Chapter Thirty-Nine
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Heartthrob follows me around the house, practically glued to my heels. He’s been a mess ever since I pulled my purple suitcase back out and started packing for Dallas. Actually, we both have.
“You’ll have fun with Tomás and all your buddies,” I say in my most reassuring voice.
He tilts his head like he’s unconvinced, and I guess I can’t blame him. It’s been more than a week since Anton packed his own suitcase and walked out. Heartthrob whined and paced the first twenty-four hours, and he’s parked himself by the front window every day since, waiting for his return. They—we—have never been apart this long.
I look into his deep brown eyes, stroking the extra-soft fuzz on his Akita ears. “I won’t be gone long, and...maybe I’ll bring him home with me.”
My voice wavers as I express this hope. Heartthrob gives a resigned sigh, and I turn back to the bed to fold the rest of my shirts. My phone lights up on the duvet.
Seth
Shoot me your flight info so I can pick you up tonight.
Nah, don’t worry, I’ll get a Lyft. Will you guys be at Sunny Cove, or should I come to the house?
Seth
Cove. He sits with her from nine to five like it’s his job. I’m glad you’re coming.
Does he know?
Seth
Hell no. I’m staying out of this. Just get here so you can kiss and make up.
I manage a small smile. My brother-in-law inherited all the easy communication Anton didn’t get from their mom. When I called to feel him out about my plan, Seth was elated. He said if I didn’t come soon he’d put Anton on a plane to Denver himself.
When my suitcase is nearly full, I realize I almost forgot the essentials and pull open my underwear drawer. I am about to grab a handful of my usual cotton briefs when a glimpse of lace catches my eye toward the back. I pull out the two sexy lingerie sets I purchased before meeting Anton at the hotel. With a warm feeling in my belly, I slip into the set I haven’t worn yet. It’s a champagne color, with delicate pink flowers scattered over the sheer fabric covering my clearly visible nipples. It’s a bit more structurally complete than the set I wore at the hotel, but seeing it in the mirror still makes me blush. I can’t help wondering if Anton will like it—if he even sees it. Or if he’ll ask me to leave before he gets the chance.
After a few instructions and a pep talk with my bather, Alicia, about how to open Ooh La Pooch without Scarlet, I drop Heartthrob with Tomás on my way to the airport. I haven’t mentioned the deal with Henry to him yet, and I’m worried how he’ll react, but Anton is the person I need to talk to about that next. I hope he can see what I’m trying to do—what it could mean for us .
I nearly abandon the entire trip at airport security when, of all things, my carry-on starts to buzz. Two TSA agents approach, looking official and insisting I unzip the suitcase to show them what’s inside. I had packed my electric toothbrush, and for several seconds I pray to the airport gods that it’s the source of the vibration. Because I had also thrown the rabbit in as an afterthought just before I left the house, a vote of confidence for myself that this whole effort might go well. I should’ve left it at home. I should have at least taken out the batteries.
The vibration was not coming from the toothbrush.
After an extended period of mortification during which the agents relay cryptic messages over their radios through bouts of muffled laughter, they finally decide I’m not carrying explosives and allow me to re-pack my bag. Though joke’s on me when I look for the battery—it’s rechargeable. By this point, I’m closer to the terminal than the airport exit, so I power toward my gate, trying not to die of humiliation. I find an empty corner facing a window so I can put my back to anyone who might’ve witnessed that particular disgrace, and I’m about to pull up my flight status when my phone rings.
“Hello?” I answer, grateful to see Caprice’s name.
“Hey, glad I caught you,” she says in a rush. “Have you left for the airport yet?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, trying not to relive what just happened. “Oh, I’m there.”
She makes a sound I can’t identify. “Okay, um...shit, I was hoping to catch you before you left.”
I lean forward in my uncomfortable airport chair at the tone of her voice. She knows about the plan with Henry, why I’m going to Dallas, and what my hopes are for confronting Anton. If there’s a reason she wants to stop me, it’s probably bad.
“God, Lydia, I don’t know what else to tell you,” she says, blowing out a hard breath. “Anton’s back on Unmatched.”
My back hits the hard plastic seat.
Out the window, a Southwest Airlines jet barrels down a runway, taking off.
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“I was working on one of the follow-ups to the married-cheating article. I hadn’t logged into the site since the first one published, so I was checking to see what had changed. New policies, which guys were gone, who was brave enough to stick around, and...his profile’s back up. It’s active again.” Her voice gets quiet. “I’m sorry.”
I pull the phone away from my ear, staring at the screen like there should be something I can see. Something tangible. But it only shows the seconds of the call ticking by. What does this information mean? What do I do with it? I had about ten different plans in my head of various ways to move forward depending on how things went in Dallas, but Anton dating other women wasn’t one of those scenarios. Seth assured me my husband had been in a rut since he arrived, that he was miserable and would welcome my arrival. But...maybe not.
Maybe I’m too late.
“Lydia?”
“Yeah?” I bring the phone back to my ear, watching planes negotiate the busy runway. Trying to figure out if I’m coming or going.
“You want me to come get you?”
I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Let me call you back.”
With shaking hands, I navigate my browser to the site with the sultry blonde woman peeking out at me from the screen, beckoning me—someone—for a hookup. I’d deleted the app weeks ago, after that terrible striptease, when Anton promised he wouldn’t go on it again. Of course, he said. I promise. Never again.
At least, not for thirty days.
But this is only day twenty-one.
My skin goes clammy as I log in, click over to “favorites,” and my husband’s profile appears. Smiling at me, smug, from that same idiotic cropped photo. The phone hits my lap as my face falls into my hands. How could I be so stupid? He’s made clear what he wanted for weeks. I don’t know why I ever thought it would be me.
Some announcement blares from a speaker overhead. Maybe about my flight. I don’t comprehend the words. I manage to raise one hand from where it sits like a stone in my lap, ready to take Caprice up on her offer for a ride. Anywhere. I don’t care. But just as I’m about to close the site that has unmatched my marriage in every way, I notice something. A small red dot in the corner of the screen, indicating I have unread messages.
Probably it’s just spam. Or unsolicited offers from other amoral men. Someone else looking to wreck their home. But something curls deep inside me as I stare at the notification, and I can’t bring myself to click away until I know for sure.
There are six unread messages. All sent over the last three days:
MountainMan3
You said I’m hard to read. That I never tell you how I feel. And now here I am, typing all the words I should have said into the app that ruined everything. Useless, maybe. But better than not saying them at all, I guess.
MountainMan3
Sitting here alone, watching my mom slip away is awful. But it’s worse realizing I’ve lost you too.
MountainMan3
I thought maybe if I learned the right skills, I could figure out how to fix us. It felt like we came close the other day. I should have asked if you felt it too. Instead I focused on all the wrong things.
MountainMan3
I can’t and WON’T ask you to give anything up for me.
MountainMan3
I know I’ve lost every chance I had. And it sounds lame, but if I could do it over, I would. I’d listen about the Pooches, then take you back to bed. Find all the right places on your body to make you reach the stars again. Then sit with you until we figured out how to reach your dreams too.
MountainMan3
Lydia, I can’t imagine my life with anyone but you.