Chapter 17 The Favor
THE FAVOR
Jesse
It was driving him mad, watching Milo and Eliana grow closer, day by day, right before his very eyes. And yet, anytime he tried to voice his concerns, it quickly devolved into a battle about trust and respect.
It was like Eliana was purposefully refusing to acknowledge his concerns.
She would deflect, redirect, or distract.
In many of their arguments, when she began speaking slowly and purposefully, he’d get the distinct impression that she was trying to make a point that he was missing entirely.
But by the time he caught on to the fact that her words seemed to convey deeper meaning, she’d be moving on with an eye roll—telling him there was nothing to worry about.
An obvious lie, meant to placate and brush him aside.
It was infuriating. It was suspicious. What could she be hiding?
The first time Jesse had caught her smiling at a text, he’d waited for her to fall asleep before getting up in the night to check her phone, feeling like a paranoid teenager.
But the texts she exchanged with Milo were innocent, all about work plans and clients.
The line she must’ve been smiling at was simply a compliment on the notes she’d taken that day.
It was such a simple thing for her to have looked so damn happy.
For such a basic compliment? Was that really all it took?
Jesse racked his brain, trying to remember the last time he’d gotten a smile like that.
He’d complimented her just the other morning, telling her that she looked hot when she’d stepped out of the shower.
All he’d gotten for his efforts was an eye roll as she stalked into the closet and snapped the door shut.
Jesse didn’t know what to do. He knew Eliana was mad about his response to her new job, but every time he brought up Milo—she treated it like his concerns were just another excuse to prevent her from working.
She didn’t understand. She didn’t realize how often men thought about sex, how instinctual it was. And from that very first encounter at the festival, he’d been alarmed by the ease that existed between her and Milo, the familiarity in Milo’s words. He would have been a fool not to be.
He’d noticed their inside jokes and easy laughter when Milo would drop her off after work.
He’d noticed her excitement in the morning, and the soft smiles that warmed her expression when Milo would knock on the door.
But more than anything else, Jesse noticed the look in Milo’s eyes.
He recognized it. For it was the same look he would find reflected in his own gaze if he were to check a mirror in Eliana’s presence. Desire. Interest.
Jesse just wanted things to return to the way they were.
He hated the distance that had grown between them.
Hated how long it had been since they’d slept together.
He was lonely. He missed his wife. The guilt over what he’d done with Bea was eating him alive, and he craved the connection that he shared with Eliana.
Needed it like his next breath. He was done with Bea.
Eliana was everything to him, and he was dedicated to repairing the rift between them.
But even though he’d apologized for snapping at her after the festival, Eliana continued to treat him as nothing more than a roommate—his words holding no weight in her decisions.
He was almost certain that she was having an affair.
If not already, then soon. And now she wanted to go away, for the entire weekend, as if Jesse couldn’t see the trip for what it truly was—what Milo undoubtedly wanted it to be.
Scenes of cozy dinners, sipping wine, petals on the bed, they rose swiftly to his mind’s eye, making his stomach turn.
It was a trip she’d sprung on him only two days ago, when he’d asked if she wanted to go on a date that Saturday—which had then prompted a fresh fight, all on its own.
“I didn’t think I had to schedule with you. I knew you’d be home. You never give me a heads up,” she’d said.
But he didn’t have to warn her. He was the main breadwinner. His job’s demands would always take priority over weekend plans. He could never say those things, however, because pointing out the importance of his job had never worked out in his favor in previous arguments.
“I don’t understand why I can’t come,” Jesse grunted instead, idly scratching his elbow and watching Eliana as she darted around the room, packing her suitcase.
“It’s not some big conference with things for you to do,” Eliana answered, as unbothered as if she were telling him the weekend’s weather forecast. “It’s a client workshop specifically for Milo’s business.
And he only chose this weekend in the first place to work around my schedule.
Making sure it was a weekend you would be available to watch the girls. ”
“I could just bring the girls, and we could all share a hotel room.” The thought planted itself as he said it, quickly growing roots.
He could take the girls out during the day while Eliana was busy for some daddy-daughter time.
Abby and Zoey made everything fun, and it had been far too long since he’d shared an entire day with them—and just them.
He missed it. And then he’d be right there when the sun set, to interrupt any potential funny business from occurring.
Maybe he could even use the opportunity to repair some of the damage that lingered between them.
But then, Eliana turned, her hands on her hips. “Why would you do that? I’ve never gone with you on a work trip.”
“That’s different.”
“It’s not different in the least. It’s just not fun being the parent stuck at home. Welcome to my life.”
Jesse’s jaw dropped, offended at the accusation that he was trying to get out of spending time with his two favorite people on the planet. “It’s not about me watching the girls!”
“Well, if it’s not about you staying here, then it’s about me going.” Eliana’s hands were animated as she spoke, her glare fierce. “So it’s just the fact that you don’t trust me? Why would you not? Have I ever done anything untrustworthy?”
“I do trust you! I just don’t trust . . .”
“Milo,” Eliana supplied. “What a cliché. Are you going to hit me with a ‘you’re taking it the wrong way’ now? As if I have no willpower of my own and am simply a whore to Milo’s desires?”
He opened his mouth, then shut it, having been about to say that exact phrase.
Eliana took a deep breath, a knowing look tightening the corners of her eyes, before she cast a nervous glance at the bedroom door and lowered her tone.
“When I questioned you about your phone, you asked me to trust you. Every time you’ve gone on a trip, I’ve trusted you.
I’ve trusted you to provide for our family.
I’ve trusted you to be faithful. Why is it so difficult for you to offer me that same trust? ”
He swallowed hard against the retort on his tongue, drowning in the weight of his remorse, his fear and anxiety, his anger over knowing he’d lost. A foreboding feeling made his throat feel tight—telling him that he’d lost much more than just this one disagreement.
So when she gave the girls kisses at the door a few hours later, Jesse watched, feeling disgruntled and forgotten.
Jealous of the attention his own daughters were getting.
Especially when she only offered him a perfunctory peck to his cheek, a display he realized was only for the girls’ benefit.
She turned and walked to the car where Milo waited, a smug grin on his lips.
Jesse watched as Milo bent down to mumble something to her, and he saw the quick smile she flashed him.
He watched as Milo took her bag, settling it into the trunk.
And he watched as Milo guided her around to the passenger door, a hand on her lower back, before opening the door with a flourish and making her giggle.
It was so fucking obvious.
Jesse’s chest tightened, his fists clenching, but Abby and Zoey’s presence kept his feet planted—trapped and forced to endure the cozy scene.
Eliana gave one final wave before ducking down into the car. Milo shut the door and began walking back around, but a moment before opening his own door, he glanced back up at Jesse and . . . winked.
The motherfucker winked at him.
Rage rose, clouding Jesse’s vision in a red haze, but then Milo was pulling out of the drive, the girls were waving, and Eliana was gone. He wanted to call and demand she come back, but she’d never believe him.
She’d just say that he was imagining it. That Milo would never.
Jesse scoffed.
She had Milo so far up on this fucking pedestal—all because he’d given her a fucking job. Sticking his fucking nose where it didn’t belong, sniffing around Jesse’s fucking wife.
He was so fucking confident. So sure of himself. A man like him would never think that his life could be flipped just as easily. That his wife could be swayed.
A desire for revenge rose quickly within Jesse, bitter and dark. He didn’t even want Bea. He wanted his own damn wife. But if he couldn’t have what he wanted . . . then he could at least return the favor.