Page 45 of Unmatched

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

She raises a brow. “Sure.”

“What is sex like for you?” My voice is so low I can barely hear myself.

A flash of confusion crosses her face, but she shrugs. “Um, fun?”

I swallow hard. Caprice and I are both young, healthy women in our twenties. But I’m married, and she isn’t. Does that automatically take out the fun? Because it isn’t the word that comes to mind for me. My thoughts go to things like tedious, messy, uncomfortable...

“Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”

“Excuse me?” She narrows her eyes. “How did we get from your husband being a lying cheater to there being something wrong with you?”

So I tell her everything that’s been swirling through my mind. What went down at the hotel and the awful striptease this morning, but also other stuff that’s been bothering me. How Anton seems to want sex all the time, but it’s the last thing I want to do. That I avoid touching him. And when I do give in to him, I wouldn’t describe it as fun. It feels...obligatory.

“So maybe this is all my fault.” I frown.

“Can I ask a question before you play the blame game?” Caprice says, ignoring me. “You guys have been together, what, eight? Ten years? Was it always this way?”

I open my mouth to say yes, except that’s not true. When Anton and I first met, things were different. I remember getting excited when we touched. Wanting to take off each other’s clothes. The first time we had sex was terrible, but it was the first time for both of us with anyone. That seemed like a given. It got easier from there, some times definitely better than others. But I have to admit it used to be different than it is now.

“Maybe not?”

“Great!” she says, looking slightly relieved. “Then you can get back to that—there’s hope. But I think you might be approaching this wrong. You don’t need to do stuff like a striptease if you’re not into it.”

“Then what should I do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe spend some time figuring out what’s changed. See if you can get back to what used to work?”

I mull that over. I don’t have a lot of faith in my instincts here, but maybe she’s on to something. “You sure your passion is journalism? I feel like you could charge a decent rate for therapy.”

Her eyes glimmer. “I’m almost finished writing this article. Trust me, your husband’s Unmatched bros will be paying my fee.”

“Fair enough.” My skin stings thinking of the other wives about to discover the truth in their marriages. I wonder how many of them will end up dumping their husbands. And how many will find themselves in some kind of love-tethered limbo like me.

“Don’t worry, I’m keeping you and Anton out of it,” Caprice assures me. “But Lydia, before you bend over backward to figure this out by yourself, don’t forget he was the one ready to cheat. He owes you some extra effort too.”

My arms are overloaded with cleaning supplies from a last-minute Costco run as I get back to The Pooch Park to pick up Heartthrob, so I don’t see the person standing outside until he offers to get the door for me.

“Oh, thank you so much.” I glance up and spot a familiar face. “Henry! How’s it going?”

Anton’s college friend is possibly the last person I expected to see outside my daycare, considering he’s never owned a dog, but he gives me a subdued smile and follows me inside. I set the Clorox wipes, garbage bags, and other items behind the desk and straighten up to find Henry peering through one of the interior windows into the main playroom, watching a goldendoodle wrestle with a dalmatian until a cattle dog zooms between them and all three give chase around the room. Over in the smaller dog area, a couple of dachshunds take turns having their bellies rubbed by one of my employees.

“Looks like you’re doing a brisk business,” he says in his faint British accent. He’s holding a leash in his hand, and I follow it down to an adorable fawn French bulldog standing at his feet.

“Oh my goodness—who is this?” I ask, falling to my knees in front of the little pup. She wiggles her butt and bows at the attention, sniffs my outstretched hand, then spins happily in a circle. “Henry, she’s adorable!”

“Her name is Carmelita,” he says, rolling his eyes. “My sister suckered me into taking care of her while she travels abroad.”

I tickle Carmelita behind her big ears until she makes all kinds of adorable snorts, and I laugh. “I bet she’ll be lucky if you even want to give her back.”

Henry frowns. “Look, she’s doing a number on my apartment while I’m at work. Anton said it might help if I brought her here.”

I stiffen a little at my husband’s name, but there’s nothing in Henry’s face indicating Anton’s let his friend in on the state of our marriage.

“Sure,” I say, straightening back up. “She seems pretty young. Two or three days a week here would give her some good exercise, keep her entertained, and wear her out. If you want, I can take her back for a few minutes and see how she does. We like to do a sort of ‘interview’ with every new dog before they start.”

“A dog interview?” Henry’s lip twitches, but he hands me the leash.

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