Thirty-five and Single

The bubble that surrounds us pops, and I hear Corey’s frantic questions about who Joel is. I pull back.

Joel apparently heard him as well. He pulls the lapels of my robe closed before his hand drops to my waist to cinch the sash. Then he turns to face my future ex-husband.

Holding out a hand, my one-night stand introduces himself. “Hi, I’m Joel. And you are?”

Corey’s tan evaporates under the heat of red flames. As he takes the other man’s hand, he turns a lovely shade of beet red, extra ripe. The handshake is a show of dominance, and I almost giggle from the hilarity of the situation.

“I’m her husband,” Corey announces.

Laughter freezes in my chest and comes out as puffed air. “Corey, you are not my husband,” I counter.

“Our divorce isn’t final.” Corey’s gaze bounces between the two of us.

“But our separation is. And I’m free to date whomever I please.”

Corey’s jaw works as he tries to think around my logic. Joel takes the opportunity to dive in for another kiss. This one is quicker and doesn’t involve an NC-17 movie rating.

“I’ll see you later,” Joel whispers to me.

I’m tongue-tied and stand still, fighting the urge to cross my legs from the heat he’s created in me.

The door closes with a soft click when Joel leaves.

“What the hell, Livvy?” Corey all but shouts.

His face no longer looks like he fell asleep on the beach face up. Though he does resemble someone getting over a bad sunburn.

A cleansing breath helps me decide what to say next.

“Tell me something. What’s your number?”

“What do you mean? You have my number, though you’ve obviously changed yours or you’re just ignoring my calls.”

Yesterday, after getting word from my lawyer, I’d checked my voicemail on my old number and got his messages. Purposely, I hadn’t called him back.

“I don’t mean that.” I wave him off and head to the kitchen. I need coffee, realizing my headache is not in my head, but he’s standing before me. “I mean, your number. Like ours used to be one. You were my first and only. What’s yours now?”

That stops him, and I can see his brain working.

“Don’t worry about it.” The idea of knowing now makes me faintly ill. “The fact that you have to think about it means it’s not two.” Like mine is now. “How long have you been cheating on me? Were there more before that woman you let blow you in the bed I shared with you?”

Anger toward him suddenly boils to the surface along with bile. We’ve never had this argument before, since I hadn’t exactly talked to him, with the exception of the required meeting during the divorce process. It’s been a year, and the farce of a marriage might have been over by now if I’d filed sooner. But his pleas and our history going back to elementary school had stayed my actions for longer than they should have.

“Liv,” Corey pleads.

“No, Corey. You were my best friend. You betrayed me in the worst way. The man I thought you were would have just told me the truth.”

“Liv,” he repeats.

“I wasn’t enough for you then, and I’m not going to be just enough for you now. I want the same chance you had. I want to see the world and date and have fun with other people. It must be the greatest thing ever, since you gave us up for it.”

His mouth shuts, and I see when he makes the decision to leave it be.

“You should go,” I say.

“I’m going to be at Amelia’s for dinner. We can talk then.”

Betrayal hits me in the gut. I’m supposed to go over there, but I’m not now. Sable takes that moment to jump up onto the counter and bare her teeth at my soon-to-be ex.

“What the fuck is that?” he howls, taking several steps back.

“It’s a cat.” A smug grin grows on my face.

He sneezes, and I hate that satisfaction builds in my chest.

“We can’t have a cat.” His back is only steps from the door.

“We can’t. But I can. You should go.”

His sneezing attack begins. Thankfully, he’s not so allergic as to need an EpiPen. Sable is living up to the deterrent she was meant to be along with company. This is my first time ever living alone.

“I want us to talk. I want us to try to work this out. So I’ll see you tonight.” He opens the door.

“You won’t. Cat hair and all.” I do an impression of a game show hostess thing with my hands to encompass my body. “It gets on everything, clothes and such.”

Corey’s practically out the door. “Call me, please. We can work this out. I still love you.”

With that, the door clicks shut, and I abandon the thought of the unmade coffee and sink onto the couch. In seconds, Sable bounds onto my lap, and I stroke her amber fur. Purrs vibrate through her body.