“Cool.” I slap my hands on my knees and squeeze. “You know her, and Collin apparently knew her pussy. Awesome.”
A few things happen next. Sadie’s face pales. Remi cries harder, and Tatum screeches in the background. “Pussssssy!” she yells, running past us and up the stairs, buck-ass naked.
I want to laugh, because you have to admit that was pretty funny at the timing, but I’m mortified. Not at Tatum, but this is my life now. Every day, a different drama.
Between deep breaths and an impending panic attack, the front door opens. I hope it’s Jesus to tell me this is all a joke.
“I brought pizza and wine!” Nahla announces, kicking the door shut with her foot. She spots Remi on the couch, midfist wine pump in the air, and stops. “Who are you?”
“Collin’s girlfriend,” I answer for her. No sense in beating around the bush here.
The words hang in the air, but not long enough before both of them, and I do mean both of them, Sadie and Nahla say together, “Oh, yeah, saw that one coming.”
I’m not even joking when I say that they both literally said it at the same time.
“What?” I gasp through tears. “Really?”
Nahla glances at Sadie. “Why are you wet? Your nipples are scowling at me.”
“Went swimming with the kid.” She yanks at her shirt clinging to her chest. “Thank fuck, you brought pizza. I’m starving.”
Standing, I move from the couch in what feels like some kind of dream state. I take the wine and the pizza in passing. “I can’t be sober another minute of today.”
Setting them on the counter, I begin to pull out the ingredients to make Tatum’s favorite snack. Toasted Cheerios. If you’ve never had them, you’ll thank me later. Google it and thank me. No, seriously, you’re fucking welcome.
I toast the Cheerios in a pan, pour the sugar into a bowl and try to recall the last week.
“What are you baking?” Nahla asks, rubbing my back.
Tears run down my cheeks. I hadn’t realized I was crying, but I am. Pouring the hot buttery Cheerio mixture into the bowl, I sniff. “Toasted Cheerios.” Sighing, I begin to mix it into the sugar and cinnamon. “How’d I miss this, Nahla? He said he’d been working late every night, and I believed him.”
Nahla’s lips flatten. “That’s not your fault, Syd. You can’t blame yourself for him being a complete douche.”
I set the spoon down on the marble countertops Collin splurged for when we built this house. He didn’t spare a single expense when building. I smack the countertop with my palm. “Had he bought all this fancy shit in this house so I wouldn’t question his infidelity? Had he been trying to cushion me for this blow? Did he think I’d be one of those wives that thought, oh, well, I have a beautiful brand-new home in a gated community and any material possession I’d ever wanted, she won’t complain if I’m sticking my cock in someone else? Yes, bitch, I care!”
“I—”
“Was it something I did?” I interrupt her. “Had I ignored him? Gained too much weight?” Nahla frowns at that one. “Was it because we didn’t have sex enough? Now that I think about it, I can’t even remember the last time he told me he loved me.”
“Men can be assholes, Syd.”
I stare into her big black eyes. Nahla is Brazilian. Jet-black hair with a wideset pair of black eyes. Her skin is creamy olive, and her ass is Instagram-worthy. Headstrong, exotically beautiful, she can put any man in their place when needed. She bleeds confidence, defends her morals until she’s blue in the face, and doesn’t have a single insecurity that she leads on to. She’s worked harder than anyone I’ve ever met, which explains why she’s a lawyer. No man in their right mind would ever cheat on her, and if they did, she’d cut their fucking dick off.
“Kenneth wouldn’t cheat on you,” I point out, raising an eyebrow, challenging her to disagree with me.
“No, he wouldn’t. Only because he’s terrified of me.”
I struggle with opening the wine bottle in front of me.
“Here. Let me.” Nahla takes the bottle from my hands. “I like my wine without glass.”
I let her take it because I, too, like my wine without glass. And the last thing I need is to cut myself. News flash, I’m broke.
“What am I going to do?”
“I have a plan, but tonight, we’re not going to worry. We’re gonna drink