“Want me to massage you?” I raised an eyebrow and bit my lower lip. I was trying . . . trying to seduce my husband, just to make sure there was nothing wrong with us or me. But deep down, I knew there was.
“No, babe. That’s all right. But I am hungry though,” he said, walking toward the hallway.
“Sure. I’ll make dinner.”
As he left the room, I noticed red marks on the back of his calves and neck. Poor guy. He worked too hard at the office and at the gym, and I’m sure those commutes from Atlanta to Miami and back every week were taking a toll on him. I made a mental note to urge him to take a vacation. After this recent closing, I could get away. I had more than earned it. He, Riley, and I could go someplace nice for a week or two, just the three of us.
Before pulling out the ingredients for an avocado-and-chicken salad, I poured myself a glass of red wine from a previously opened bottle. I took a long, slow sip, and as the red liquid made its way inside me, I thought of the last time Mark was also inside me—over six months ago. It was after a dinner party. We had the house to ourselves, and we were both rather intoxicated. As soon as we entered the house, he pushed me against the wall, wrapping my legs around his waist before thrusting into me. We tore into each other. It was intimate yet animalistic. I wanted him and he wanted me. These days, I’m not sure what either of us wants. I set the wineglass down and tossed the chicken breasts into a frying pan. I’m not the woman I was when he married me, and I’m not the woman I was even six months ago. I no longer know who I am, because sometimes we become strangers to even ourselves.
11
Shannon
I took a seat at a high-top table and ordered two vodka martinis from the server. I had asked Karen to meet me for a drink to discuss what had happened yesterday at the salon and to get her take on the whole thing. She was the one person I could count on to be honest with me. And while part of me wanted her honesty, that didn’t necessarily mean I was going to listen to any of it. I was dead set on winning Bryce back, and not even Karen or her pragmatism could stop me.
“Hey, hon,” Karen said as she set her tote down and pulled me in for a hug, squeezing me a little tighter than usual. She took a seat across from me and gave me a wide smile. She was definitely hiding something behind her perfect veneer.
“I ordered you a vodka martini,” I said just as the server placed one in front of both of us.
“Perfect. Thank you.” Karen brought the glass to her lips and took a small sip. “Now, what happened at the salon yesterday?”
“How did you know something happened?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Olivia.”
“Of course.” I rolled my eyes. “Well, I was pretty drunk, so my recollection of events is blurry at best, but all I know is that Olivia is a bitch.”
Karen laughed. “She said you were being rude to Crystal, and she was just defending her.”
“We all know Olivia doesn’t defend anyone but herself.”
She nodded.
“But was I being rude to the woman who stole my husband? Abso-fucking-lutely. And she deserved it.” I raised my chin.
Karen let out a sigh. “Can you really be mad at her? Bryce is the one that did this to you.”
“I still love Bryce,” I confessed.
Karen shook her head. “No, you don’t.”
“I do, and he loves me too.” I took a long sip of my martini.
“No, you don’t, and he definitely does not love you. If he loved you, he wouldn’t have done what he did. That’s not love.” She pressed her lips firmly together to make her point.
I resituated myself in my seat and sat up a little taller. “He’s just confused.”
“No, he’s just an asshole,” Karen quipped. She reached out and grabbed my hand, looking directly into my eyes. “And you can do so much better.”
I stared at her hand, deciding if I wanted to push it away or not. The weight of it felt right though. Like a small security blanket that I didn’t know I needed. “But I don’t want to do better. I want Bryce.” My bottom lip quivered.
Karen rubbed my hand. “That’s a temporary feeling, I’m sure. He’s not a good man, and to be honest, I have never liked Bryce.”
My mouth fell open. “Really? Never?”
“Never.”
My eyes darted around the room. How could she never have liked my husband without me knowing? All the dinner dates, events, and even vacations we’ve all taken together over the past decade . . . Karen sure can act. If she’s pretended to like Bryce all these years, what else is she pretending? I took a long drink of my martini and then returned my attention to her. “Well, regardless of your opinion, I’m still going to try to make our marriage work.”
Karen plucked the skewer from her empty glass and bit down on it, sliding two olives into her mouth. “That’s your decision in the end. But hell, if it’s any consolation, I’ll probably be joining your club soon.”
“What club?” I tilted my head.
“The ex-wives club.” She tossed the skewer back in the glass and pushed it away from her.
My eyes widened. “Are you and Mark getting a divorce?” I couldn’t believe it. They had always been such a solid couple. Then again, I thought Bryce and I were too.
“I’m not sure. We haven’t had sex in six months, which is both of our faults, but he just seems generally uninterested in me, and not just sexually.” Karen shrugged as if she didn’t care, but I know she did, she really did.
The server collected our empty glasses and we ordered sparkling water. “What are you going to do?” I asked.
“I don’t know. Figure out what’s wrong with me, what’s wrong with us. It’s not just him either. I have no interest in having sex with him.”
“Well, you are getting older.” I snickered.
Karen laughed. “Thanks for your sympathies.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Just a lull. All relationships have those.” I placed my hand on top of Karen’s.
“I hope so,” she said. “Anyway, let’s talk about something else, instead of the fact that we’re both becoming wrinkled-up old hags.” Karen smiled.
The server carefully poured two glasses from a bottle of San Pellegrino and placed them in front of both of us. He nodded and set the bottle in the center of the table before backing away.
“Have you met Crystal yet?” I asked.
I knew Karen was hiding something from me, and I was sure it had to do with the girls. Perhaps she knew why Olivia was being such a bitch to me, or she had interacted with Bryce’s new wife.
“Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. But I had lunch with her and Olivia the other day.”
I swirled my drink. Bingo. That’s it.
“And?” I raised my chin.
“And she was nice. But it didn’t go well. Olivia did what she always does: made a scene, stormed off, and apologized two minutes later.” Karen rolled her eyes.
“Over what?”
“You. She was adamant about not socializing with you anymore.”
I took another sip. I knew Olivia had it in for me after the incident at the salon, but I wasn’t sure why.
“What is her fucking deal?” I crossed my arms.
“Honestly, I think she’s insecure and she’s scared. And in Olivia’s twisted-up mind, I think she thinks divorce is contagious and she’ll end up in the same situation.”
“Oh, that’s ridiculous.” I waved my hand dismissively.
“She also mentioned something about you mistreating her years ago,” Karen said, raising an eyebrow.
I squinted my eyes, trying to recall this apparent mistreatment, but nothing came to mind. “I don’t know what she’s talking about, and you know how dramatic Olivia can be.”
Karen let out a small laugh. “You can say that again.” She took a sip of her water. “Anyway, how’s the gala coming along?”
“Pretty well. But I haven’t been able to get ahold of Tina about the budget, and Olivia hasn’t helped at all.” I gripped my water glass a little too tightly.
“That’s odd.” Karen pulled her lips in. “Anything I can do to help?”
“You’ve done your fair share. You secured the location, and the whole town knows about it, thanks to you as well,” I said with a smile.
Karen nodded.
“And . . .” I hesitated. “I’m still going to go through with introducing Bryce for his award.”