Page 15 of The Vow Thief
He’s probably the longest relationship I’ve ever had with a man. Two years, maybe three, depending on how you count the weeks he ghosted me for“real family time.” Thank God he’s married. And thank God he“loves” his wife. I’ve met her dozens of times. Zero interest in breaking them up. That woman sends me Buffalo Trace bourbon, silk panties, and some overpriced Himalayan chocolate every Christmas. If anything, I admired her loyalty. She knew how to accessorize denial with taste.
She also knew how to keep a secret. Mr. Holloway would never know about the night she and I got wine-drunk at the firm’s holiday party and locked ourselves in the powder room. Her boobs are fake, but perfect. Soft in a way that made you forget they’re not real. We didn’t talk about it afterward. Some moments just hang in your memory like silk. No guilt. No follow-up. Just...texture.
In a weird, fucked-up way, I feel like I’m part of the Holloway family. A wild cousin that gets invited to dinner but never to Thanksgiving. And when he whispered about fucking me on Matt’s desk, I almost exploded my girlie glitter all over him. He really did know how to unravel me. Not romantically. Not emotionally. Just chemically. Like he was the match, and I was whatever was unstable that day.
Afterward, I didn’t bother staying. Why would I? The office was full of dull people doing dull things. I’d already gotten what I needed. I felt too good to waste the day on emails and whispers.
So I left.
I walked past HR, smiling like I hadn’t just had my soul rearranged twenty minutes earlier. Walked by Matt's empty office and through the front doors. I queued Never Fight a Man With A Perm by Idles and barrelled out of the parking lot like a bat out of the second circle of hell.
It’s always like this after Jim. He made me feel sharpened. Slick. Like my blood was champagne and my body was nothing but instinct. I loved that he didn’t try to fix me. Or understand me. He just used me the way I wanted to be used. Hard. Unapologetic. Clean.
But then I thought about Matt.
I wondered if he’d be jealous if he knew. I wondered if Jim would be jealous of how much I still loved Matt. Probably not. Jim didn't care what I felt, only how I performed. But Matt... Matt cared once. And he cared deeply. Enough to leave his wife. Enough to lie. Enough to let me see every scared little part of him, he probably didn’t even like looking at himself.
I knew he was back with her. I knew he was trying to fix it. But I also knew the kind of man he was. Once a crack was revealed, it never really sealed. Not all the way. He could patch it. Repaint it. But he would always remember where it broke. And who broke it.
I was the one who broke him open.
And I didn't care how many times he tried to put the pieces back. He was never going to forget how I made him feel when everything else in his life was just pretending.
I drove to his apartment complex and parked outside his building. I've never been inside his apartment. I wondered if he was even still living here or if he was back home with Saint Sarah. His car wasn't there. I guess there was only one way to find out. It was time I drove by the Taylor house.
I knew I was being reckless with the retraining order thing. If I could just catch a glimpse of him. Hell, I just needed five minutes with him outside of the office, away from his family...to myself.
I pulled up an old text conversation from Matt, one that I hadn't shared with Sarah yet, but that day was coming.
Lily:Babe, how are you still at the soccer game? Is it some eternal game for the gods?
Matt:Patience, baby. Don't worry, I will be home in time to both fuck and tuck you in. We have all night. No more wine! Thor's hammer has limits.
Lily:I am taking my clothes off right now, just in case.
Matt:Best idea ever. Send me pics. PLEASE!
I've read it a million times. Still made me smile. And cry. I still had the first rose he gave me, too. Dried and pressed between the pages of a book I would never finish. I just couldn't let this man go. He was the one. My true love.
I started the car up.Romanceby Varials was blaring through my speakers, loud enough that my mirror shook. The guitars tore through the car like a snarl. It made me feel alive, like my chest was full of sparks instead of air.
I pulled out of the lot and headed toward the Taylor house.
Rules only existed for people who weren’t brave enough to break them.
The drive felt shorter than it should. I’ve done it before, but never like this. Never with my heart beating so hard it feels like a drum under my ribs. Never with my hands gripping the wheel like I could choke it.
I slowed as the neighborhood came into view. The perfect lawns. The symmetrical houses. All of it like a postcard. My headlights swept across their driveway. His car wasn't there. Only hers. The house looked calm, lit from the inside, curtains drawn. A scene so perfect it made my teeth ache.
I parked two doors down and kept the engine running. I turned the music off. I stared at the front door, waiting for nothing and everything at once.
I imagined him walking out, seeing me, the look on his face. Surprised first. Then angry. Then that thing that still lived in his eyes when he looked at me. The thing that said he remembered.
I gripped the wheel tighter. One glimpse. That’s all I needed.
A wave of bravery hit me, and I pulled the car around to a side street and parked. I wanted in. I took my shoes off and left them in the car. The pavement was cool under my feet.
I snuck around to the side of their house, testing a few windows. Locked. I could hear voices and movement. That distant thudding sound of people walking around. I eased to the back of the house and tested a door. BINGO!
