“I’ll have the grilled halibut, hold the sauce, no butter or salt on the steamed veggies, and please remove the bread basket. I can’t have any unrefined carbs.” Jen handed her menu to the waiter with a polite smile. “Thanks.”
“Sorry, but the bread stays.” Alex Peyton grabbed the basket back from the waiter. “It’s called willpower, babe. Just say no.” He put the basket down and eyed his girlfriend, slim and tanned in a black strapless sundress. “Besides, you look incredible. You don’t need to lose weight.”
“And the reason I don’t need to lose weight,” she pointed out, “is because I diet.” She took a sip of her white wine spritzer. “Alex, there’s something we need to talk about.”
“Oh?” He paused in the act of reaching for a roll. “Okay. I’m listening.”
Jen shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I like you, a lot. You’re funny, and smart, and-” she blushed and dropped her gaze “-and you’re good in bed.”
“But-?” he enquired, and waited.
“But I’ve met someone else,” she said in a rush. “His name is Jake, and he’s single, and available. And he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a guy.”
“I see. And what does he do, this guy, this… Jake?” he asked tightly.
“Do? He’s a barista.”
“A barista,” he repeated, and let out an incredulous laugh. “You’re throwing me over – a corporate lawyer who earns in the high six figures – for a barista?”
“Alex, you’re married! Okay, separated,” she corrected before he could argue, “but you’re still technically married to Dana. You have a wife and a kid, and … baggage. Jake’s free. He’s young. He doesn’t have any encumbrances like you do.”
“Encumbrances?” Alex echoed. “Oh – you mean like my wife, who, by the way, I left you for, or my daughter, who now hates me almost as much as she hates Brussels sprouts? Or the half-million dollar house I walked out of, so I could move into that shitty little apartment with you? Are those the encumbrances you’re talking about?”
“Please, Alex. You’re making a scene.”
“Am I? Too bad.” He threw his napkin aside and flagged down a waiter. “Check, please.” He turned back to Jen. “Looks like this is the last free meal you’ll get from me.” As he withdrew his wallet, he added, “At least you won’t starve. I’m sure Jake’ll give you lots of free chai lattes and day-old muffins.”
“You know, Dana was right,” Jen snapped. “She told me you were a jerk, but I didn’t believe her. I believed you when you said she was a bitch, and that you were just misunderstood. Boy, was I wrong. And naïve. And stupid!”
“Well, I have something to tell you,too,” Alex said calmly as he leaned back in his chair. “I’ve decided to patch things up with Dana. I’m going back to her. And you can go back to your… barista,” he added contemptuously.
“What makes you think she wants you back?”
“Of course she wants me back. I know I treated her badly, and I know I don’t deserve another chance. But it’s time I made amends.” He glared at her. “And it’s time I stopped having meaningless sex with a carb-obsessed woman who’s got shoulders wider than Tim Tebow’s.”
Jen thrust her chair back and stood up. “I think you left it too late to fix your marriage.”
“What do you mean?”
“Rumor has it your wife isn’t exactly pining away at home, waiting for you to come back. She’s seeing someone. In fact, she’s been seeing him for quite a while. His name’s Brandon. He’s one of your neighbors.”
“Brandon?” Alex paled. Dana was seeing Brandon, the most pompous, self-important asshole in an exclusive gated community loaded with pompous, self-important assholes? Even worse – that selfsame asshole was actually… drilling his wife?
“Yep.” Jen picked up her clutch from the table and swept him with a glance of mingled pity and contempt. “Thanks for dinner. And thanks for the meaningless sex.” She paused. “You know, they say size doesn’t matter. They lied. Bye, Alex.”
And as she strode out of the restaurant, Alex wondered how in the hell he’d miscalculated so badly.
He’d lost Dana. Now he’d lost Jen.
But as the check arrived and he signed the bill, he vowed that he wasn’t giving up on his marriage. Dana was still his wife. It was past time he went back to her, said sorry, ate a little crow, and moved in again. A man’s home was his castle, after all… and theirs was a very expensive castle. And he was still paying for it.
Alex was filled with renewed determination as he stood up to leave. He’d get Dana back, and he’d make their marriage work. No more cheating. No more one-night stands. He’d focus all of his energy on his wife…
… after he went home and put his foot squarely up Brandon’s pompous, self-important, entitled ass, that is.
*Click here to read the first installment of Alex and Dana’s story, “The Little Blue Box“
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