Chapter 32 #2
“You look like the couch won,” Hannah says, amused.
She’s not wrong. “It did.” She hands me the cream.
Her fingers brush mine. “I was just telling Maggie that my flight’s at four.
Thought maybe we could grab a late lunch before I go?
” I nod, clearing my throat. “Yeah, sure. I’ve got a site thing with Josh this morning, but I’ll be back in time. ”
“Great.” She smiles. “The girls would love that.” I sit there for a few more minutes, nodding at whatever Maggie’s talking about. But my head’s already halfway across town.
I text her as I pull up to the boutique hotel.
Me: Headed in. Need me to pick you up?
Olivia: Already on my way. See you there.
She rolls in five minutes later in a navy sundress, hair windblown, coffee in one hand like she owns the damn day. She steps out of her car, and I don’t even hesitate—I walk right up, wrap my arms around her waist, and kiss her.
She melts into it for half a second, then pulls back, blinking like I short-circuited her. “What was that for?”
She watches me for a beat. “You, okay?”
I almost tell her. About last night. About how Hannah kissed me, how I kissed her back before pulling away.
I nearly say the thing I haven’t admitted out loud: that I’m confused as hell, and tired, and the guilt is eating me alive.
How is it that I feel guilty for kissing my wife, but I don’t regret a single thing that has happened with Olivia?
This doesn’t make sense. But love doesn’t have to make sense, right?
She’s been through enough, so I lie. “I’m just really happy to see you.” She nods and smiles.
We get to work. Audrey sent over some spreadsheets. We discussed the site plans, and Olivia checked the vendor’s requirements. They give me headaches.
By noon, I check my watch. “I need to head back. Grabbing lunch with the girls and Hannah. I’m taking her to the airport after.” Olivia nods without looking up. “Of course. Go.”
When I get home, I hear Hannah before I see her. “No, that’s unacceptable. You’ve had me on hold for thirty minutes, and now you’re telling me there’s no other flight out today?”
She’s pacing the hall barefoot in yoga pants and a tank, damp hair twisted up, skin still flushed from the shower. “What’s going on?” I ask.
“Flight’s canceled. Storm system over the city.
Nothing out till tomorrow.” She’s clearly pissed.
“I’ve been trying everything. I might have to stay another night.
” I pull out my phone. “Let me check.” She’s right.
Since nothing is going out today, I booked her the earliest flight for tomorrow and texted Olivia.
Me: Change of plans. Hannah’s flight got canceled. She’s staying one more night. Booked her for one tomorrow. Sorry.
Olivia: Totally understand. Thanks for the update.
That’s it. No emoji. No extra word. But I can read it.
Reminder: Beer Tasting with Josh she doesn’t even like it like this. But she hasn’t stopped me. Which means she wants to prove something, and I might let her.
I start touching her, but I stop. “Hannah, I love you, but I don’t know if we should…
” She kisses me harder, pulls me closer, and whispers, “Just fuck me, Ethan, don’t think, don’t talk.
” The table is about to collapse, so I grab her and throw her onto the couch.
She smiles at me, and that undoes me. I get on top of her and start touching her.
Grabbing her breasts, biting her nipples, she’s losing it.
“Please, I want you inside,” she says, pulling me closer, and I do.
I slide into her, and it’s everything I remember—heat, tightness, that overwhelming wave that used to mean love.
Now it just feels like drowning, but I love it.
She gasps my name, and it clutches me like I’m something worth keeping.
I hold her hips like I’m trying to convince myself of the same.
She feels so good that for a second, I forget everything and give it all to her.
Because she deserves this, she deserves it all.
I stay there for a second, after we’re finished, my forehead pressed to hers, both of us still catching our breath. My stomach’s already turning. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. Well, I wasn’t. That’s the problem. Her fingers comb through my hair gently, like nothing’s broken. And I can’t even look her in the eye.