Page 40 of Alexander: Alexander's Story

Definitely that kind of night.

Me, my beer, and my one plate sit at a table in the nearly empty establishment. There are a couple teenagers at one table, but other than them, the place is empty. They don’t even notice I’m here, which is just fine too.

I left my phone in the car — on purpose — so I sit with nothing to do and no one to talk to until someone walks through the door of the pizza joint, and my stomach falls out of my ass.Fucking amazing.I simply don’t have it in me to people or small talk right now.

“Emma,” he says, almost surprised, maybe awkwardly. Okay, definitely awkwardly. The baby is strapped to his chest, and I smile at him. CT smiles and coos when he sees me.

Now, CT is my kind of person. He smiles a lot and doesn’t talk.

“Hi, Liam.” I wouldn’t say I’ve gotten close to Brit and Liam because I haven’t, but I know them now. Enough to say hi if we run into each other out in public. But I wasn’t calling to hang out with them, and they weren’t calling me, probably because we don’t even have each other’s numbers.

“Waiting for your pizza?” He asks, bouncing the baby who’s making grabby hands for me.

“Yup.” The one plate is looking really sad right about now.

He notices and says, “Sorry,” sounding actually, really sorry.

I laugh awkwardly because I’m embarrassed and say, “For what?”

“I mean, I was a little worried Alex wouldn’t take it well.” I shrug, avoiding saying something stupid because I have no fucking idea what he’s talking about.

“Just give him time to cool down. It’s not every day you find out your ex is dating your best friend.” I swallow the stomach acid threatening to come up and nod, like I get it, but I don’t. He shoots me another sympathetic smile, then greets the older man working the counter, picking up his three large pizzas.

I have never been more jealous in my entire life.

I’m jealous of the smiling baby he’s holding. I’m jealous of the three pizzas going home to a full house. I’m wildly jealous that the whole lot of them always seemactuallyhappy. Just gorgeous, rich, and sickeningly happy.That’s not the life for you.

When he leaves, he shoots me a sympathetic look, and I want to crumple on the spot.

I don’t, because that would be poor form. Instead, I wave and say bye to CT.

Once he’s gone, I finish off my beer, staring into the depths of the empty glass, and pray that it’ll refill itself.

After wolfing down my three slices and another beer later, I call it quits on Maggio’s.

The nervous energy thrumming in my veins pushes me out the door. It drives me home. It knows what I’m going to do before I’m even doing it.

With shaking hands, I head upstairs, treading lightly like I’ll get in trouble if I get caught.

He never saidnotto go upstairs, but it always felt implied. Even now, I feel like I’m breaking a rule. Maybe even the cardinal rule. What’s he going to do, though? Kick me out?Okay. Divorce me?Fine.

All the doors are suspiciously shut, making me want to roll my eyes that I’ll have to snoop actively. I can’t just wander.

Opening the first door in the hall, I’m preparing for the worst, but all I find is a completely nice and unused guest room.Oh. It’s decorated plainly, without a single personal touch.

I open the second door to the same thing. It’s honestly all boring. There are no skeletons or creepiness detected. Just well-made beds that look like they’ve never been slept in. I debate not even bothering with the last two rooms, but where’s the fun in that? It’s not like I’m getting my kicks off any other way.

My heart stutters when I open the third door to a child’s room.It’s beautiful.Magical even. Framed against floral wallpaper is a painting of a swan. There’s even a chandelier with lilac crystals hanging from its arms. Toys are gathered on the carpet, still diapers and wipes in the changing table caddies.

WhoeverJessis, I hate her.

She had everything: the family, the man, the house, and I hate her. For having everything I want. Andgod,how I want it all.

I close the door to the room that makes my empty uterus ache and walk down the hall to the primary bedroom. Well, I assume. It has double doors at its entrance instead of a single door like the other rooms have.

The double doors spread, opening to a large space with a big bed and a fireplace. It seems grand but still inviting, in a way. It makes my bedroom downstairs look like a shanty.

Why the hell are the two of us sharing the smallest room in the house when this is up here?