Page 102 of Happy Wife
“Hey, Nora,” a familiar voice called out. “Did you come to lend a hand?”
I turned around and smiled as nonchalantly as possible. Marcus was wearing a pair of beaten-up jeans and holding a hammer by the head. “Hey, Marcus,” I said.
I don’t need Este clocking my reticence.
But the way she could read a room was practically preternatural. She stood and grabbed her glass of wine. “I’m going to gocheck on Beau. He said he was looking for drill bits, and I’m not even sure he knows what that means.”
“Do you?” I asked.
She waved me away with a good-natured smile. “Fuck off.”
Marcus and I both laughed mildly. But I wanted to beg her not to leave. I couldn’t, of course. It would be too dramatic. The impulse was there all the same.
Marcus put the hammer down on Este’s chair and then sat facing me with his elbows on his knees. “How’ve you been? We’ve missed you at dinners.”
“I’ve been good.” I took a sip of my wine and tried to avoid his sight line. “Busy. We went to Palm Beach.”
“I’ve been worried about you.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“When I dropped you off, I just wasn’t sure how that was going to work out for you.”
“We’re not going to talk aboutthat.” I looked back at our house, feeling paranoid, as if somehow Will had superhero hearing and might catch the edges of this conversation. I know it was dumb, but going to Marcus’s had been foolish.
He looked confused and maybe even hurt. “What? Why not?”
“Because I don’twantto,” I hissed. “Did you tell Este anything?”
“No!”
“She keeps looking at me like she knows.”
“Knows about what?”
I look at him like it should be obvious.
“Deflecting. Again.”
Now I’m getting annoyed. “That’s not funny anymore.”
“I’m not kidding.”
“What do you want to know?” My hands started for my hips, but I stopped them. If I took that posture, I would have to explain it to Este later. I’d seen her wandering by the window twice.
Marcus pushed his hands through his hair. “I’ve been worried is all. Did you stick up for yourself? Did you get what you need?”
“We’re perfectly happy now.” It came out a little haughtier than I intended, and I felt guilty. Marcus had never been anythingbut kind to me. “It wasn’t that bad. It was just a fight. Married people fight.”
“Yeah. They fight, but they tend to avoid property damage.”
“Okay. We aredefinitelynot talking about that.”
I immediately regretted that I’d told him about the smashed glass. That’s not something you can untell someone. Especially someone like Marcus.
His expression grew wounded. “So, you just let him off the hook then?”
“I said what I needed to say, and he agreed.”
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