?”
There’s a shuffling of feet and bodies, and then the door slams. Zach’s voice is muffled from through the door as he responds to her.
Anxiety and shame wash through me, despite knowing I haven’t done anything wrong.
Except… I am, aren’t I?
I’m sleeping with a married man.
And yes, I realize that they’re separated and have been for a long time. Their divorce is pending. The final hearing is just a few weeks away.
But… at the end of the day, he’s still married.
Also, she’s not wrong. The girls have been spending a lot of time at Lydia’s to give us alone time. Guilt eats up my insides, making my head spin and my ears ring. Fuck.
Oh God, am I ahomewrecker?
No, they separated long before I met him. Long before we ever slept together.
At least… that’s what he told me. What if the timeline he gave me isn’t what really happened? I don’t really know howlongthey’ve been separated. I just know what I’ve been told, what I’ve been led to guess about… Am I really this naïve? Blindly trusting this guy to be honest about the failure of his marriage? Aren’t I smarter than this?
Burying my face in my hands, I lean my hips against the counter and take long, deep breaths in. No. I refuse to believe that Zach lied about any of it. He didn’t. I would know in my gut if he was lying.
This is real. This is real.
Thisisreal.
