She did say that then, and I didn’t believe her. I want to now, though—more than anything. It’s something I’ve not let myself think about, her with other men. Sure, we’re still legally married, but we haven’t been together for years. Even so, the thought is too much to wrap my head around.
“It was a job interview.”
Do people go to bars as part of job interviews these days? I know I’m not really in a conventional line of work, but even I know that sounds like a load of bullshit.
“I know it sounds strange, but the company was…courting me. They reached out to me, hoping to woo me into giving up my freelance status. They wanted to hire me as their new editor.”
I don’t miss her use of the past tense.
“Wanted to? What happened?”
She straightens her back, looking anywhere but at me. “Uh, it’s just not going to work out.”
“Why not?”
She doesn’t answer. Before I can think too much about it, I reach out to her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet my stare.
It takes her a moment, but she finally does, giving me my first close-up look at her brown eyes, which I used to love so much. She’s always hated them, said they were boring, but they’re far from it with a mix of light and dark brown, so deep it reminds me of the 70% cacao the team’s dietitian wants us to eat.
Turns out I still love them.
“Why not, Chloe?”
I feel her swallow. “Because that guy was an ass.”
My nostrils flare as anger courses through me. “What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
“What did he do?” I repeat, my words harsher this time.
“It’s no big deal. He was just, uh, a little inappropriate a few times. Looking down my dress, making comments about my weight. That’s all.”
I flex my free hand, the same urge from before, the one that said I needed to hit something, coursing through me. “What’s the company?”
She shakes her head, pulling out of my grasp, and I miss her softness instantly. “No, I’m not telling you because it doesn’t matter. I already turned them down and reported him. I’ve dealt with it.”
She tips her chin up, sounding so damn self-assured in a way I’ve never heard before, and I realize then that it’s not just her appearance that’s changed. It’s her. She’s not the same teary-eyed girl she was when she left for her internship. She’s more confident, stronger, sure of who she is. I don’t know this version of my wife, but I want to.
“All right,” I tell her, stuffing my hands into my pockets to keep from reaching for her again. I blow out a long breath. “So, you’re here for a job?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t get it?”
“No.”
“What happens next?”
She looks taken aback, like she hadn’t thought that far ahead, and it confirms every fear I had. Chloe isn’t back for me. She’s not here to repair our marriage. She’s here for herself, and that’s it. Seeing me was just an unfortunate happenstance, and if I hadn’t been at that bar last night, we might not have ever crossed paths. My wife doesn’t want me anymore, and I’m not sure how to reconcile that.
“I want to stay.”
I snap my gaze back to her. “What?”
“In Seattle,” she clarifies. “I, uh, I have a few other places I’m interested in working, so I’m not ready to leave just yet.”
Oh. It’s still all about a job.
