Chapter Nine
Thursday arrived like a slap, sharp and insistent, and this time I didn’t let myself linger in the ache of worrying about my husband and a faceless woman.
I drove straight to Rachel’s. When you didn’t want to drown in your thoughts, the only answer was action, and Rachel was never content to let me wallow.
We were upstairs, knee-deep in a glittery graveyard of discarded dresses, when Rachel paused in front of the mirror, the hem of her midnight-blue dress hugging her hips in a way that made her body look almost indecently perfect.
“Do I look fat in this?” She spun, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed in mock seriousness.
“You don’t look fat in anything,” I said, because it was the truth, and because even Rachel needed to hear it sometimes.
She grinned and cocked a finger at the emerald green dress I’d found buried behind some ancient coats. “No, that’s the one. That color makes your skin look amazing.”
I stepped in front of the tall mirror, smoothing the clingy, half-soft, half-structured fabric over my hips.
It was the kind of dress that looked like it should have come with instructions, but somehow, it worked.
Not suffocating tight, but definitely attention-seeking.
I paired it with strappy silver heels with just enough height to look dangerous, but hopefully, not enough to kill me.
Rachel caught my eye in the reflection. “See, this is what you needed. A fun night out. You’ve been ignoring me forever.”
“Have not,” I protested, but my voice sounded thin, almost hollow. “It’s just… there’s been a lot, lately.”
Even as I said it, my face started to slip. I could feel the gravity of it, pulling my mood straight down.
Her hand landed on my shoulder, heavy with understanding. “Don’t. Don’t go there, Liv. Not tonight. We’re not thinking about them.”
Them. Not even names. Just a shapeless, almost mythic other woman, doing things with my husband that I didn’t want to imagine.
“We’re going to have a freaking blast tonight!” Rachel’s arms shot into the air, her grin wild and contagious.
I let out a laugh, unexpected and grateful. “Rach, we aren’t twenty-one anymore.”
“Oh, but we’re still yoooooung,” she sang, working her hips in a circle. “And we’ve still got it, babe.”
She was still halfway twirling when her phone buzzed.
“Uber’s here.” She snapped her clutch shut. “Let’s blow this joint.”
∞∞∞
The club wasn’t far, one of those places pulsing with music and neon even on a Thursday. No line, just a bouncer with a wink and a velvet rope. Rachel gave him a flirty finger wave that was so textbook I almost snorted, but her confidence made it seem effortless.
Inside, the music was heavy and loud, all synthetic bass and scattered strobe lights. Perfect. It made thinking impossible—which was the point.
We elbowed our way to the bar. I ordered a shot of tequila and a wine spritzer.
Rachel laughed at me. “You’re going to have to up your game, darling.”
I pointed at my tequila. “That’s what this is for.”
She turned to the bartender, all radiance and red lips. “Margarita, and a shot, please.”
We leaned against the bar and watched dancers move beneath the changing lights. Rachel, of course, zeroed in on a man immediately—the type you’d spot in a crowded room, long black hair tousled and tied up in a bun, tight shirt half-unbuttoned, the kind of chest you saw on fitness ads.
“He’s hot,” she said, chin jerking toward the dance floor.
“Sure is,” I agreed, trying not to stare like a tourist.
She just laughed and tipped back her shot. “I dare you to go home with him.”
I nearly choked on my spritzer. “Are you kidding?”
She shrugged, totally unapologetic. “Cam’s out there right now, probably halfway home with somebody.
Why shouldn’t you? You could be having fun too, Livi.
Honestly, I think Cam wouldn’t be pushing for this ‘open’ thing if he knew even half of what it feels like from your side.
Maybe he needs a dose of his own medicine. ”
I let that marinate for all of three seconds before shaking my head. “I couldn’t do it if I tried. I’m just not wired that way.”
Rachel just laughed again. “Suit yourself. It can be very liberating.”
She nudged her drink closer to me. “Watch that. I’m off to dance.”
I swirled the ice in my wine spritzer, my eyes trailing to the man on the dance floor who, sure enough, was now spinning Rachel. She moved like she ran on pure confidence.
Me, I just wondered if I’d ever have it in me to even try that kind of freedom. Truth was, physical pleasure was easy. It was the emotional safety that I missed—the feeling of being able to trust someone with your whole self, not just your body.
“Fancy seeing you here.”
I turned and almost jumped. Nate slid onto the barstool beside me, his smile so easy it softened everything for a second.
“Hi! When did you get here?”
He gestured toward the crowd, where Rachel and her man were already locked together. “With a friend. Looks like our friends are hitting it off.”
“For sure,” I said. Rachel was already kissing the guy, because of course she was.
Nate ordered a drink, voice low. When he caught me watching his lips, he just smiled, warm and a little teasing.
The thing was, Nate was like instant comfort food.
He’d been teaching me the ropes at the bookstore all week, just the two of us since Mr. Porter was still out sick.
And even though Nate was technically the owner’s grandson, he acted like we were equals, like it was our little world to run together.
He’d even tried to teach me the coffee machines, which was a disaster, but he made it funny anyway.
With him, I could let down my guard. I told him embarrassing childhood stories I’d forgotten I even remembered.
Not about the marriage or the mess with Cam, but things that should have made me feel stupid.
Instead, he took them and made them seem brave, like every awkward story was a badge of honor.
I needed that, these days, when my self-worth was in shreds.
He tipped his glass at me. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“That thing where you’re in the room, but you’re not. Lost in your head.”
“Oh.” I blinked, a little startled. “Yeah. Sometimes I get lost.”
He shrugged, like it was no big deal. “Wanna tell me where you went?”
I thought for a second before answering, “You’re just really easy to talk to. You don’t judge. I like that.”
He grinned. “I’m a listener, Liv. Only perfect people can judge, and I am definitely not one of those.”
Rachel was suddenly back, hair wild, cheeks flushed. “Who’s this?” she asked, sliding onto the stool next to me.
“This is Nate,” I explained, feeling suddenly twelve. “He’s the owner’s grandson where I work. Kind of my boss, but not, really.”
Rachel reached across him immediately. “Nice to meet you! She’s already talked about you. Says you’re super nice.”
Nate just gave me a look, soft and pleased. “Well, the feeling’s mutual.”
Jackson—the black-haired guy—appeared next to Rachel, hand on her arm, clearly ready to leave.
Rachel turned to me, eyes sparkling. “Would you hate me if I ditched you?”
I shook my head, smiling. “Of course not. Go, have fun!”
She was already putting on her coat, calling over her shoulder: “Stay as long as you want. My place is yours if you need to crash.”
“I’m good,” I said, but she was already gone, leaning in close to whisper, “I’ll give you all the details tomorrow, he’s so freaking hot.”
I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief.
When they’d gone, the silence landed between me and Nate like a slow exhale.
He turned to me, curiosity on his face. “Where’s your husband tonight?”
The question was so abrupt I nearly spilled my drink.
He noticed, wincing. “Sorry. Not my business. It's just this place is kinda known for… you know.”
“This was Rachel’s idea,” I said, my voice a little sharp. “I don’t think she planned on a hook-up, but I guess she couldn’t help herself.”
Nate’s mouth curled. “That’s Jackson for you. He has a way.”
I nodded, tracing a line of condensation on my glass. “Cam’s out tonight too. Rachel was just… keeping me company.”
“So she abandoned you.”
“It’s fine. She’s not my babysitter.” I offered a brittle laugh. “I’m a big girl.”
He stood up, finished his drink, and turned back to me. “If you’re ready to go, I can drive you home.”
At first, I wanted to object—I didn’t want to put him out, or make a thing out of it. But he was already insisting.
“No trouble at all. I don’t really like these places. I came for Jackson, but he’s already done.”
“Okay,” I agreed, surprising myself with how glad I was to have his company.
He led the way out, palm gentle at the base of my back—not hurried, not claiming, just solid and reassuring. So different from the hard, possessive way Cam sometimes touched me.
His car still smelled new and expensive; the seats were soft, almost buttery against my skin. As he started the engine, he glanced at me. “Where to?”
I hesitated, thinking about staying at Rachel’s, maybe making a night of it, but it felt like hiding.
Cam had asked for more effort. If I ran away every time he was out, I wasn’t exactly trying, was I?
I rattled off my address, hoping Cam wouldn’t be home yet so I didn’t have to explain why I was with Nate and not in an Uber.
Luck was on my side: the house was empty, phantom-quiet when we pulled up.
Nate killed the engine and turned to me. “It’s almost midnight and your husband’s not home. That’s late, right?”
I shrugged, not willing to give in to how much it hurt.
He rounded the car and opened my door. “I’ll walk you up.”
“You don’t have to.”
He paused, searching my face. “I want to, Livi.”
The words caught me off guard, thin and oddly beautiful. I let him lead me to the porch, the night air cool around my bare arms.
He took in the house, giving a low whistle. “Wow. You could fit three of my apartments in this place.”
I shrugged, tracing my key along the seam of the door. “We bought it thinking we’d have a big family. But… that wasn’t in the cards.”
He watched me, patient. “That bother you?”
“Maybe,” I said, voice low. “It really bothers Cam, I think. Sometimes I wonder if I’m enough for him, on my own.” I couldn’t believe I’d said it out loud, but there it was.
He reached out, hand lifting my chin, not forceful, just gentle. “You are more than enough. Never let anyone tell you different. And if they do, they’re wrong.”
The words hit something inside me, and I squeezed his hand in return. “Thank you. For being so nice. And the ride.”
“Anytime,” he said. And I believed him.
He waited until I was inside, watching from the porch as I fumbled through the dark entryway and kicked off my shoes. I barely had time to breathe before I heard the sound of Cam’s keys in the lock. Relief washed over me that Nate had made it out of the driveway before he pulled in.
He came in the bedroom, shirt half-unbuttoned, looking startled to see me. “Did you just get in?”
“Yeah,” I said, setting my purse down. “Went out with Rachel.”
He looked me up and down, something flickering in his eyes. “You look gorgeous. Didn’t expect you to go out.”
“Club,” I said, ignoring the compliment.
His eyebrows lifted. “Since when do you go to clubs?”
I shrugged. “She wanted to go. It was her idea.”
“Did you dance with anyone?”
I stared at him, amazed at his nerve.
He put up his hands. “Sorry. Just didn’t expect to see you up.”
“I didn’t expect you back this early,” I said, the words out before I could stop them.
He winced. “Yeah. We, uh, wrapped up early.”
The meaning hung in the air like a punch. I tried not to let him see it hurt.
He tried to smooth it over immediately. “That was stupid of me to say.”
“Whatever.” Grabbing my pajamas, I headed for the hall.
He watched me, frowning. “Where are you going?”
“Shower.”
There was a pause before he said, “You can join me if you want. I was just about to get one too.”
I shook my head. “No thanks. I’d rather not be there while you wash her away.”
I made it all the way to the guest shower before letting the tears come, doubling over on the tile as the water tried and failed to drown out the noise in my chest.