My Kind of Perfect (Finding Love 3)

Apple Music

Feels Great - Cheat Codes

House Party - Sam Hunt

Ain’t My Fault – Zara Larsson

Blue Tacoma – Russell Dickerson

Sorry – Justin Bieber

Eenie Meenie – Justin Bieber & Sean Kingston

Feelings Show – Colbie Caillat

This Feeling – The Chainsmokers

I’m Yours – Alessia Cara

Behind These Hazel Eyes – Kelly Clarkson

Just the Way You Are – Bruno Mars

The Difference – Tyler Rich

I Don’t Care – Ed Sheeran & Justin Bieber

Gold – Britt Nicole

Take Back Home Girl- Chris Lane

Give Your Heart a Break – Demi Lovato

Wanted – Hunter Hayes

There’s No Way – Lauv

What Do You Mean? – Justin Bieber

Can’t Take Her Anywhere – Dylan Scott

Tie Me Down – Gryffin & Elley Duhé

To Bret, for loving me imperfectly perfect.

Chase

“Hey… Yeah, I’m on my way,” my wife whispers into the phone, thinking I’m asleep.

I had to pull an extra shift at work because two of the guys called out, and then we were up all night putting out a fire that resulted in a mom and her baby both losing their lives. I love my job as a firefighter, but some days it’s harder than others. We want to save them all, and it sucks when we can’t.

“I’ll see you soon,” she says softly, using a tone very unlike her. I crack an eye open and see her standing in front of our dresser, putting her big hoop earrings into her ears. She’s dressed in a short, tight, leopard dress and tall as fuck heels that show off her mile long legs. Her long, dyed, black hair has been straightened, and her face, which is being reflected in the mirror, is covered in makeup.

She’s going out without me… again.

I take a moment to assess her features. My wife is hot. Always has been. And dressed the way she is right now, she looks every bit like the model she once was—before fame got to her head and destroyed her career. But if you remove the makeup, you’ll see the wrinkles around her mouth from years of smoking. And if you look closely at the creases in her arms, you’ll see the scars from the needles. She’s been clean for a while now, but those scars are permanent. Just like the damage she’s causing to our marriage by the choices she’s making.

Before she can escape, I roll over and sit up. She doesn’t notice me right away, so I clear my throat. She jumps, startled, and swivels around. “Chase… you’re awake.” Her striking blue eyes meet mine.

“I am. Where are we going?” I throw the freshly washed blanket off me—noting how she’s been doing the sheets several times a week, when she used to barely wash them once a month—and stand. I don’t really have any intention of going anywhere. I have to be back at work at 8:00 a.m., but my fake threat forces a reaction out of Victoria—shock tinged with a little bit of guilt—that tells me everything I need to know—something I’ve been suspecting for a while now.

My wife, the woman I’ve been married to for almost ten years, have been friends with for even longer, have been through ups and downs with, was by her side every time she fell off the wagon and needed help getting back on, is having an affair.

When she came home the first time smelling like another man’s scent, I questioned her. She told me I was crazy, that I was starting shit for no reason. The next time, she said the club she and her friends were at was crowded and a guy probably rubbed up against her. It was a dumb as fuck excuse, but I swallowed it down, not wanting to believe my wife would cheat on me.

But now, it’s time I open my eyes and stop being a dumbass.

“I’m going out with Fiona and Jezibel,” she says, referring to her washed-up model friends.

“Cool. I’ll join you.”

Her eyes widen, but she quickly schools her features. “It’s a girls’ night,” she retorts.

“I don’t think they’ll mind me crashing… Plus, I miss you.” I walk over to her and cage her in my arms.

“Don’t you have to work tomorrow morning?” She moves my arm and steps away like she’s repulsed by me. I can still remember the days when we would spend hours at a time with me inside her. Even the last year, since she’s been pushing me away, we haven’t gone more than a couple days without having sex. But the last couple months it’s gotten worse. I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve been intimate with my wife. She starts fights all the time, which end with me sleeping on my friend Alec’s couch. And when I’m home, she’s either out with her friends or doesn’t feel well and wants to be left alone. Something is definitely up, and I’m going to find out what—or who—it is.