Chapter 9 #2
Solo tamped down the desire to physically react when Amber’s lips twitched after she’d asked the question. It was Saturday night, and this was a special restaurant— She stopped her internal rant. “I guess we’ll see,” she said instead.
Amber left, and Solo placed her phone on the table, screen up so she could keep an eye on the time without constantly shoving up her sleeve to check her watch, looking like a loser.
She took off her jacket reluctantly, but the open fire a few tables away made it impossible to do otherwise unless she wanted to melt onto the chair.
Amber returned with a bottle of water and a single glass, demonstrating where she was placing her bet on whether or not Janie would show.
Solo thanked her without looking up from the sleek, iridescent cutlery she was shifting and straightening.
The twisted rope-like metal shafts felt nice in her palm, and she didn’t want that experience ruined by another judgmental look from the zoomer.
She’d just completed a spray job at the garage with a similar finish on an Aston Martin; the owner of that car wouldn’t be treated to Amber’s particular brand of hospitality, for sure.
Solo snapped her head up at the distinct clicking of heels on the stone floor.
The sound was always a positive trigger, no matter who was filling the shoes, but she’d recognize the cadence of Janie’s step anywhere.
Her heart hammered against her ribs and her breath caught— So predictable.
She squared her shoulders and looked up just as the heels came into view.
Janie looked exhausted but still stunning in a simple emerald dress.
She’d pulled her usually vibrant auburn hair back into a severe ponytail.
Her green eyes, always so warm and full of life, were guarded and…
flat. Could eyes be flat? But seeing her for the first time in almost a week still took Solo’s breath away, and the ache in her chest intensified as Janie’s presence here reinforced her absence at home.
“You came.” Solo stood and moved to pull out Janie’s chair, but Janie was too quick and had already done it for herself before Solo could make it around the table.
“I did,” Janie said as she smoothed her dress and sat down.
The cautious neutrality in Janie’s expression pierced Solo’s heart.
She looked distant, with a hint of fear in her eyes.
Why would she be scared? Unless she was here to tell Solo they were done forever, and she wasn’t sure how Solo was going to react.
Sure, they’d argued, but Solo had never gotten physical.
If either of them had reason to be frightened, it was Solo.
She couldn’t face life without Janie by her side.
Janie was her life, her oxygen, the reason she was alive.
Solo clutched at her chest when her breathing became labored.
Janie inclined her head slightly. “Are you okay?”
Solo nodded weakly and poured a glass of water. She took a long drink and tried to steady her breathing. She was being stupid. She hadn’t even tried to save them yet, and she was already giving up.
Amber slipped up to the table and smiled widely at Janie. Of course she would. Janie commanded respect and admiration without even being aware of it. And she was so beautiful, no matter how straight the zoomer thought she was, she’d find herself attracted to Janie.
“Can I get you something to drink, miss?” Amber asked.
And sure, Janie looked far younger than thirty-five, so of course she’d be a miss and not a madam.
“A glass of merlot, please.”
Solo recognized the professional smile that followed Janie’s words.
She was in full-on courtroom mode, an impenetrable wall shielding her true emotions.
Janie had shut her out, and this was just a business meeting.
Jesus, was that what this was? Did she want to pull her stake from the garage?
Gabe and the gang would go insane. Their dream had finally become a reality, and Solo was going to be responsible for it all crashing down around them. Gabe would never forgive her.
“Why is your hair up like that?” Solo tugged at her ear. That’s the best question she could think of? Did Chicago have earthquakes? That seemed like the only thing that might rescue her from herself. She tried to dredge her memory for the plan, for all the purple prose she’d been practicing.
Janie’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t have time to wash it after work.”
Solo frowned. “You worked today? You never work Saturdays. That’s—” She slammed the brakes on her motormouth.
What was she going to say? That’s new? Saturdays are family time.
She couldn’t, and shouldn’t, challenge anything Janie said.
She was supposed to be apologizing, supposed to be making amends.
But instead, she was turning the whole thing to shit.
“I had to,” Janie said. “We have a new client, and Phillip wanted the whole department in for the weekend.” She glanced at her watch. “I don’t have long before I have to be back.”
Solo scrubbed her hand across the back of her head.
“You’re going back to work after this?” The tiny sliver of hope she’d had that Janie might jump into her arms and ask her to drive them home, back where she belonged, receded into the depths of her mind.
She laughed at herself. Like Janie would just rush back into Solo’s embrace, forgiving her for everything when she’d been such a dick since the babies were born.
Janie visibly stiffened. “I have to if I want to keep my job. And especially if I ever want to make partner.”
Solo rolled her neck. She’d had to work hard to suffocate her ego when it came to Janie being the one to bring in all the money, no matter how much she declared otherwise that she wasn’t that kind of traditional butch.
Or masc. Or whatever the hell she was supposed to call herself these days.
Asshole, mostly. “Are you making progress with Rosie’s situation?
” she asked, trying to steer back to less combative ground.
This wasn’t going the way she’d planned, but maybe she’d been stupid thinking she could just dive straight into the deeper waters of their failing relationship.
They hadn’t talked since Janie had left their home a week ago.
Amber returned with Janie’s wine. “Are you ready to order?” she asked, looking mostly at Janie.
“We need five more minutes,” Solo said.
Amber gave a minimal smile and went to attend another table.
Solo flipped open the menu. “Any idea what’s good here?”
“Austin said that the chef is known for her fish dishes.” Janie looked into her wine glass as she spoke, then she took a sip.
“Austin?” Solo clenched her jaw, knowing she’d failed to keep the edge of distaste from her tone.
Janie hadn’t said outright that the guy she’d been talking to was also the new guy at her law firm.
But there was something about the way she said his name that made Solo itch.
“Austin from work?” She stared at Janie, but her wife didn’t meet her gaze, seemingly fascinated with the cutlery in much the same way as Solo had initially been.
“Yes,” Janie whispered and finally looked up. “And yes, we’re making progress with Rosie’s loan. Amanda sent correspondence to—”
“Is Austin the reason you left us?” It wasn’t the question Solo wanted to ask, but it was one she needed the answer to.
Janie frowned before she took another long drink of her wine. “Of course not.”
Solo raised her eyebrows and scoffed. “Of course not,” she repeated. “Why would I think that?” She sat back in her seat and tugged at her suddenly too-tight tie.
Janie narrowed her eyes. “Please don’t use that tone. You know how it gets to me.”
“You know what gets to me?” Solo tapped two fingers on their table. “When my wife starts talking to a guy and then moves into the guest room, and I’m supposed to believe the two things aren’t related.” She nodded. “Yep, that’s what gets to me.”
Janie looked around and offered a small smile to the people at other tables who were flicking irritated glances their way.
They were probably out for date night. Or maybe they were on their first date and had the whole exciting journey of discovery to look forward to.
And then…this. Heartbreak. And accusations. And cheating.
“I already told you: Austin is just a friend,” Janie whispered. “He was nice to me when I needed someone to talk to.”
Janie’s words wounded Solo like they were rocks she’d thrown at Solo’s heart. “You were supposed to talk to me,” she said, her voice cracking but still too loud for the intimate space.
Janie glanced quickly at the other tables again, and Solo noticed the sympathetic looks she received in return.
Sure, Solo was the bad guy here, just like always.
The immature kid who couldn’t handle an adult conversation about their relationship without getting defensive.
The stupid soldier who should never have been blessed with Janie for even a moment, let alone had five years with her.
“This was a bad idea,” Janie said quietly and pushed her wine glass away. “I need to leave.”
Solo shook her head and scoffed. “Is that why you suggested meeting here? So you could leave if it got hard? Like you’ve left me and the girls because that’s too hard?”
Janie pushed away from the table and stood as she gathered her purse. “No, it wasn’t.”
Her eyes were hard and distant, a look Janie always adopted when they argued.
And it killed Solo this time just as it had every time in the past. She’d caused it though, like she’d caused most of their issues.
What the hell was she doing? All the shit she’d just said… Where the hell had it come from?
Solo stood and grasped Janie’s wrist lightly. “Please don’t go. I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I didn’t mean any of that.”
Janie looked at Solo’s hand then touched her gently to remove it. She smiled, and her eyes softened slightly. “Yes. You did, Hannah. You meant every word.”
Solo released Janie’s hand, and her shoulders sagged. The temper she’d always had trouble controlling had fucked her over again. “I’m going to therapy,” she blurted out, as if that would convince Janie to retake her seat. “Hear me out. Please.”
Janie blinked, and tears tracked down her cheeks, streaking them with black mascara. “You’re angry, honey. We’ve never been able to communicate when you’re like this.” She took a step back and seemed to hesitate, then she turned and walked away.
Solo had always enjoyed watching Janie leave, enjoyed the soft, swinging sashay of her hips.
But that wasn’t the feeling ripping through her right now.
This was the same desperate and devastating pain as it had been when she’d watched Janie drag her suitcase out of the house a week ago, and steel wire constricted around her heart, almost stopping it from pulsing.
Its rhythm beat for Janie. Without her, what was the point?
Solo swallowed hard and dropped back into her seat.
What the hell had happened to the plan?