Page 11 of Forgotten Romance

I guess with the kids and us still living together, I’d always taken for granted that things wouldn’t change. We’re not together, but … we are. In a way.

Luke ruins everything.

He’s the glass shattering on my comfortable life, and it feels like I’ve swallowed gravel as I get Van and Kiera to the car and strap them in. Is this what the next twelve weeks will be like? Having to watch my husband go out with other men?

Maybe … maybe it’s time. It doesn’t make financial sense to get my own place here, but what the fuck am I supposed to do? Lie in my bed, listening to Mack next door with someone else?

Or worse—him not coming home at all.

I scrub at my eyes before turning the car on.

None of this is Mack’s fault.

None is mine either.

We both just wanted different things.

But why the hell does one of those things have to be Luke?

4

Mack

“I take three days off and have to be told by Rhonda about you being dropped off by a man folk on Monday.” Tonya fans herself. “Apparently, he was quite the catch. A regular Mr. Darcy.”

I laugh at her dramatics and continue rehoming the cart of books beside me. You’d think with being almost twenty years older than us and the manager here that Rhonda would have more important things to be doing than gossiping. Apparently not. “Just a …” I pause, because friend doesn’t sound right. Other than our date, a few texts, and the other morning, we haven’t had much to do with each other. I declined breakfast with the excuse I needed to work, but if I’m honest, it felt too weird.

Luke is great, but I don’t want to lead the poor guy on.

“Uh-huh.” Tonya gets a coy smile. “A … lover? Hottie? Boyyyfriend?”

“None of those.” I frown. “I was going to say friend, but can he be called that when I barely even know the guy?”

“Know as in know or know as in knooow?”

“Please stop.”

She sobers up. “What’s wrong? You know I’m only teasing.”

“I know, but Luke isn’t like that. Also …” I play with the corner of the book I’ve just picked up. “Davey’s home.”

She snorts. “Goodie.”

“For three months.”

Her long exhale breezes through the quiet air around us. “Well. That’s different.”

“It’s been so nice having him home and knowing he doesn’t have to leave again in a few days.”

“But … he will leave. Right?”

It’s the undeniable truth that I don’t want to face. I’m happy living in my own bubble of la-la land and would really like it if people could stop throwing reality at me. Reality sucks. Zero rating out of ten. Where are the mystical unicorns of possibility? Oh, that’s right, they died.

Just straight up smother me in delulu, thank you.

“Not for a while,” I say. “It’ll be good for the kids.”

“And what about you?”

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