About That Fling (16 page)

“It’s not just
my
feelings I’m worried about.”

He nodded. There was no arguing with that, even though he wanted to. Even though part of him raged with the urge to yell that he gave up caring about his ex-wife’s feelings the second he signed the divorce papers.

But most of him knew that wasn’t true. As much as he hated it, as much as he no longer cared for her that way, the ghost of her silent judgment would always be hanging over him. Every career choice he made, every romantic entanglement he entered, it would forever be filtered through a fleeting question of what Mia might think. He hoped it might fade with time or a new relationship, but a whisper of it would probably always echo in his mind.

It wasn’t the same hesitation Jenna had, but it was still there.

“Understood,” he said at last, even though that wasn’t entirely true. “Good night, Jenna.”

He leaned in to kiss her, and there was something more gentle about it this time. A breath of longing and sadness about what could never happen between them.

When they drew apart, her eyes glittered brighter than before. “Goodbye,” she whispered.

On Sunday morning, Jenna set the table with Aunt Gertie’s good china.

“I’m so glad this is becoming a tradition,” Gertie said, stirring a big pot of gravy on the stove. “What time did you say Mia would be here?”

“A few minutes after nine,” Jenna said, smoothing the corner of a blue and white checked placemat before she set the plate down. “Mark had something to do for work, so Mia had to take Katie to her mom’s house.”

Jenna folded a napkin with a more severe crease than it needed, wondering if Mia would stop and chat with Ellen. She knew the relationship wasn’t great between the two women, but Mia always tried. What if Ellen mentioned seeing Jenna and Adam together? Would Mia buy the cover story about team-building prep, or should she come up with something else?

The fact that she was giving so much thought to hiding something from her best friend sent a fresh wave of guilt surging through her, and she gripped the counter to hold herself steady. God, maybe she should just tell Mia everything. It had to be better than lying, didn’t it?

“Everything okay, dear?”

Jenna turned to her aunt. “Sure, why?”

“You just seem distracted. Is there anything you want to talk about?”

The fact that I’m falling for my best friend’s ex-husband? The fact that you’re a bestselling erotica author and I’m afraid the scandal could cause labor negotiations to blow up in my face? The fact that I slept with the mediator my employer is counting on to bail us out of the worst personnel disaster in the company’s history?

“Nope, nothing,” she said, and turned to place a fork neatly beside Gert’s spot at the table.

The doorbell rang, and Jenna set the last piece of silverware atop her own placemat. She smoothed her hair as she crossed the living room, feeling oddly self-conscious as she opened the door to greet her best friend.

“Hey, chica,” Jenna said, leaning in for an air-kiss. “How are things going?”

Mia’s hair was rumpled and her cheeks seemed flushed from something besides the glow of pregnancy. She sighed and walked into the house, her steps heavy and slow. She set her purse on the table by the door and moved toward the kitchen clutching a bright blue bowl filled with fruit salad. Jenna fell into step beside her, trying to read her best friend’s mood.

“Gawd, what a morning,” Mia said, setting the bowl on the table. She turned to lean against the kitchen counter near the spot where Aunt Gertie was setting a baking sheet lined with biscuits. “I walked Katie up to the door with a bunch of extra tomatoes from our garden. She’s been gobbling them up all weekend, and I thought Ellen might like to have some, you know?”

Jenna bit her lip. “You talked to Ellen?”

“No. She didn’t even come to the door. Not even when Katie called after her and said I wanted to say hello. She just yelled from the back of the house for Katie to give back the tomatoes and say her goodbyes.”

Any relief Jenna might have felt over the near miss was replaced by a sense of sadness for her friend. “I’m sorry, Mia. I know how hard you’ve been trying.”

“It’s okay.” She pasted on a smile and pushed away from the counter, reaching over to hug Aunt Gertie. “Everything smells delicious. What can I help with? Need me to stir the gravy or put the biscuits in a basket or something?”

“Sit down, sweetheart,” Gert said, waving her toward a chair. “Goodness, you look like you’re about to burst.”

Mia seemed ready to argue, but she cast a look down at her ankles. “Thanks, you’re right. I swear, I’m running out of shoes that can fit. Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me about all the swelling?” She dropped heavily into a chair. “Thanks, you two. I’m so happy to be here right now.”

“Are you okay, dear?” Gertie frowned as she began piling the biscuits into a wooden bowl lined with a crisp gingham cloth. “You look a little worn out. Is something bothering you besides the run-in with Katie’s mom?”

Mia picked up a grape that had fallen from the fruit salad bowl and rolled it around between her fingers. “It’s been a rough weekend.”

Jenna grabbed the biscuit bowl and tucked the cloth around the edges, covering everything carefully before carrying it to the table. “What’s going on?”

“It’s Mark. Things have been—strained lately.”

“How do you mean?”

“We’re having trouble with boundaries,” Mia said, setting the grape down and fiddling with the tines on her fork. “I don’t think it’s unreasonable to put limits on how often Ellen calls, or at least on how often he answers the phone.”

Gert frowned and began ladling the gravy into a bowl. “Are they talking about Katie?”

“That’s just it—I’d totally understand if they needed to talk about grades or soccer camp or dentist appointments or even how Katie is doing with friends. Believe me, I get it. I married a guy with a kid, and I know that will always be a priority.”

Gertie started to carry the gravy to the table, but Jenna headed her off and picked up the bowl. She set it down in front of Mia, then turned to grab a spoon for Mia’s fruit salad. “So what’s different about these calls?” Jenna asked.

“Mark answers them all the time,” Mia said. “Even if we’re on a date. Even if we’re in the middle of family movie night or being intimate.”

Gert’s eyes went wide as she lowered herself into the seat beside Mia. “He talks to his ex-wife during sex?”

“Well, not during sex. I mean the sex stops so he can answer the phone. He’s not pumping away while they chat about curfews and college plans.”

Jenna grimaced as she shoved a serving spoon into the fruit bowl, then took a seat between Mia and Gert. “Have you talked with him about how it bothers you?”

“I tried.” Mia bit her lip and reached out to take a biscuit. “He said he feels guilty.”

“Guilty?” Jenna watched her friend’s face, remembering Adam’s words. Had more than one marriage been wrecked by the affair? Did it matter at this point? It’s not like Mia owed her a detailed explanation or justification for her every action.

“About not being married to Katie’s mother anymore,” Mia said. “About breaking up the family when he chose to leave. About a lot of things, I guess. ‘Daddy guilt.’ That’s what one of the books I read called it.”

Jenna grabbed a biscuit for herself and split it open, breathing the doughy fragrance of buttermilk. “How long had they been divorced when you and Mark got together?”

Mia bit her lip as she opened her own biscuit. “They’d been divorced a year or so. I know Ellen hoped they’d get back together, but Mark wasn’t interested.”

Gert pushed the bowl of gravy across the table, nudging the ladle toward Mia. “These things are always hard. It doesn’t really matter who did what to whom on which timeline. The point is that you’re all where you are right now, and you have to find a way to work together to move forward.”

Jenna nodded and watched as Mia slathered her biscuit with gravy. She passed the bowl along to Gert, while Jenna loaded her plate with fruit.

“You’re right, of course,” Mia said. “But sometimes I try to think about it from Ellen’s perspective. How would I feel if someone just moved in and took over my husband and my life?”

Gert helped herself to a biscuit. “Has your ex-husband remarried?”

Jenna gripped her glass of orange juice, but didn’t raise it to her lips. The guilt felt like a lead weight pressing down on her chest, smothering her with its bulk.

“No,” Mia said with a shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know how I’d feel about it if he did. I know that’s horrible and selfish and petty and stupid, especially since I was the one who left.”

Gert patted Mia’s hand, oblivious to the fact that her niece had grown tense enough to generate electrical currents. “You’re entitled to your feelings, dear.”

Mia shook her head. “It’s not that I’m possessive of him. Adam, I mean. That’s not it at all. It’s that I wanted so badly for so long for him to make these changes for me. To stop working late hours, to do a better job communicating with me, to try new things and be more spontaneous. So what does it say if he’s willing to do all that for someone else, but not me?”

Jenna took a big gulp of orange juice and hoped no one noticed her hands were shaking. She set the glass down and tried to think of something innocuous to say.

Gert beat her to the punch. “Maybe it’s not about you,” she said. “Maybe someone has to want to change for themselves.”

“You’re right, of course.” Mia sighed and took a bite of biscuit. “I can know that rationally, but it still doesn’t make it any easier to sit with the feelings.” She shook her head and gave a funny little laugh. “Listen to me, I sound like our marriage counselor.”

“You’re seeing a marriage counselor?” Jenna asked. “I didn’t realize things had gotten to that point.”

“I know, lame, right? We’ve only been married a couple weeks and we’re already in counseling.” She shrugged and took another bite of biscuit. “I guess it’s more of a preemptive thing. We’ve both been through counseling in the past when it was way too late to do any good. We’re trying to get a handle on problems now before things escalate.”

Jenna nodded, thinking about what Adam told her about marriage counseling being about saying hello or saying goodbye. She hoped for Mia’s sake they were saying hello.

“I ran into Sean the other night,” Jenna blurted, hoping the subject change wasn’t too abrupt. “Speaking of exes.”

“Wow, it’s been a while, huh?” Mia took a sip of orange juice. “How was it?”

“Weird. Awkward. But it felt good to catch up.”

Mia nodded, eyeing her closely, and Jenna felt a flicker of fear she could see right through her. “You didn’t sleep with him, did you?” Mia asked. “There’s something a little glowy about you this morning.”

“Glowy?” Jenna swallowed and shook her head. “No. Definitely not. Though I guess the thought crossed my mind.”

“No kidding? What stopped you?”

Jenna shrugged, already regretting her choice in subject change. “I just wasn’t feeling it.”

Gert nodded knowingly beside her. “Sean certainly must have been feeling something. He’s already called the home phone twice this morning.”

Jenna bit her lip. “Thanks for telling him I wasn’t here.”

“My pleasure, dear. You’re entitled to your feelings.”

“Or lack of feelings, as the case may be,” Mia said, stabbing another bite of biscuit. A blob of gravy dripped from her fork, and Mia jumped back in her chair.

“Dammit,” she said, plucking at the front of her shirt. “Would you look at that? I got gravy on my shirt. I swear these pregnancy boobs have screwed up my whole sense of where my body stops and starts.”

Jenna reached for the saltshaker. “Try this?”

Mia laughed and shook her head. “That’s just for wine, not grease. Though I’m glad to see my ex managed to teach you something.”

Jenna felt her face grow warm, and she set the shaker down. Gert stood up. “Let me grab the stain stick for you, dear.”

“Sit down, Aunt Gertie,” Mia said, lurching out of her chair. “You’ve done enough already. You’ve been on your feet all morning fixing this amazing breakfast. Just tell me where to find it and I’ll grab the stain stick.”

“Let me,” Jenna said, but Mia was already halfway down the hall.

“It’s in the laundry room in the basket next to the dryer,” Gertie called. “Just bring it back out here and I’ll help you work it into the stain.”

Mia disappeared around the corner, and Jenna turned to Aunt Gertie with a grimace. “You think she’s doing okay?”

Gertie shook her head. “Pregnancy hormones can really take a toll on a woman. I can’t say for myself, but I remember when your mother was pregnant with you, those last few months were especially hard.”

Jenna swallowed and tried not to let her brain go there. She’d never told Gert about her own miscarriage. About the reason she and Sean had split up or how everything fell apart—

“Hey, ladies?”

Mia’s voice echoed from the other end of the house, breaking Jenna’s train of thought. “Can’t find the stain stick?” Jenna called back, rising to her feet to aid her friend.

“No, it’s not that. Just wondering where this sweatshirt came from.”