An hour later they were on the sofa in the living room, dirty plates on the coffee table and soft music coming through hidden speakers in the ceiling. It wasn’t lost on her that his wife was the one who had designed the seamless sound system. Designed the whole room, in fact. It felt subversive and exciting to be enjoying Jo’spet projectwith her husband.
Tori drank from her third beer. She was feeling it, and the conversation had started to get real.
“I thought he would change once we were married. Stop staying late at the office, be more attentive, kinder,” Tori said. “And then again when I was pregnant, and again when I gave birth. I kept thinking the next life stage would change him, make him a family man, but it never did. He just got worse.”
“Funny. I have a similar but opposite experience, if that makes sense.” He put his beer bottle down and leaned back. “I’ve been married more than twenty years, but sometimes I don’t recognize my wife at all. You say your husband never changed. Well, my wife changed dramatically. We used to have a more simple life. But money changes people.” He paused and looked down. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? I told you about my ex. Sometimes you need someone to talk to.”Tell me more, she wanted to yell. How had Jo changed? She was dying to know. It was impossible to imagine her landlady as anything other than the wax figurine of a power wife she was now. “It can get lonely in the suburbs.”
“You’re really easy to talk to, you know. I haven’t done this in a long time, just sit and talk. Listen to music. This reminds me of being young. I miss that feeling. Do you know what I mean?”
She nodded. “I do, like you’re at the beginning of your life and anything could happen.”
“Exactly.” He sat up, as if just remembering something. “I apologize. I shouldn’t—”
“Don’t. You don’t need to apologize for anything. You can say anything to me, and I won’t judge.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I better get going.” But he didn’t.
“I think you’re amazing. Warm and smart and kind and really handy around the house.” She knew men liked to hear words like this, and they came tumbling out from somewhere deep and unconscious.
He cocked his head and looked at her.
Tori touched the edge of his T-shirt sleeve. “And very sexy.”
His dark brown eyes held her gaze for a moment, and she could even see through the fog of alcohol that they were teetering on the precipice of something. The little monsters in her head screamed,Do it, do it!The desire she saw in his eyes intoxicated her, flooding her senses. She wanted to be washed away by what was in those eyes.
Tori leaned in to kiss him, and her lips met with his. Leaning into the kiss, she let her hand rest on his thigh, giving it a light squeeze. As soon as she did, he yanked his head back.
“What are you doing?”
Baffled, Tori let out a nervous laugh. But there was no mistaking the look on his face—it was one of revulsion. He stood up abruptly.
“I better go.” He grabbed his phone off the table.
“Are you angry?” Tori stood as well. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought…”
“Angry? No.” His eyes danced around the room, unable to meet hers. “You misunderstood. I said yes to dinner because you seemed so lonely, so sad. I felt sorry for you.”
His words were like a smack to her chest, making her breath catch. “You felt sorry for me?”
“You couldn’t possibly have thought…” A small smile played on his lips. He brushed imaginary dust off his pants. “A man like me? With someone like you? C’mon.” He let out a light laugh. “Ridiculous.”
As soon as she heard the door shut, Tori collapsed onto the sofa, her whole body trembling, in shock. Had she imagined their chemistry? Or was it some kind of sick joke on his part? The change had been so abrupt, the transformation so complete, that she was reeling. She sat frozen, her chest aching, like when she held her breath too long underwater. If she opened her mouth to breathe, she was sure she would die. If she just stayed still, maybe the tsunami of shame would pass by. She pictured Daniel recounting this story to Jo, to his friends. A funny little anecdote, with her cast as the desperate, lonely divorcée who tried to seduce him. How they would all laugh. How amusing they would find it. The monsters in her head chatted away.You’ll be the laughingstock of Eastbrook, a running joke.
She held her hands to her ears to block out the noise.
No. She wasn’t going to be anyone’s punch line. If only there was a way to hit first.
TWELVE
“You been staying off screens?” Kenya places a wicker basket of berries, chocolates, and nuts wrapped in cellophane on my kitchen counter. “This is for snacking. I got your favorites, chocolate-covered orange slices and honey-roasted pistachios.”
“You’re sweet,” I say. Kenyaissweet. Sometimes I forget that behind her hard-charging façade is a fiercely loyal friend. She so seldom lets her vulnerable side show.
“When Noah had a concussion, he was not allowed on any screens.”
I frown. “I don’t remember Noah having a concussion.” I texted Kenya as soon as I saw the email about the bracelet, and she showed up twenty minutes later, basket in tow. It must have been waiting by her front door, unless she kept a closet full of them for cases just like this.
