He stormed into his bedroom and heard a distant howl—the cat. He’d forgotten to feed her fucking cat. Muttering a litany of curses under his breath, Nicholas rinsed the pants off in the bathroom sink and left them hanging over the edge of the counter to dry as he stormed down the hall to Jay’s room, where the cat was now clawing at the door. When he returned to the living room, now wearing sweatpants and nothing else, and his hands reeking faintly of whatever slaughterhouse floor sweepings went into the cat’s food, his mood was completely shot.
He threw open the window with a crack, letting in a gust of cold night air tinted with jasmine. That, and the faint and familiar tang of chlorine, soothed him somewhat. He sank onto the loveseat and glowered at the pool, thinking of Jay and what he had done to her in it.
It enraged him that she could leave so easily while everything inside him burned with such raging fury. The pain of it was a shallow echo of the mindless wrath he’d experienced shortly after his father’s death when he had swept through the house room by room and destroyed anything the old man had cherished or loved, propelled by the thought that he and his father had driven the only person in his life who had evermattered away forever.
That hadn’t helped, though, and he knew deep down that he would willingly endure her torture until his world imploded, because when she smiled at him with that shy approval, it felt like nothing in the universe could ever go wrong again.
His father’s ghostly laughter mocked him.
(She’s got you wrapped around her finger, boy)
He picked up his phone and looked at the photo for a beat, before tapping back to messages.
How’s the packing going?
She didn’t respond right away. When she did, he got a picture of some sealed cardboard boxes with her neat handwriting laddering up the sides.U-Haul came earlier. Had to meet the driver down at the end of the street because he got lost. He was nice, though.
Nicholas didn’t want to hear about how nice the U-Haul driver was. He imagined that any man greeted by a sweaty, glowing Jay would probably be very fucking nice indeed.
I hope you weren’t cleaning all day.
No, I had lunch with Lily. How was your day?
Nicholas bit back a bitter laugh.
How was his day? Fucking wonderful. He was going to have to Google “how to get come out of dress pants” and spend his evening scrubbing wine out of the white carpet so it didn’t stain, and if he got one more “urgent” work email after nine o’ clock, he really thought he might kill someone.
But please, Jay, tell me how nice that U-Haul driver was. Tell me how he tried very politely not to look at your perfect saintly tits.
He wondered, with a dispassionate sense of curiosity, if thiswas what madness felt like.
I had a lot of meetings and a business lunch with Arthur at that Afghan place I take you to. Then I had business drinks with a client. He invited us to dinner to meet his wife, by the way.
The client?she asked, and he thoughtbrat.
No, Jay. Arthur.
As a couple?
No.
She never let him take her anywhere unless it was completely proper. Six inches apart, no touching. There were middle school dance chaperones were more lenient than Jay. When she’d been wearing that barely-there dress at the gala, he’d positioned his hands on her body so carefully when they danced that she might as well have been made of brittle crystal.
And even then, she’d gotten angry and demanded to leave.
That would be nice. I like him and I’d love to meet his wife. Have you met her?
Once.I don’t think she likes me very much.
Do you think she’ll like me?
He could imagine the worry on her face. She’d always been a people pleaser.
Nobody in their right mind could meet you and not fall in love with you.
As they had chatted, the wine had gradually relaxed him—and so had she. He was enjoying their conversation, imagining her expressions and gestures so clearly that she might as well have been sitting in front of him. But as soon as he’d sent those words—those damning fucking words—his fingertips went cold.
Fuck, he thought again, sitting up so quickly that he nearlyupended his wine a second time.
