I’m back at the apartment, pacing, trying to get hold of my wife. She’s not answering my calls or my texts, which is just great.
But can I blame her? I know she’s never liked Mila because she always said she had a thing for me—fuck—but seeing me in her fucking bathroom? She knew I’d have spent the night there too because Ross told her he couldn’t find me.
Fucking Ross!
He’s still networking at the conference—where I should be, I think bitterly. I glance at the clock on the kitchen wall.
It’s midday. I guess I could make the afternoon session if I leave now…I mean, there’s no point missing what I came here for. I just need to explain to Jade that nothing happened.
Guilt twinges in my gut when I think that, ignoring the kiss with Mila. It meant nothing; it was a stupid, drunken decision. Mila said she wouldn’t tell anyone, and if Jade ever found out, she’d leave me.
The thought makes me feel sick. She can’t leave me over a fuckingkiss that meantnothing. If I tell her about it, I’d be doing it to ease my guilt, and that’s not fair on Jade.
Jade’s always been insecure; this would only make her worse, and it meantnothing.
I nod to myself and pull up my text messages, feeling better about my decision.
White lies. To protect her.
DEVON: Jade, baby. I know what that looked like, but I promise you, nothing happened. Nothing. I walked her to her room and fell asleep in a chair—that’s all. I woke up and called you. Please speak to me.
I stare at the phone, praying I see the little blue dots come up to show me she’s typing, but there’s nothing.
I sigh and toss my phone onto the counter with a clatter, heading for the shower. I need to get my head in the zone and focus on my career, not stupid kisses.
Jade will understand once she reads my text. I know she’ll be pissed, but…what else can I do? Tell her the truth and lose her?
Fuck, no.
I love my wife, and I won’t lose her. No matter what.
I make it to the conference to find it still busy, thank God. Ross is apologetic when I explain I bumped into an old friend and we crashed out after some drinks.
“I didn’t mean to worry your wife,” he says, scratching the back of his neck as we eat tuna salad on a break. “I was honestly worried for you, man. Bad shit happens all the time in New York City.”
I chew and nod, not trusting myself to respond. If it wasn’t for him, Jade wouldn’t have called me; then none of this would be happening.
I gaze around the room, my eyes stopping on Grant as he stands in a doorway, talking to another blonde.
Is it Mila?Not that I care; I just don’t want to talk to her either right now.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I shove my fork into my bowl, grabbing it quickly.
It’s Jade.
“Excuse me,” I say, placing my salad bowl on the side before heading out. My heart thuds in my throat, but I need to be calm. I have to soundnormal,or she’ll know. She knows me better than anyone.
“Baby,” I greet her.
“Don’t youbabyme. What the fuck were you thinking, Devon? Crashing out in Mila-fucking-Harris’s room?!”
Oh boy, her voice is trembling. She’s pissed, alright.
“I know, but she was really drunk, and?—”
“Why is Mila being drunk any of your concern, Devon? You’re a married man,” Jade hisses, her voice low.
I swallow. “Because she could barely walk, Jade. I helped her get back to her room, and?—”