Page 43 of Reckless Love

How unhinged does that sound?

It’s just… I never realized what was missing in my life, in my marriage, until I felt it again, and now I can’t un-feel, unsee, unknow any of it. For years, I’ve forced myself to be content, to only look at the pieces of my life that were good or at least fine enough, and I ignored anything that didn’t fit that narrative.

I’ve stayed focused on the trees because if I stepped out to examine the whole forest, I’d realize what’s here is dead or dying or never even sprouted. I’d clearcut the woods, grind down the stumps until I was left with nothing but tiny fragments of this false life.

But I can’t do that. The consequences are too dire. So I just need to keep focused on the few trees that aren’t wilted and half dead. What other choice do I have?

Chapter Fifteen

Ava

Goose bumps rise on my arms, and I take one more sip of my whiskey before daring to glance behind me at the rest of Café Plutus, which is the most expensive eatery in Bellerive.

The two best places in the tiered restaurant, which is perched on the edge of a cliff, have very different purposes. Tables at the bottom and front, overlooking the ocean, are the place to be seen. They have a premium price, and everyone notices who sits here. Power deals, high-profile romances, and any rich person looking to prove a point are in these seats.

Whereas the back, which is also the top, of the restaurant is a private room with glass patrons can look out of but other can’t look into. It’s the place where people go who don’t want to be seen but still desire the ambience and views of Café Plutus. As an added bonus, the room is soundproof for large parties, guests with rambunctious children, and… other things.

I didn’t see who went in, but the two suited men standing outside the main entrance cause a jolt of recognition. I lock gazes with one of them.

Stephen.

He was the cause of the goose bumps. Even before he gave in to the connection between us, I knew when he was in the same room as me. Some sort of weird pheromone-inspired reaction that never diminished in all the years we flicked on and off. Something inside both of us never really switched off, and if I needed more proof, the intensity of his gaze would be it. He might pretend to be indifferent, but he definitely isn’t.

And god help me, neither am I.

Even though it’s an awkward angle, and looking at him too long in a room like this is a social mistake, I’m not the first one to drag my gaze away. Stephen takes in the empty seat beside me, and I think he grimaces. But I could be imagining it, given the distance between us.

“Have you been watching for me?” Raul’s question yanks me out of my thoughts and reminds me of why I’m here. His hand rests on my shoulder, the opposite direction from where I’ve been looking. “You know I never enter from the back.”

He follows my gaze, and immediately, I regret what Raul will likely put together with ease. His biggest hesitation in marrying me was my reputation. Didn’t bother him when he was the one having a one-night stand with me, but, according to him, respectable men didn’t marry those types of women. They were fun, not forever.

I’m not sure Raul intended to have forever with anyone. It’s not his style.

Then I got pregnant, and respectable men didn’t let their baby mama go unwed.

Now, I think I gave up too much, that I didn’t really understand what I wanted, would make me happy. Misery was eating me alive, and I didn’t see how marrying Raul could make that feeling worse.

Maybe the reckoning of my choices was always waiting in the dark, determined to hunt me at the most inconvenient time, drag me back to the path I never should have veered off.

“Is that Stephen Foster?” Raul squints. He should be wearing his glasses for distance, but he’s too vain to carry them with him. He thinks they make him look old, not distinguished like the gray streaks in his hair.

“Yes,” I admit, and I take another sip of my drink.

“Were you talking to him?”

“No.”

“We should go see him later. I can slip him and that other young man an extra tip for their good work.”

“Don’t do that.” His suggestion should be a relief, that he’s not accusing me of anything, but the idea of Raul slipping Stephen a hundred or even a thousand dollars is actually even worse. I will die with embarrassment at his arrogance.

Raul laughs and flags down a waiter to order his own drink. I used to get him one while I waited for him, wherever we were supposed to meet, but then I got tired of how desperate it made me feel to watch the ice melt in his glass. Sometimes it would be hours before he’d arrive, never even a whiff of an apology for wasting my time. Disrespect I let slide off as though it didn’t matter. Memories from the last six years with him keep surfacing, and none of it’s good. All of it makes me wonder if I’ve become a shell of who I once was. Hollow. Superficially invested.

When the waiter sets his vodka cranberry on the table, Raul gives me his full attention. “Aren’t you the one who’s always going on about giving people fair compensation? Isn’t that why you insisted on no personal profits with Reckless those first years? Did I imagine those conversations?”

“If you want to give them a bonus, you don’t need to do it tonight.”

“Nonsense,” Raul says, taking a long sip of his drink. “They’ll appreciate it whenever I do it. Tonight is as good as any time. I’m sure they could both use the money. Best to keep the firm on our good side.” He flips open his menu, even though he’ll order the same off-menu items he always does. “If they’re gone before we’re done, I’ll go to the office this week, make sure Owen knows they did an adequate job.”