Page 228 of Accidental Husband
I want to believe it. That we're past secrets. But it's hard.
"Got a lot of stories like that," Chase says.
Her eyes get big. Curious. "Tell me one."
"It was a few weeks after that," Chase says. "He stopped by my place one night. Must have been eleven. I was already in my pajamas. Reading."
She laughs. "Wild nights."
"Who needs wild?" he asks.
She nodstrue. "Probably made him think of me."
I nod. "It did. Made me all over protective and worried."
"Really?" she asks.
"Yeah." I worry about her. Too much. But I can't help it.
Chase looks between us. Smiles an easy smile. He really is happy for us. But he's still torturing me. "Your husband looks at me and shakes his head." He imitates me. "Chase, buddy, you gotta pull your shit together. Reading at eleven on a Friday? You're heartbroken, not dead. Let's go out. Meet some babes."
"Did you?" she asks.
"Oh yeah," I say. "He wouldn't change, so I dragged him to a bar in his pajamas."
"Wouldn't let go of the book either," Chase says.
"He sat there, on his stool, reading, completely oblivious to all the women checking him out," I say. "And there were a lot. Fuck, every other girl came up to him to ask what he was reading."
"You didn't respond?" she asks.
He nods. "Don't want to be with someone who interrupts me when I'm reading."
Jules smiles. "Very true. But some interruptions are worth it." She shoots me a knowing look.
Chase shakes his headI know what that means. "Should I give you two a minute?"
"A minute isn't gonna be long enough," I say.
"Don't know. I've heard things about your stamina." He winks at Jules. "Rumors about quick endings."
"You want to watch and find out?" I tease.
He shakes his headhell no. "Just want your wife to know the gossip."
Jules laughs. "I appreciate that."
He nodsmy pleasure. "How about I get you a drink, Juliette?"
"Yeah. Tequila and iced tea." Her phone buzzes against her pocket. She pulls it out. Stares at the screen. "Or something citrus. Orange or grapefruit juice. But nothing with sugar."Incoming call from Jackson Jones. "Actually, I'll be right back."
"Don't." My voice is desperate, needy, pathetic.
It's not a big deal. It's a phone call from her ex. It's not like he's about to sayI'm sorry, Jules, I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anything. I made a mistake. I want you back. Please come back.
Even if he did—
She won't leave.
