A life that would have been perfect if Cody never existed. But he does.
My mom makes plans to come down and spend the day with me when my cousins get here, tells me she loves me and misses me, and then hangs up without another word about her mysterious prophecies about Cody and our non-relationship. Dax didn’t hear anything. He couldn’t have. I plaster a fake smile on my face, walk into the dining room, and find a note on the counter from Dax.
Went to the store. Call if you need anything. ILY.
I sigh, relieved, yet worried. At least now I have time to make a phone call to the house cleaner and request that she come and tidy up and make up some guest rooms for the girls. Next is Chloe to make sure she doesn’t need any help with God knows what she has planned for this weekend. She doesn’t. She tells me she has it handled like a large cock in the palm of her hand. Eloquent. I shower, dress in a pair of jeans, and drive to Cody’s hopefully empty house to be there for the delivery. Some may think I’m asking for trouble even going to his empty house, but with how he feels about me, trouble isn’t even on my radar. Hurt is—pain and bewilderment, too. I’ll merely tell the delivery men where to arrange his beautiful pieces and then lock the door behind me and never go back. Never mind that the things I selected were things that I myself loved and thought were perfect. You know, that would go perfectly in the house with my dream kitchen and everything else that was supposed to be mine. Including him. I roll my window down and let my hair air-dry on the drive over to the house.
I’m anticipating this being a sick kind of torture.
_______________
The trucks are already here waiting when I pull up thirty minutes early. I call Dax to let him know I’m overseeing a delivery and I’ll be home for lunch. I also tell him about my cousins crashing the house in the very near future. He sounds happy. Probably because it’s the next step to the altar. We’re running out of days and activities. He tells me he plans on having a bachelor party this weekend, too. So we’ll both be out and distracted. We won’t be jealous of each other. I roll my eyes. After what I did to him, I can’t imagine being jealous over anything he could possibly get up to. If he wants hookers and blow for his bachelor party, I’ll support it. I also know that’s not Dax. But I tell him he is welcome to have as much fun as he wants.
I hop out of my car and walk up to the guy holding a clipboard. “Cody Ridge,” he asks.
I roll my eyes. “Yeah, that’s me. You’re early,” I say, bending over to untie my tennis shoes. “No shoes in the house, pads underneath the large pieces while moving indoors and please, for the love of all that is holy, be careful with the walls. It has new paint and floors,” I explain. “I’ll open the garage, the dimensions of the pieces require a larger opening.” He nods, looks at me like I’m some kind of freak, and speaks with the other three men off to the side.
“I do this for a living,” I say to his thick back. “I know how this operates!”
He turns around, quirks one brow, and says, “Yes ma’am,” then turns back around. The nerve of some people.
Huffing out in exasperation, I leave them to their business and unlock the doors with the keys I have from before. I sigh. That realization leaves a lump in my throat. Before. Gross. I push open the heavy door, take off my shoes, and the scent of Cody hits me like a baseball bat to the face—his cologne and the scent that mixes with the flavor of his body wash to create the most mouthwatering concoction of a scent. All of that is in the air taunting me, haunting me, reminding me of what I can no longer have. “It’s a man’s house. Of course it will smell like a man,” I say. Why does it have to remind me of so much? It looks as if he hasn’t been here in quite some time. It makes sense, though, he prefers the NYC apartment and it seems that’s where his new friend lives