Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

AINSLEY

I was on the couch when I heard a noise outside and suspected it was Peter. When I glanced at the clock, an odd mixture of confusion and worry filled me. It wasn't even eight thirty, which means if he was back, the date either didn't go well or went too well and he had finished what he left the house to do.

Peter wasn't confident or outgoing, so I suspected it would be the former. He struggled with situations he wasn't comfortable in, yet thrived when he was comfortable. It was why his business had done so well, but he'd failed when trying to work for someone else. He didn't like to put himself out there for fear of rejection. He lived in his own head and got stressed out when things didn't go his way. He let the smallest things bother him, sitting with him and driving him crazy for weeks, sometimes months.

My husband was perpetually shy and calculating. He liked to plan and think things through. To put thought into his next move. He was the type to spend months reading reviews before buying a new coffee pot or obsess over and try on multiple coats from multiple stores before deciding on which he preferred. There was nothing spontaneous about him. It was why I'd been so surprised he'd agreed to the arrangement so easily. I thought I'd need to spend months selling him the idea before he agreed.

The noise came again, reminding me of what brought on my current train of thought, and I stood from the couch, listening to the steady pacing outside the door. There were no sounds of knocking. Only movement.

Surely he hadn't brought someone home with him. We'd never laid out that rule, but I'd assume he'd know it was one.

I peeked through the small glass window of the door, looking out onto the porch and sighed with relief. My best friend, Glennon, was there, her phone pressed to her ear. I swung open the door and looked out, and she placed her fingers over the microphone, smiling up at me joyfully as she mouthed, "Sorry."

"Okay, okay, Mom," she said, and I understood what was happening. "I will. Yep, love you too. Mmkay. Love you. Yep. Okay, bye."

She lowered the phone from her ear, rolling her eyes. "Sorry, my mom was telling me about her book club again. It's very scandalous there." Glennon leaned forward with a wink, wrapping her arms around me. "It's so good to see you, babe. Sorry it's unannounced. I'd planned to call on the way over, but you see how that turned out."

I stepped back, allowing her inside. "You never have to call, you know that. What are you doing out so late?"

"I wanted to check in. It's been a while since we hung out. Seth's at a work retreat thing." She sighed, taking off her coat and tossing it onto the coat rack next to the door. "I figured I'd come over and bother you and Peter for a while."

We walked into the kitchen together instinctually, our ritual whenever she came over. She grabbed the wine glasses while I pulled out the chardonnay. I preferred red, but the bottle had been opened a few nights ago and needed to be drunk. "Well, bother away. It's just me tonight. Hope that's okay."

"Where's Peter?" she asked over her shoulder, setting the glasses on the counter as I filled them and she wandered away to the pantry, which consisted of an entire room down the hall.

My answer was loud, meant to reach her there. "He's out. Work thing, I think." I hadn't told Glennon about what we were doing, though I'd always told her everything else, because I was embarrassed we'd even gotten to this point. Glennon and I were real with each other; we understood our respective marriages better than most counselors, but this felt like too much. When she returned to the room, she had a bag of caramel corn and one of cheddar popcorn.

"More snacks for me, then. Are we salty or sweet tonight?"

"Salty," I said with a laugh. "Always salty."

"Mm, you read my mind," she agreed, tossing the bag of caramel corn onto the countertop. "Speaking of salty , how are things? Got any salt to spill?"

I laughed. "I think you mean tea."

She wrinkled her nose. "Is that what the kids are calling it? I swear to God, I can't keep up anymore."

"Tell me about it. I need a translator to have a conversation with my three these days."

She chuckled. "Whatever. I feel like it's been a year and a half since I've seen you. How are you?"

"We got together for drinks last week," I pointed out.

"Much too long." She rolled her eyes playfully. "Speaking of the kiddos, where are they? Sleeping?"

"Well, they're supposed to be asleep, which means they're all up there playing on their phones like usual."

She walked toward me, taking the glass of wine as I held it out to her, her amber eyes locked with mine. "Is everything okay? You seem down."

The smile I gave her came on like a sneeze—quick and instinctual. It was a wall, meant to hide any form of worry or insecurity. "Everything's fine."

She knew better. "Fighting with Peter again?"

I shook my head. Glennon knew all about the fights, because all too often, it was her I ran to afterward. To vent, to cry, to weigh options when things were at their worst. It was Glennon who suggested the date nights and who pushed us to try therapy. Like a bossy older sister, she took the reins when my relationship began to go off course and tried to help bring us back someplace good.

"No, honestly," I told her, taking a sip of wine to cover whatever readable face I was sure I was making. "Everything's fine. What about you? How's Seth?"

Her smile was stymied by my words, falling to a flat line of thin lips. "Jesus, that bad? You can't even talk to me about it?"

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks, knowing there was no way around it. When I didn't say anything right away, she put her hands up. "Hey, no pressure, love. I won't force you. Just…you know I'm here, right?"

I was surprised to feel a lump forming in my throat, and I looked down, avoiding meeting her eye as I tried to collect myself. When I looked back up, I sniffled and nodded, and she took the hint, turning away. She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a second bottle of wine. "I think we're going to need this. I have tea to give you."

I smiled when she said it wrong, but didn't bother to correct her. It was far from my biggest problem. I hated feeling like I had to keep something so huge from her, but I couldn't tell her what we were up to. I wasn't ready. I hadn't figured out what to say.

"It's all about Seth's new assistant. Have I told you about her?" She wrinkled her nose in what looked like disgust. "Donna." I shook my head. With that, she let out a laugh and the conversation shifted easily, back to our usual banter. We headed into the living room and relaxed on the couch, sipping wine and bingeing terrible TV for the next several hours.

As the time passed, I realized it was the most fun I'd had in a long time. I always seemed to have more fun with Glennon than Peter. Maybe that was the problem. When was the last time I had fun with my husband?