Page 71 of The Seven Month Itch
His voice comes through the crack in the door. The tone is soft, like he’s trying to tell a secret he doesn’t want anyone to hear. When we’re both on the phone, one of us usually has to leave theroom because his voice rivals a WWE event. I peek my head in to say hi but stop myself when I see him.
He sits with spread legs in front of his computer, and there’s a woman on the screen. They’re deep in conversation and can’t see me from the angle of the door. It’s not unusual for him to talk to women, a client or someone involved in his company. But this doesn’t sound like a business meeting.
I turn to leave but stay when curiosity gets the better of me.
“I’ve been waiting to talk to you all day,” he says in a faint murmur. “I know things are different now, but maybe there’s a way to keep going, Reina?”
Reina?
She’s hesitant to respond. It’s hard to make out her features from here, except for her flowy chestnut hair.
Who is Reina?
“There isn’t anus. You know why there can’t be.” She sighs. “You have to tell her. I know you haven’t.”
Tell me what?
He rubs the back of his neck and exhales. “I know. Give me time, okay? I need to figure some stuff out first. But I don’t want this to stop. This”—he motions between them—“is special.”
Your life is about to end, but do continue.
It takes everything in me to step away from the door without a sound. What the hell did I overhear? Is he seeing another woman? No, that can’t be. Right?
I enter our bedroom in a rush and make a beeline for the bathroom. Maybe I hit my head and misunderstood the conversation between Terrence andReina. Yes, that’s it. I have a concussion or something that requires a trip to the ER, not a divorce attorney. Why would he fight so hard for me only to step out? After everything.
Maybe he met someone before the singles’ retreat and had a tough time letting her go?
God, I’m going to be sick. I turn on the faucet to splash water on my face and calm my nerves.Spoiler: It doesn’t work.I need to keep a level head about this. Otherwise, one of two things will happen: I’ll charge into the home office and tear his balls through his throat, or I’ll pack my bags and leave him for good.
Or maybe you shouldn’t jump to conclusions before you get to the whole “death do us part.”
My grip on the sink turns my knuckles white. I’ve misjudged situations before. He hasn’t given me any reason to suspect he’s cheating. This could all be a misunderstanding. I didn’t hear the entire conversation. When we got back together, we decided to start fresh, and with that comes trust.
The sound of Terrence’s laughter fills the halls on his way to our bedroom. “She’s still out, but I will tell her you called. I love you too, Mama.”
See. How could he have another woman when I’m the one he talks about to his mother?
You just described a side piece.
I stumble over the rug in our room.
“Hey, babe, you’re home.” He tosses the phone on the bed and pulls me into a hug. I get a grin before he takes my mouth. All my insecurities melt away. I know this man. He won’t hurt me like that.
I smile back. “I am. How’s your mom?”
“Great. She’s back from a visit with Connie and her rug rats.” Constance is Terrence’s oldest sister, named after a character inThe Three Musketeers. She lives in Miami with her husband, Emilio, and their two sons, Oscar and Sebastian. Terrence is closer to Audre, his youngest sister he helped raise. Connie moved out when she turned eighteen, attended community college, and found a job in Florida as a medical assistant. She was twelve when their father walked out, and she left New Jersey the second she was old enough. We make the trip to see herfamily twice a year, though I know Terrence wishes they were closer.
“Sounds like fun. We should go see your mom soon.”
He shakes his head. “No need. She wants to come this way now that we’re back together.”
That makes me smile. Horror stories about monster-in-laws—mothers who keep death grips on their sons—are scary enough. But that’s not Robin. Our connection was instant when Terrence and I started dating. She treats me like one of her daughters because to her, I am.
“Let’s plan something for our parents to come at once. Mine are itching to visit but wanted to give us our space.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Terrence puts his arm around my shoulder and kisses my forehead. He won’t go five minutes without some physical display of affection. “What do you want to do for dinner? Cook or eat out?”
His conversation with Reina returns in a chill.I don’t think I’m comfortable now that you’re back with Justice. You have to tell her.
