At dinner, the dishes had to be ones she liked. On outings, the destinations had to be ones she wanted.
I kept telling myself that Kay had a heart condition, that she deserved sympathy, that I should be the bigger person.
Until Job's birthday.
I put on the sexy red dress he loved most and straddled his lap.
His breathing went ragged in an instant. He shoved me down against the cushions, fierce and hungry.
Then the ringtone went off.
I knew that ringtone. Job had set it exclusively for Kay.
I wanted so badly for him to ignore it, to stay lost in me.
He didn't.
The phone only rang for three seconds before every trace of ……desire drained from his eyes.
He answered, exchanged a few words, grabbed his jacket, and rushed out the door.
He left me there alone, disheveled and half-undressed on the couch.
Even then, I tried to comfort myself. Maybe something had actually happened to Kay. After all, her health really was fragile.
It took a long time to talk myself down.
Then I opened my phone and saw the post Kay had just put on social media.
The photo showed a cake that wasn't much to look at. The letters piped across the top were crooked, and the little drawing was barely recognizable.