Frayed Silk(40)

“Is that your boyfriend?” he sneers, causing my eyes to snap from his chest to his face.

“What?” I gape.

“You heard me.” He goes to walk out the door, and I run for it, slamming it closed and standing in front of it.

“Talk to me,” I pant, raising my eyes to study the light brown stubble, the slight dip in his straight nose, and the tiny, faint freckles that you can’t see unless you’re this close to him. It’s been so long since our faces have been this close together that I take in every detail I never knew I’d miss so painfully. Like the perfect symmetry of his sculpted cheekbones and the long dark brown lashes that fan over his ice blue eyes. Eyes that flare wide at our proximity. He takes a step back.

“Move,” he rasps.

I shake my head. “I saw the blood, Leo. I know you went to the Westbrook and found Jared.”

His top lip curls. “You would know, playing phone tag with each other like you have been.”

Glaring at him, I say, “No, I know because I found the blood on your shirt, you asshole. And yes, I called him to make sure he was okay. I won’t lie to you.”

He throws his head back with a humorless laugh, his biceps expanding as he lifts his arms to scrub his hands roughly over his face. “Shit,” he breathes. “My fucking wife had to call her boyfriend and make sure he was okay,” he says to his hands.

A growl rips from my throat. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah?” He drops his hands, taking a step closer to me.

I hold his gaze, not backing down from the anger and disbelief clouding over his eyes.

“A fuck buddy? Lover? What the fuck do you call what you’ve been doing with him then, wife?”

“Trying to feel like me again!” I yell and watch as all expression falls from his face. “Yeah, I’ve fucked up. But …” I point a finger at him. “I never lied to you. I fucking told you I wanted a divorce, and then I told you that I was having an affair.”

“I thought you were taunting me!” he yells.

“I was!” I yell back, my voice breaking. “I was,” I finish quietly.

He averts his gaze, rubbing at the stubble on his chin. “Please, just move.”

My chest heaves up and down at the same alarming rate as my heartbeat. And despite wanting to have this out, I know taking it any further tonight might just make things worse. So I reluctantly step aside.

“Don’t forget, our mothers are arriving tomorrow to take the kids,” I tell him before he shuts the door without saying another word.





After dropping the kids off at school the next morning, I make my way to the local shopping plaza to grab some groceries for tonight. Nerves set my emotions running in all different directions when I think about having to play happy family with my mom and Taylor. Especially with how Leo and I left things last night.

I woke up this morning and heard the shower running, so I assumed he’d stay for breakfast with the kids as he normally tries to make time to do. But he didn’t. By the time he was dressed and I was making breakfast, he was kissing the kids goodbye and walking out the door. Greta even asked me why Leo didn’t say goodbye to me. I didn’t know what to say, so I simply told her that he must’ve forgotten about me. Then tried not to laugh at how ridiculous that must have sounded even to a seven-year-old’s ears. Charlie was quiet; he’s getting too quiet. I think when they get home on Sunday, it’s time Leo and I sat down to have a talk with him and see how he’s doing.

I flick my turn signal on and pull into the parking lot, waiting for a car to back out before I drive into the now vacated spot. I jump out, reaching over the console to grab my purse then shut the door and adjust my baby pink lace sundress and cream cardigan. Walking through the automatic doors, I stop quickly at the butcher before making my way into the supermarket to grab the rest of the ingredients for tonight’s dinner, as well as some other things we need.

I get a cart and make my way through the aisles, grabbing milk, butter, vegetables, and some fruit before my phone rings in my purse. Stopping at the end of an aisle, I tilt my bag off my shoulder, digging through it and pulling my phone out.

Jared.

Christ, I can’t do this now. Not here. Can I? I’d planned on talking to him on Tuesday. But I guess I can’t keep ignoring his calls until then, especially with the way Leo reacted last night. Mind made up, I hit answer just before it goes to voicemail.

“Hey,” I say, moving into the next aisle and grabbing some cereal.

“Blondie,” he breathes. I hear a horn and the noise of the city from his end of the line. It sounds like he’s walking somewhere.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t talk. Things haven’t been great at home,” I admit quietly.

“What’s he done? Are you okay?” The worry is evident in his tone, despite the noise surrounding him.

I tuck some hair behind my other ear, eyeing the contents of my cart. “Yeah, I’m okay. I was hoping to talk to you on Tuesday.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Have you thought about it? About us?”

“I have.” Because I kind of have, but I’ve always known, and I’ve always told him this could go nowhere. “You know my answer, trouble.”

He sighs. “Shit. Don’t break my heart, babe.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it.