Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty-Six

PETER

I needed to stop thinking for a second. The decision I made next wasn't smart, but I wasn't entirely coherent. My usually clear thoughts were a foggy mess of worry, anger, rage, fear, exhaustion, and confusion. I needed clarity, and I tried to think of the last time I had true clarity.

That was how I found myself on Mallory's doorstep that evening, praying she was at home. I half expected her to ignore me when she came to the door, or worse yet, not remember me, but I had to try, and I couldn't chance reaching out to her on the app anymore.

I rapped my knuckles on the wood of the door, trembling with a mixture of excitement and nerves. I had no business being there. I wasn't oblivious to that fact. I just needed to feel something that wasn't worry for a few minutes, and being around Ainsley only made me feel more worried. More anxious. More—

"Gina?"

Gina stood in front of me wearing a black sports bra and yoga pants. Her hair was tied in a messy bun on top of her head, with sweat collecting around the edges of her temples. She furrowed her brow, looking at the Apple Watch on her wrist and back at me. I stepped off the stoop, looking at the house number and back at my car.

"What are you doing here?" we asked at the same time.

"I'm sorry, what are you doing here?" I repeated.

" I live here. What are you doing here?" she asked.

Before I could piece together what was happening, Mallory descended the stairs and appeared behind her, wearing lounge pants and a floral tank top. As soon as she saw me, a bright smile lit up her face.

"Hey you," she called. "What are you doing here?"

Gina spun around, staring at Mallory and jutting her thumb in my direction. "You know him?"

"Of course, I know him. Why else would he be here? Let him in, would you?" Mallory's smile faded. "Wait a second, you know him?"

"Can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?" I asked, coming across angrier than I'd meant to. At that point, it felt like the universe was playing one giant prank on me.

"Pete's my date," Mallory said. "From the other night."

Gina looked back at me, her brows raised. "Oh, he is, is he?"

"How do you know him?" Mallory was looking at me as she asked.

"We work together," she explained, crossing her arms. I recognized that look. It was the one I'd seen her give in meetings when things weren't going our way. It was hard to piss Gina off, but once you had, things got ugly fast.

"Mallory and I just met," I told her, trying to decide which one I needed to justify knowing.

"You were the one she had sneaking out of here the other night," she said. It wasn't a question.

"I had no idea you lived here. If I had, I would've never…" I trailed off, unsure how to finish that sentence.

"You don't owe me an explanation," she snipped.

"Okay, now I think I'm the one who needs someone to explain to me what's going on…" Mallory said. "What am I missing?"

"Nothing's going on," Gina said, shaking her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Absolutely nothing." She backed away before I could say anything—not that I was sure what I should say—and disappeared down the hall.

Mallory watched her go with wide eyes then looked back at me. "Sorry, did you two have a thing or something? She seems pissed."

"Not exactly." I sighed. "I'm-I'm sorry. I should go talk to her."

"Excuse me?"

I walked past her, knocking on the door I'd watched Gina disappear into. She opened it immediately, standing before me with a grim expression. "You don't have to explain, Peter. Truly, you don't. You don't owe me anything."

"But I want to, okay?" I said. "I care about you. I don't want you to get the wrong impression."

"I just…I can't. I don't have time for this. I didn't want messy or complicated. That was the whole point. That's what we talked about."

"I'm not trying to make things complicated for you."

"You're sleeping with my roommate," she said, her voice echoing down the hall. I heard Mallory walk out of the townhome, slamming the front door. Her eyes followed her then landed back on me.

"I slept with her once," I said. "Yes. You're right."

"And I'm guessing you came back today to do the same thing."

"I just…" I felt vulnerability creeping in. "I needed someone to talk to. Someone who wouldn't judge me."

"Is that what you want, Peter? To talk?"

I nodded as she tapped her fingers against the wood of the door, contemplating. She sighed and stepped back. "Come in."

I walked into her bedroom, shocked and relieved to see that it was triple the size of Mallory's and starkly opposite in hygiene. There were no plates of rotting food or piles of clothing lying around. Instead, the room was pristine. Her closet was neat and color coordinated, her bed made, desk with a laptop in the corner tidy and organized. To my surprise, I realized the room smelled like her. I hadn't realized I knew her scent until that moment, but being in that space, I was brought back to the office and the many times she'd leaned over to hand me a stack of papers or come near me to point to a place where I'd need to sign. It was warm and sweet, filling me with a strange sense of calm.

"Thank you," I said as she shut the door. She crossed her arms, staring at me as she waited for me to start saying whatever it was I needed to say. "First of all, I wanted to apologize again for ditching you in the middle of dinner the other night."

She didn't respond.

"Like I told you, there was an emergency at home, and I didn't have a choice… I had to rush. I was hoping to see you at work today so I could pay you back for the meals and explain better."

"I called out," she said. "Not because of you. I needed some time for myself."

"Sure… I totally understand," I said eagerly, pulling out my wallet. "How much was it? I want to cover both our meals."

She reached out, putting her hand over my wallet and pushing it away. "I don't want your money, Peter. I make practically the same salary as you, and I don't have a family to support. Trust me, I've got it."

"Well, I'd still like to pay."

"I don't want it," she said.

I felt myself growing warm with embarrassment. "Well, let me take you out again, then? To make up for it?"

A small smile grew on her lips, but she forced it back down, as if it had snuck up on her. "I don't know. This is all a little too much."

"The Mallory thing? I didn't know she was your roommate. I had no idea, I swear."

She scoffed. "She's my tenant. I own the place, rent out the two top floor bedrooms, and she's batshit crazy, so yeah, I'm a little concerned about the whole you've-slept-with-my-roommate-who-will-probably-start-adding-Nair-to-my-shampoo thing. Plus, you've got your family, and there are things going on there you can't or won't discuss. It's…a lot. And I'm just coming off a breakup myself. I need calm for a while and this isn't it."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. For the record, I wish it wasn't this way…" I was hit with a sudden pang of sadness for her and for what could've been if we'd met under different circumstances.

"Look, I know you're technically my boss and you could fire me for saying this, but…if you want your life to be something different than it is, just… God, fix it, Peter. It's your life, and absolutely no one has more control over it than you."

"Well, it's not that simple, is it? Some circumstances are out of my control."

"Then get them under your control," she said. "Don't hook up with random girls you don't know. Figure out your shit with your wife—stay in your marriage or get out, but quit straddling the line. People like to pretend they have no control over the way their life turns out, but the truth is that they just refuse to deal with the hard stuff because it's too painful and messy. You know what's even more painful and sticky? Prolonging bad situations for your own comfort. No one can solve your problems for you, Peter. No one wants to." She sighed, her eyes filling with sorrow. "Just…figure it out."

"I will," I promised her. "I am." At that moment, I knew she was right. No one had ever said it to me like that, but she was right. I needed the tough love she'd given me. I needed to take control. I needed to handle this. No longer was I going to let Ainsley control everything. I was an adult whose future was being decided by our next moves. I had every right to make decisions about our lives.

"Good," she said, then reached for the door. "You should go. I'll see you at work."

"Thank you," I said, shuffling across the room and out the door. I felt the urge to apologize again, but I resisted.

I walked out of the townhome, surprised to see Mallory waiting by my car. "Are you leaving?" she asked.

"Yeah, I should get going," I said hesitantly. "I shouldn't have come by. Listen, I'm sorry for…"

"Wasting my time? Making me look like an idiot? Embarrassing me in front of my roommate?"

"Yeah, that… I never meant to waste your time, Mallory. I had a lot of fun with you—"

"Don't," she cut me off. "I know who I am, okay? I know why men like you choose to match with me. I was nothing more than a one-nighter to you, and that's fine. But then you showed up here today all Love, Actually , and I thought ‘hm, Mallory, maybe you were wrong about this one… Maybe he's one of the good guys.' I thought you were going to do some big romantic gesture like the fucking idiot I am."

"You're not—"

"But I was wrong, like always. You aren't one of the good guys, Pete. You aren't one of the good guys at all." She launched her foot back and kicked my car's bumper, cracking the plastic.

"What the hell?" I demanded, staring at her in disbelief.

"Serves you right," she huffed, storming past me. "Don't fucking contact me or come here ever again."

She slammed the door, and I stared at the crack in my bumper. What the hell just happened ? I realized then that Gina likely hadn't been joking about Mallory adding Nair to her shampoo. I shook my head, forcing the thought away. A cracked bumper was the least of my worries, but I would fix that, too.

From here on out, I was going to fix things. I wasn't leaving it all up to Ainsley anymore. I was going to do things my way for a while. Whether she liked it or not.