Chapter 64
HARLEY
Debbie is prompt. I have to give her that.
She shows up at exactly six o’clock. She’s well dressed in a cream-colored blouse paired with a light pink skirt and chunky heels.
She looks ready to go to a business meeting, except that her hair has come slightly undone from the bun she must’ve tied it into earlier today.
It’s falling in tendrils around her face, and not cute, stylish tendrils.
She’s too old to look so disheveled—she can’t pull it off.
“Hi, Debbie,” I say brightly.
“Hi, Harley.” She smiles warmly at me. “Sorry I didn’t bring anything. I’ve been on the road.”
“No worries.”
I lean in for a brief hug, and while she hugs me back, she seems stiff. We’ve gotten in the habit of hugging at the beginning or end of seeing each other, but it feels different this time. It feels like she doesn’t want to touch me.
Is it possible that she knows?
No. She doesn’t know. She wouldn’t come here and smile at me if she knew I was sleeping with her husband. Who would do that?
“Is there anything I can do to help in the kitchen?” she asks me.
I almost suggest that she help me chop the salad, but then I think better of giving her a knife. “No, I’ve got it under control.”
She follows me to the kitchen so I can tend to my pasta and finish up with the vegetables. She stands there for a moment, watching me.
“That’s a lot of food,” she comments.
“Actually,” I say, “I invited another guest to join us. Someone I’d like you to meet.”
“Really?” She looks intrigued as she leans against the kitchen counter. “Who is it?”
“It’s my boyfriend.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Harley! I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Who is he?”
“He’s a great guy,” I say honestly. “I met him at the gym, and we just connected. Like, soulmates, you know? He’s a bit older than me, but he’s really hot.” I wink at her. “We can’t keep our hands off each other when we’re together.”
“Wow.” She blinks at me. “That’s so fantastic. How long have you been seeing him?”
“A few months, but it feels like it’s getting serious. He told me he’s falling in love with me.”
“Oh my gosh,” she says. “That’s so great. I’m so happy for you.”
“I’m glad to hear you feel that way.”
She adjusts her purse, which is still hanging off her shoulder, even though she’s been here several minutes. I don’t know why she doesn’t put it down. “What does your dream guy do for a living?”
“He’s an accountant.”
“Oh!” She looks surprised. “Like Cooper.”
“Right,” I say meaningfully. “Like Cooper.”
I let that hang in the air for a moment. An older guy who does the same job as your husband. Hint, hint.
“Well,” she says, “I’m excited to meet him.”
I rummage around in the refrigerator, coming up with a bottle of oil and vinegar salad dressing. I tried to find the miso ranch at the supermarket, but no luck. “Is this okay?”
“Sure, whatever is fine.”
I unscrew the bottle of dressing and release a few dollops of it onto the salad. They land wetly. “There is one thing about my boyfriend that isn’t entirely ideal.”
“Oh?”
I take a deep breath, watching her expression. “He’s…he’s married.”
“Oh.” She puts her hand on her chest. “Separated?”
“No, he’s still with his wife.”
“Oh!” she says again, this time with a hint of judgment in her voice. “Well, that’s not good.”
“But it’s barely a marriage.” I still have my eyes on her face, watching for signs of recognition. “They don’t even sleep together anymore. They barely talk.” Sound familiar, Debbie? “He says he would have left her years ago, but she’s, you know, emotionally fragile.”
If Debbie recognizes that I’m talking about her marriage, she doesn’t show it.
“He could be lying,” she says diplomatically.
“I don’t think he is.”
“Men lie.” She drums her fingernails on the kitchen counter. “Men do terrible things.”
There’s an ominous look in her eyes, and for a moment, I think maybe she does know. Maybe she knows everything, and maybe she’s known for a long time.
Slowly, I move the knife I was using to chop the salad out of the way. I swallow a lump in my throat and attempt to smile, but my lips feel rubbery. Maybe this whole thing was a mistake. Maybe confronting Debra Mullen with her cheating husband was not such a great idea.
But then the doorbell rings, and it’s too late to turn back.
“That must be him,” I say in what sounds like an abnormally high-pitched voice.
I push past Debbie, walking in the direction of the front door. She follows at my heels, and as my heart speeds up, all my reservations vanish. This is it. This is what I’ve been waiting for. One way or another, we are going to rip off this Band-Aid.
When I pull open the door, Cooper is standing there in the doorway. He’s wearing a dress shirt from work that day, although he has sweat dotting the collar slightly, which makes me think he came directly from the gym. But that’s okay—I love him all hot and sweaty.
“Hi, Cooper,” I say in a husky voice that makes it clear what our relationship is.
He starts to reply, but then his gaze moves past me, over my shoulder, and falls on Debbie. All the blood drains from his face, and he takes a step back.
“What are you doing here?” he gasps.
A smile touches Debbie’s lips, although she still has that dark look in her eyes that sends a chill down my spine.
“Hello, Jesse,” she says.