Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
I give him a bright smile. “You didn’t.” Lie. “Now go, man, for the love of God.”
He nods again and turns away.
“Oh, Colin?” I call, unable to resist.
He gives me a look over his shoulder, and I smile even wider. “Briefs, huh? That’s adorable.”
He slams the guest room door.
Chapter 18
Saturday, September 5
A minute later, I’m almost regretting my decision to send Colin after his woman.
It’s not that I’m eavesdropping. It’s just with the way Rebecca is yelling, it’s literally impossible not to hear her entire side of the conversation, even with my door shut.
“Well, what the hell am I supposed to think?” she shouts. “I come over here to see if you want to grab breakfast, and both of you are in your underwear? And then instead of reassuring me, you chase after her.”
My mouth drops open. Underwear! These are pajamas, thank you very much. Little ones, admittedly, but trust me, had I opened the door in my actual underwear, she probably wouldn’t have stuck around long enough to yell at him.
I hope she wraps up her tantrum soon though. My coffee’s out there.
I pace the tiny confines of my bedroom and try to force myself to process everything without the benefit of my usual caffeine amounts.
Colin’s engaged.
He’s been engaged.
This.
Entire.
Time.
I’m not holding the actual engagement against him. We’re not actually married in the way that counts.
But it, um, would have been nice to know. Preferably before I started having sexy thoughts about him. Before I let myself have the crazy thought that maybe, just maybe my brother might have been right about his theory of Colin and me being good for each other …
“What’d you do, fuck her in a bed of flower petals?” Rebecca shrieks, her voice closer now, clearly having seen the flowers on Colin’s bed.
I wince. Yeeeeah. That whole situation probably doesn’t look good for Colin. Good luck explaining that one, husband.
I stand still for a moment hoping to overhear Colin’s response, but his voice is merely a low murmur through the closed door, and I can’t make out any actual words.
I pick up my cell phone and tap the corner against my bottom lip, debating my next move. I could—probably should—simply wait for Colin to give me the full story, but at the rate Rebecca’s going at him, that could take a while, and I want answers now.
I deserve answers, damn it. I don’t expect the man to tell me every detail of his life, but we’re in this whole married mess together. Something as massive as his second wife waiting in the wings is sort of a crucial detail.
I decide to send a quick text message to Meghan, because of all my friends, she’s the most plugged into the downtown social scene, and, thanks to our wine-fueled reunion, she knows that things between Colin and me are tricky. Plus, she has a toddler. The chances of her being awake early on a Saturday are better than my still-single friends.
My message is brief and to the point. Do you know anything about Colin hanging out with a Rebecca?
Meghan replies immediately, bless her. Tall? Red hair? Pretty in a scary, vaguely plastic way?
That’s her.
Rebecca Hale. Lawyer at the same firm as Colin. Officially, they’re colleagues.
My stomach feels icky as I reply. And unofficially?
Rumors. Nothing substantiated, but they do seem to show up at a lot of the same events and leave at the same time.
The nausea increases. I know I can’t judge him. I have no grounds to be mad. I don’t get to play the betrayed wife card, because I’m not his wife. Not in the way that matters. And as I’ve said, I’ve had plenty of flirtations of my own over the years.
But this isn’t a flirtation. The woman introduced herself as his fiancée. He proposed to her. To her. She’s not even nice. To be fair, I don’t really know her—maybe she’s a doll deep down, but I can at least attest that she makes a horrendous first impression.
How is it that he can’t stand me, but he loves her?
Does he love her? He must, if he proposed, but … God does that ever make me feel queasy.
I take a deep breath and try to think about it the way he would—all rationally and robot-like. I suppose, if my emotional chip was damaged like his, he and Rebecca make sense. It’s probably nice for Colin to find someone who shares his affliction for having something stuck up his ass.
My phone buzzes again with a message from Meghan. Why do you ask?
Oh, no reason. She’s just in his bedroom.
Long story, I text back. Drinks this week?
She texts back. Definitely. I’m here if you need to talk.
I send a thank you text back, knowing that Meghan’s probably got it in her head that Colin’s cheating and I suppose technically he is. Non-technically, I have no reason to be upset, no reason to be jealous, and yet, well, here I am stomping around my room like an actual wife.