Dear Future Ex-wife

I shove my elbow into his chest, and he steps back to give me some space. Spinning around to face him, I lean my back against the counter and cross my arms over my chest. His eyes fall to my breasts that are on display more than usual in this low-cut tank top.

We share a moment.

I’m not even sure what to call it.

It’s not lust, love, or even friendship.

Nate has the power to break my heart if I let him. I’m afraid of letting him get too close because he hurt me before. I was so in love with him in high school, but he never looked at me the same way as other girls. I have to keep my guard up. Nate can’t dominate me or control me in any way, or I’ll lose a lot more than a company.

“I have to call my boyfriend,” I say after a long, awkward pause, giving him an evil look. “Or should I say ex-boyfriend, thanks to you.”

He stares at me, his face unreadable at first, but his features twist into something that resembles jealousy. But that’s not possible.

He got me.

He won the girl.

Chapter Eleven

Nate

I’m an idiot.

After years of waiting to have Harley back in my life, I’m blowing my chance with her. She stormed upstairs after dinner, slamming her bedroom door so hard it echoed throughout the house. Harley has always had a flair for the dramatic. I think her father has a lot to do with that. He was never around, busy working on new games with my dad. Back then, Harley would have done anything for a second of his time. And nothing has changed. That’s why she’s here, in my apartment and going through with this fake marriage. She wants his attention, his love. Though, I fear she will never get it from him.

Standing in the living room, I glance out the windows that overlook the Philadelphia skyline. The bright lights twinkle against the dark sky, illuminating my apartment. I love how the city comes to life at night, and from this vantage point, I feel like I’m on top of the world.

When we were kids, Harley and I would climb into the treehouse. We both loved heights and craved adventure. My back yard was our domain, where we pretended we were Peter Pan and Wendy in our own version of Neverland. Years later, we became King and Queen. I wanted a penthouse apartment to remind myself of the good times with Harley. And now that I have Harley at my side, we can have it all.

The King has his Queen.

I raise a glass of bourbon to my lips, enjoying the brief moment of silence until a loud bang upstairs startles me. Harley. Another crash forces me to climb the spiral staircase. Drink still in hand, I inch my way toward her closed bedroom door. It sounds like she’s remodeling on the other side of the door. What the hell is she doing in there?

I stop in front of her room, my free hand raised to knock before her voice stops me.

“Kevin, I’m sorry,” Harley whines. “Yeah, I thought so, too.”

My heart sinks into my stomach. I should walk away and give her some privacy, but the selfish asshole in me keeps his feet planted on the hardwood. I rest my shoulder against the wall, tipping the glass to my lips as I listen to her conversation.

“No, it has nothing to do with what happened last night.” A beat passes before she says, “I don’t know what you want me to say, Kev. It’s not like I planned this.”

It killed me when I found out Harley was dating Kevin Frederick. I hadn’t felt that kind of pain since we were in high school. I thought watching another boy ask Harley to our senior prom, while I stood next to her, waiting to ask her the same question, was the hardest day of my life. I let him win, walked away from the only girl I have ever loved. To this day, Harley still has no idea why I was in the south hallway at school. Why I waited in front of her locker when I was supposed to be in gym class. But the hardest day came a few weeks ago when I made the worst decision of my life.

“I have to stay in Philly,” Harley says to Kevin, her voice almost a whisper now. “I’m not sure when I’ll be back in LA.”

She doesn’t want to be here, not with me, anyway. I should let her go, do the right thing, allow her to fall in love with someone else. Don’t I owe her this much? I fucked up both of our lives, created a mess of problems. Maybe my dad is right. For every good thing I do, I create twice as many bad.