Chapter 21
I know what you’re thinking. I’m a terrible person. A home-wrecker.
And you wouldn’t be wrong.
But the truth of the matter is that humans are not meant to be monogamous.
Especially men. Biologically, they have a compulsion to spread their seed to as many women as possible.
And also biologically, Debbie is past her childbearing years, whereas Cooper, at forty-six years old, has many reproductive years ahead of him.
Biologically, Cooper is designed to want me.
Cooper and I are lying together in bed. He has his arm around me, and we’re plastered together with sweat. He plants a kiss on my forehead, and it’s so sweet, it almost kills me that he’s going to have to run out of here in another few minutes.
“What if you stayed?” I suggest.
He lets out a pained sigh. “I wish I could. Believe me. Debbie and I are like strangers who are forced to live together.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“It is.” He swallows. “I was losing my mind until you came along, Harley. I wish I didn’t have to pretend anymore.”
“Then don’t. She doesn’t own you.”
“Uh, she sort of does.” Cooper holds up his left hand with the wedding ring on his fourth finger. “A divorce would be rough. She’d take everything.”
“Just half of everything.”
But Cooper shakes his head. I’ve dated a lot of married men, and I know they’ll tell me what they think I want to hear, but I truly believe he doesn’t love Debbie anymore.
He hasn’t in a long time. He’s been sleeping in the guest room for years, but he still can’t leave.
She’s not stable, and a divorce would send her off the deep end.
And now that I’ve gotten to know Debbie, I know what he means. The woman poisoned her neighbors after all.
It was not my intention to befriend the wife of the man I’m hooking up with.
I mean, I’m not a complete psychopath. But then one morning, I was talking to Cindy at the front desk of the gym, and a fortyish woman with a pleasant but somewhat angular face and hair pulled back into a neat ponytail swiped her card, and the name Debra Mullen popped up on the computer.
So of course, I was curious. I’m only human. It’s not like I went to her house and stalked her.
I’m not a stalker in general. But to be fair, Cooper is impossible to stalk. The man has no social media presence, which isn’t uncommon among men his age. When I couldn’t stalk him online, the only way to learn more about him was to do some real-life reconnaissance.
Even so, I just meant to have a conversation with her.
But every time she mentioned Cooper’s name, I found myself hanging on her every word.
She seemed to have no idea how much trouble her marriage was in.
Or else she was trying to hide it from me.
After all, you don’t go around telling strangers that you haven’t had sex with your husband in two years.
So I figured if we were better friends, she might be willing to confide in me about Cooper. That was when I invited her to get coffee with me.
One thing led to another, and suddenly we were getting coffee regularly, and then she was inviting me to her book club, and now suddenly we are best friends.
I get the feeling she doesn’t have a lot of friends, and the truth is, neither do I.
Cooper would be furious if he knew I was spending time with his wife, so I have been careful not to mention it.
At some point, this is going to blow up in my face. I can’t maintain my friendship with Debbie while sleeping with her husband. One day over dinner, Debbie is going to mention her new friend Harley to Cooper, and he’ll probably choke to death on a carrot or something.
Although maybe that’s what I want to happen. Well, not the choking on a carrot part. But I want Debbie to know that her husband is messing around behind her back. I want her to boot him out the door. Because when she does, he’ll come straight here.
My relationships with married men rarely end well. In fact, the last one, with a man named Edgar, blew up in my face quite spectacularly. But I’ve got a good feeling about Cooper Mullen.
Cooper extracts himself from my embrace and rolls out of bed. In the dim light of the bedroom, I watch him get dressed. He’s over a decade older than I am, but he’s in fantastic shape, and it’s all I can do to keep from pulling him back into bed. He could do better than Debbie. He must know that.
“Will you be back tomorrow?” I ask him.
I wait for the flash of annoyance on his face, but it never comes. “I’ll try to get away if I can.” Then he adds, “No promises.”
It’s not easy being the other woman. I know, I know, cry me a river, but it’s a hard life. We can’t be seen in public, and when all the major holidays roll around, I’m alone. Forget about double dates.
But very soon, I won’t be the other woman anymore.
Cooper is the one. The more time I spend with him, the more certain I am that it’s true. And very soon, Debbie will know it too.