Fix Her Up (Hot & Hammered #1)(102)

So why was she still standing there on her aching feet?

Rosie set the perfume bottle down on the Clinique counter and sent the man a wobbly smile. “How long have I been working here?” She laughed under her breath. “Too long.”

The man laughed, seeming grateful that she’d broken the wedding ring tension. “Yeah, I can relate.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I should get moving . . .”

He trailed off but made no move to leave. It took Rosie a tick to realize he was gauging her interest level, even though she was married. With a quick intake of breath, she nodded. “Have a nice night.”

Rosie stood there long after the man left, still trapped in that out-of-body feeling. Whose life was this, indeed? In a few minutes, she would clock out from a job she hated and go home to a too-quiet house. A horribly, painfully quiet house where she would orbit around Dominic like they might catch fire if they make eye contact. Where had everything gone wrong?

She didn’t know. But twenty-seven was too young to settle for unhappiness. Discontent. Hell, any age was too old for that. If she’d learned anything since helping form the Just Us League, it was that when a woman made a goal, she could reach it. Step one had been admitting she still wanted to open the restaurant. Step two had been validating that dream by letting the club sample her famous empanadas. Step three was . . . letting go. Running with her dream and facing the daunting possibility of failure.

Rosie swallowed hard. Okay, perhaps she wasn’t quite ready for step three.

Perhaps she needed to correct another, more troubling aspect of her life first.

Dominic.

“I think I’m done,” she whispered, the words swallowed up in elevator music, the sounds of cash drawers being pulled from registers and gates being pulled down at the entrances to Haskel’s. Likewise, gates were coming down around a heart that was broken every time she passed through the living room and didn’t receive so much as a hello, how are you.

I love you.

When was the last time she’d heard those words out of her husband’s mouth?

She couldn’t even remember.

She couldn’t even remember.

Dominic knew about her dream. Knew it had been rekindled. Yet he’d done nothing to encourage her. He let her walk out of the house in cheap pumps every day to go spray people with perfume, even though she gave every indication it made her miserable. If she had more courage, she would tell Zelda where to stick a bottle of Le Squirt Bon Bon. That bravery was missing, though. It had been for way too long.

Maybe Dominic was the reason she couldn’t make the leap to step three of her aspirations. His lack of faith and encouragement—his utter lack of acknowledgment—was holding her back. She’d become content to waste away in this perfume purgatory.

What happened to us? We used to love so hard. We used to be a team.

With a chest full of crushed glass, Rosie leaned over the counter and checked the clock. Ten. She’d made it another day. Her marriage wouldn’t.