The Forever Weekend - L.P. Maxa
Prologue
Livi
I pulled my sporty little Audi into an empty parking spot at my husband’s swanky downtown office. It’d been ages since I’d visited him at work. “Kasey, I’m going to have to call you back.” I held the phone against my ear with my shoulder and shut the car door with my foot.
“No. We have to get these tickets booked today, Livi.”
I rolled my eyes as I tried to balance the bags of takeout I was carrying and my oversized purse. “I’m surprising Patrick with lunch, and my hands are full. I’m going to end up dropping my phone.”
“You’ll be fine.”
I took and let out a deep calming breath. “Fine, give me a second to readjust.” I didn’t wait for her reply before setting my phone on the hood of my car and transferring all the bags into one hand. “Okay. Now, tell me the flying death trap times again.” Half-heartedly, I listened to my best friend list the departure times for our upcoming trip to Georgia as I balanced all my crap and headed through the spinning doors to surprise my husband with his favorite meal.
I felt like we’d been growing apart lately, and the distance had finally gotten to me. We were both so busy, and we seemed to be on two completely different schedules. He got home late, and I left the house early. Weekends were full of obligations with friends and to-do lists a mile long. I’d woken up that morning, feeling so far away from my husband that there was a slight ache in my chest. I needed to make more of an effort to put our marriage first. I knew that if I did, Patrick would follow suit. He was a workaholic, but he loved me. I simply needed to remind him that I was still here.
“Is that good for you?”
My friend’s question snapped me out of my head and reminded me that I was still on the phone. “I’m fine with whatever, Kasey. You’re the one with the kid. We’ll leave when it works for you.”
I was super pumped for our yearly girls’ trip, even if I wasn’t really paying attention to the smaller details like flight times. I needed a vacay in the worst way. Ha. That rhymed, I could use it in my next book. I should write it down or I’d forget, my brain was a scattered mess on a good day. What were the chances I could grab my notebook out of my purse without dropping all the food and shattering my cell on the shiny waxed concrete? Probably not great, I shouldn’t even attempt it.
When the elevator doors opened, I pressed the button to the top floor. Patrick was successful, and his office was proof. A lot of glass windows and modern leather, sterile if you asked me. Although no one had. Not even the annoyingly put-together interior designer his company had hired after his last promotion.
Miraculously, my cell hadn’t dropped Kasey’s call while I was riding to the eighteenth floor. I’d listened while she had discussed the pros and cons of flying out before or after her toddler’s nap time. I loved her kid, with all my heart, but I needed her to pick a flight and let me have lunch with my husband in peace.
“Okay, I’ve really got to go now, Kasey, I’m walking up to his door.” Usually Patrick’s secretary was posted at her desk outside his office, but today it was empty. Oh. Duh, Mrs. Mitchell retired, he’d told me that weeks ago. I wondered if he hired someone new yet. Had he mentioned it to me and I’d let it go in one ear and out the other? I needed to make a better effort to listen about his day. It was so late by the time he got home, I was usually a glass of wine deep and mentally exhausted.
“Livi. Are you even listening to me?”
I snorted. “No, I’m not listening to you. I told you I need to go, my hands are full, and I’m two seconds away from walking into Patrick’s office.” I balanced the phone against my shoulder once again, using my free hand to open the oversize door. “Kasey, book the tickets and then email me the…Holy. Fuck.”
“What? Holy fuck, what?”
I dropped the takeout bags, Mexican food exploded everywhere while my purse slid down to the floor beside my feet. The only thing I managed to keep a death grip on was my cell phone.
My husband was having sex