Vanessa tilted her head, caught slightly off guard. “I’m sorry?”
“The divorce papers,” he clarified. “Jules and I have been separated for almost a year.”
Vanessa’s lips curled into that insufferable smirk of hers.
“Oh, of course. That will make a difference.” I barely heard her. My focus was locked on the man standing in front of me.
George.
He was tall, about my height, and I hated that I couldn’t say anything bad about him, other than his fashion choices. He wasn’t terrible-looking—not at all. Of course, he wasn’t. Jules wasJules. Gorgeous, smart, funny. Of course, she would’ve married someone…nice. That made me angry. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to avoid this guy forever if I wanted to be part of Jules and the kids’ lives. But right now I wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, for a little while longer.
I wanted to play house with my wife.Mywife.
Because that’s what Jules was supposed to be. She was meant to bemine.
Jules, trying to manage the tension between us, said softly, “Hey. What are you doing here?”
George’s eyes flicked to me, scanning the rumpled state of my clothes, and I knew he’d clocked that I’d spent the night. His reply came laced with subtle tension.
“Your phone is going straight to voicemail. I was… worried.”
I could see I made him uncomfortable. Good.
“Oh, I think I forgot to recharge it. I’m sorry,” Jules said, soft and careful. She was trying to keep things from escalating.
“Can we talk?” he asked, doing his best to pretend Vanessa and I weren’t standing right there.
“Of course, come on in,” Jules said quickly, taking his arm and guiding him inside. She didn’t look at Vanessa or me again, and that… that made my blood boil.
“You should go,” I said firmly to Vanessa.
She opened her mouth, her eyebrows raising like she was about to argue.
“I’m not?—”
“Now,” I cut her off, my voice sharp enough to make it clear I wasn’t playing around. Her mouth snapped shut, she looked pissed, but she didn’t say another word. I closed the door firmly behind her.
Turning back, I saw Jules and George walking toward the kitchen. My jaw tightened as I noticed his hand resting on her waist. It was nothing, probably something he’d done a hundred times during their marriage, but it stirred something primal in me. I wanted to rip that hand off her.
I took a deep breath. I needed to calm down. I had no right to act territorially right now; they had history, and we were standing in a complicated situation. But there was no way in hell I was going to leave them alone in that kitchen.
As I approached the room, their voices became clearer.
“So… how are you?” Jules said.
George’s response had a sharp edge to it.
“Not as good as you, obviously.”
Dick.
“George…” she started, but then he pulled out his phone, and I caught a glimpse of the screen. It had to be one of those viral photos—me, Jules, and the kids.
“Apparently, it’s all over the internet,” he said, clearly frustrated.
“I can explain…” she began, but he cut her off, not even giving her the space to try.
“You didn’t want us to post photos of the kids on our own social media, but it’s okay to have their faces all over the tabloids?”
