Page 20 of Mr. Delicious
We stayed together for another year and one day I came home and found her fucking her tennis instructor.
So… I knew a thing or two about liars and cheats. I was a thirty-five year old man who’d gotten married at twenty-eight, and divorced before I turned thirty.
The reason, dishonesty.
“Don’t get stuck thinking about her man. There’s a new woman you’re hooked on. I say if you want Wren, take her.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Right. I think I have to give her time to get over the ex-first.”
Although, from what I could tell seemed like she was over him already.
It was just her debt.
Yesterday I’d gotten my lawyers to draw up a contract to hand over the title for the coffeehouse to her. It would take a few days or so before they finished. I also arranged to refund the money she’d already paid, deposit and all.
What I was checking out was the other debt.
Yup, I’d gone mad trying to think up ways to make this woman happy, but hey it felt good and money was no object for me.
“He’s an ex. Sucks to be him. Does it look like she’ll take him back?”
“No. She doesn’t seem the type to be fooled like that.”
“Then take my advice. If you want the woman take her.”
Oh, I wanted to, and I would. It was just a matter of how.
While I thought that up, I wanted to be respectful and not move in on her while she wasn’t ready.
If there was one thing today had taught me, it was that there absolutely was a hundred percent something special about Wren; because my heart had been closed for business for years.
* * *
Wren
* * *
My heart caught in my chest when I looked at my phone and saw a text from Mr. Delicious.
I’d previously been talking to my mom telling her what happened. As expected she gave me theI told you solecture I knew she’d wanted to serve me for years.
Seeing this text was a most welcomed treat.
It simply saidhi.
I was about to type back when the little blue dots started jumping around on the screen of my phone.
Mr Delicious: Don’t you want to know if the coffee house is still standing?
I had saved his contact name as Mr Delicious. It was only when I keyed it in that it dawned on me that that wasn’t even his name.
Wren: Is it still standing?
My breathing stilled when the dots started jumping again.
Mr Delicious: Yup. Please tell me you’re resting.
Wren: I’m resting and watching Fashion Police.
