I google the name Harrison Finch. I brace myself for a Facebook page featuring a picture of Harry with his arm around some beautiful woman. But nothing comes up. There’s no mention of Harrison Finch anywhere. It gives me hope. Some.
Camila pulls into a spot next to the dog park. I’ve got my phone gripped in my right hand and I’m afraid to look up. Because in my heart, I know what I’m going to see.
“Tess?” Camila says.
I raise my eyes. The dog park is a stone’s throw away from the car. All the people I saw at the park earlier have left. It’s empty.
But Harry was there earlier. I know it.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and leap out of the car. I sprint over to the gate enclosing the dog park. My fingers wrap around the cool metal wires, which dig into my skin. I stare into the empty space. Harry isn’t there.
Was he ever there?
I don’t know anymore.
Is Camila right? Is Harry really gone from my life? Has he already left the state? Is he married to another woman, his time with me a distant memory?
“Tess…”
I turn around. It wasn’t Camila who said my name this time. It was Graham. My husband, apparently. He’s standing in front of me, still wearing the expensive gray suit that fits him like a glove, holding Ziggy’s leash, the locks of his sand-colored hair tousled by the wind. He offers me a hopeful smile.
“Camila texted me to come here with Ziggy,” he explains.
Ziggy is straining at his leash. He licks my hand excitedly. I run my hand over his fur, and instantly, I feel better. Dogs are magical. I don’t know what I would’ve done today without him.
“I thought we could let Ziggy play in the dog park a bit,” he says. “I’ll let Camila go home early and we could spend some time here.”
I look over at Camila, who is watching us from the car. I wonder how many times in the last year Graham has driven home early to make sure I was okay. I wonder how many times I’ve freaked out at the supermarket.
I wonder how many text messages I’ve imagined from Harry.
“Tess?” Graham furrows his brow. “What do you say?”
I run my hand over Ziggy’s head. “Yes. That sounds nice.”
Chapter 13
Graham and I end up having a great afternoon at the dog park.
He brought a rubber ball for Ziggy. The two of us take turns throwing it, and Ziggy brings it back for us. Although it’s hard not to notice that my dog is not a fan of Graham. No matter which one of us throws the ball, he always brings it back to me.
“He doesn’t like men,” Graham explains.
I laugh. “Really? Why not?”
“Well,” he says thoughtfully, “I think he wants to be the only man in your life. I can’t blame him.”
Ziggy trots back to me with the now sopping wet ball. I toss it underhanded across the enclosed area. “Tell me something interesting about yourself,” I say to Graham.
“Hmm. Let’s see.” He taps his chin, and I’m pleased he has to think about it. Maybe this isn’t something I ask him every single day. “I’m ambidextrous. Is that interesting?”
“A little. What else?”
“Um… I can do a superb French accent.”
I raise my eyebrows at him. “Really?”
“Oui, mademoiselle. This iz the true.”
I allow myself to laugh at Graham’s truly terrible French accent. “Do you speak French?”
“No. Just English. I’m not cultured.”
“Me too. Just English.”
“I know.”
My smile slips. “Oh. Yeah, I guess you know most things about me.” Ziggy runs up to me and deposits the moist ball in my hand. I give it to Graham so he can have a turn throwing it. My fingers briefly brush against his, and I can’t tell if he notices. “What was our wedding like?”
His blue eyes grow distant. “It was nice. Not too big. We did it in a church, and your dad gave you away. Lucy was your maid of honor. The guests got a choice of lobster or steak at the reception.”
“Did we write our own vows or something cheesy like that?”
“No.” He laughs. He has a nice laugh that makes little lines crinkle around his eyes. I can see why I might have fallen in love with this man. “You were emphatic about that. No writing our own vows, no reading of poetry, nothing cheesy like that.”
“Did anybody object during the ceremony?”
He snorts. “You mean like Harry?”
I flinch. “Sorry. I just…”
He pushes his glasses at the bridge of his nose. “It’s okay, Tess. I get it. The last thing you remember is being engaged to Harry Finch. But you need to know… He wasn’t good to you. You had a good reason for breaking up with him.”
So I ended it. I’m the one who broke up with Harry. I want to ask Graham what happened, but it’s too weird. He’s my husband—we’ve been married for four whole years. I can’t ask him about my ex-boyfriend.
Even though I can’t stop thinking about him.
Ziggy returns the ball to me again, panting excitedly. I nearly throw it, but instead, I hold it out to Graham to take from me. He reaches for it, and once again, his fingers brush against mine. This time he definitely notices. His eyes lock with mine for a moment, then he looks away.
“Graham?” I say.
“Yes?”
“Do we ever have sex?”
He coughs into his hand. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked that. But I’m curious. We’ve been living like this for a year. I wake up most mornings not even knowing who he is, thinking I’m engaged to another man. It’s hard to imagine we’re making passionate love every night.
“Tess.” His cheeks turn pink. It’s very cute. “That’s… a complicated question.”
“I kind of think it’s a yes/no question.”
Graham tugs on his tie, loosening it a few notches. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I would never ask that of you.”
“But do we? I mean, sometimes?”
“Sometimes,” he says quietly. “On your better days. When you remember me.”
I want to ask him how often that happens, but from what Camila has told me, it seems pretty rare. I look at my husband in his expensive gray suit that enhances his muscular build. There’s nothing distasteful about him—most women would find him attractive. But I’ve never been the kind of person who did one-night stands. I can’t imagine making love to this man tonight.