The cabbie pulls up to my building, and I throw a few bills his way. I open the door and step out into the cool January air.
Looking at the stairs that lead to my apartment, a feeling of cold dread creeps its way through my veins. I’m an adulterer. The worst of the worst.
“Does he know you’re a divorce attorney? That you could single-handedly make his balls shrivel and fall off by handing his entire bank account over to his wife?”
“He lives in New York, Paige. I can’t practice there.”
I’m breathing hard into the phone as I take the stairs two at a time. Paige is shouting at me, but I’m only hearing tidbits of what she has to say, my mind scattered and unfocused, zeroing in on the fact that I spent the night with a married man. Someone I once thought was my future, my soul, my dreams.
“I never stopped loving you, Addison.” His hand trailed up my thigh and my body reacted. “You frequently come to me in my dreams, and I reach for you, but you’re never real.”
“You left me.”
I’m brought back to the present by Paige screeching in my ear. “When did he get married? Did you know he was married? Oh my God, Addison Peacock, did you know he was married?” She says this last part slowly and deliberately, and I don’t appreciate the accusing tilt in her tone of voice.
“Of course I didn’t know. It’s been a rough few years, but give me some credit.” I wish I could block out the night that keeps playing like a horror movie in my mind, but I’d craved his hands on my body for so long, and memories fade fast. I had longed to have Matt Bryson here in the flesh, his blue eyes hungrily taking me in as he pulls me to him and presses his lips to mine, his hard body making me feel things I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.
“I’m so sorry I hurt you, Addison.”
“He wasn’t wearing a ring, and trust me, I checked.”
In fact, his hands were the first place I looked after I realized he had actually returned to Santa Barbara. But I didn’t come right out and ask him if he had a wife at home. I’d been waiting for his return to this damn town for the past five years. We had a lot of making up to do. His sudden appearance and instant command of my body made me forget everything I’d imagined I would say if he ever came home. But now that the sun has risen, I’m wishing I’d thought this through a little more.
He was supposed to marry me.
Sadness envelops me as I continue up towards my apartment. “Please tell me you were drunk,” she keeps pressing.
Even if I could blame my actions on tequila, it wouldn’t change the end result. Matt left me five years ago, and it’s time I came to terms with that.
I’m about to change the subject when something catches my attention. A new car is parked in the carport, and I’m certain it wasn’t there last night. “Paige, I’ve gotta go.”
“What? No way. I want details. I need to know when you found out he was married, who he married. Why hasn’t he tried to contact you for five years? I want answers, dammit!”
“Matt? What is this?” I asked, holding what appeared to be a wedding ring between my index finger and my thumb. But that was impossible. Matt couldn’t be married. I looked at the ring then his face.
He tensed, a muscle ticked in his lower jaw, and his eyes hardened. “Where did you find that?”
I took a step towards him. “In the bathroom. Is it yours?”
One nod of his head, that’s all he gave me.
“You’re married?”
“Does any of it really matter, Paige? He’s married. Maybe now I can finally move on.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath, wishing that was as easy as it sounded. “Come over later for dinner, and I’ll give you all the details.”
Without giving her a chance to respond, I hang up.
The Spanish-style building houses two units, mine, and the one to my right. That one’s been vacant for months, and if the monster truck now parked down below is any indication, it has just been rented to a meat-head, another asshole to add to society—just what I need. I hope he’s not expecting a welcome to the neighborhood apple pie. The fact