Page 28 of Operation Annulment
“So, you’re not a virgin?” I ask, peering down into her eyes.
She smiles through the tears and shakes her head again. “No. I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
“I’m not disappointed. That was—fuck—that was amazing.”
And it was. I was married to a woman for seven years and never felt a connection as strong as the one I have with a woman I met two weeks ago.
While Kate gets dressed and dries her hair, I try to find something for dinner. Unfortunately, my refrigerator is in the same sorry state as when I checked this morning.
“Takeout it is,” I mumble as I search the couch cushions for my phone.
Jess: 10 Missed calls
Jess: Please call me back
Jess: It’s an emergency
My thumb hovers over her name, and I gnaw at my lip before stepping onto the back porch to return her call.
“I’m sorry,” Jess says when she picks up. “I didn’t know who else to call. It’s getting worse. I passed out this afternoon and hit my head on the nightstand and had to get ten stitches at the hospital.”
I check the French doors, watching for any sign of Kate. “I’m sorry to hear that, Jess, but why are you calling me?”
“The hospital won’t release me without someone to take me home,” she says, sniffling. “I wouldn’t have called you, but I don’t have anyone else.”
Her voice sounds so small, and I feel like an asshole. I needed to pick up dinner for me and Kate anyway. It might not take too much of my time to swing by and get her on my way home. “Fine. I’ll be there in twenty,” I bark before ending the call with a muttered curse.
If I want a future with Kate, I need to cut ties with Jess. But why do I feel like she’s got my balls in a vise?
The house feels strangely empty when I walk in, and I immediately head for the bathroom to find it empty.
The open window only adds to the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Kate heard everything.
thirteen
COMMANDMENT #14: THOU SHALT NOT HOOK UP WITH A GUY WHO’S CLEARLY IN A RELATIONSHIP, EVEN IF HE SWEARS HE’S NOT
Kate
“Katy girl, you’ve been avoiding me for—let’s see—seventeen days, eighteen hours, and forty-seven minutes, give or take. I know why you left, but I’m asking that you at least hear me out before walking away for good. Please…”
I listen to the voicemail while gathering up my things to leave for the day, ignoring the painful tightness in my throat. It’s one of countless he’s left in the weeks since I left, but I’m not ready to talk.
Still, it doesn’t stop me from replaying his voicemails over and over like a masochist. It’s like I can’t help but rip the scabs off and let myself bleed out all over again.
I’ve almost made it to the door when my office phone rings from my desk, forcing me to turn back. “Hello?”
“Your five-thirty is here,” the office manager chirps. “As soon as he’s finished filling out his paperwork, I’ll send him up.”
“Five thirty?” I echo with a frown. Are you sure it’s mine, Stacy? I didn’t see anything on my calendar.
“I added him in yesterday after Carla called to cancel. It shouldhave synced to your calendar and sent you a reminder, but maybe there was a glitch in the system. The poor guy’s been trying to get in for weeks, so it was perfect timing.”
“Let me check,” I murmur, pulling my cell phone from my purse. “Yep, here it is. Chris Brander. I don’t know how I missed it.”
So much for my regularly scheduled sob fest while listening to Celine Dion in the car.
