Page 45 of Infidelity Rules

I’m standing outside my parent’s condo, stamping my feet in the cold. There’s no way I can go in until I see Alex. So I text him.

Me: Alex. Meet me outside ASAP. Don’t tell mom and dad I’m here yet.

I get a response back almost immediately, thankfully, as I can’t feel my toes.

Alex: I’m not even there yet. Running late. Will be there in a few minutes.

Me: Park out front and leave the heater running. I’m going to jump in when you get here. I need to talk to you. And It’s freezing out!

I’m in Baltimore for our usual Sunday family dinner, but I have to talk to Alex before facing my mom and dad.

It’s been a few weeks since Marcus left Juliette and the only person who knows is Julian.

It seems too huge to do over text, so I wanted to wait until I saw Alex in person.

Same with the bride-to-be. Our schedules just haven’t matched up what with all the wedding planning on her end and all the Marcus canoodling on mine.

Marcus.

I still cannot believe he’s left his wife.

I’m an emotional smorgasbord, ricocheting from heart soaring joy to sheer, sweat soaked panic.

Do I really want this? I know he’s technically still married, but he’s told her it’s over and he’s moved out.

To D.C. no less! I want Marcus, but I don’t know if I can stomach everything that comes with a real relationship.

Thankfully, we aren’t discussing the future yet, just loving the fact that he no longer has to answer to Juliette.

And I no longer have to think about anniversary sex.

Or any other kind of intimacy between them.

He’s made it clear that it’s over between them, regardless of me, which takes some of the pressure off.

I don’t know what our future holds, but I’m slowly starting to warm to the idea of having a real boyfriend.

And I find that the moments of bliss seem to surpass the times of hysteria. But ask me again in an hour.

.....

I shove my gloved hands into my pockets and look up in time to see Alex in his blue Honda CRV slide into a parking spot along the street. I jump in, grateful for the heat.

“What’s up?” he says, putting the car in park and turning to face me. “What’s with that lunatic grin on your face?”

I get straight to the point.

“Marcus left Juliette,” I blurt out. “He’s rented an apartment in D.C.”

Alex just looks at me, the expression on his face reminding me so much of Julian.

“What?” I say, punching him in the arm. “Why are you looking at me like that? Say something.”

“This is big, Quinn,” he says, a smile slowly emerging. “You’re free. You’re finally free.”

“What the heck does that mean?” I ask, happy to see him smiling at the news.

“You broke out of your married men only habit. You’re free of Chris. And Liam.”

I shrug. “Maybe. But we haven’t discussed anything further. I don’t even know yet if he’s planning on a divorce. And I still don’t even know if that’s what I want.”

“I’m just happy you stuck around,” Alex says, leaning over to give me a hug. “I’m happy you didn’t run the moment he moved out.”

“It’s funny, he never even mentioned he was seriously thinking about leaving Juliette. He just moved out and told me after the fact. I never really had a say in the matter.”

“So, by default, you ended up with an almost single man in spite of yourself. Is that what you’re saying?” Alex asks, laughing.

“I suppose.”

“Well, I’m not surprised by Marcus at all. From what little I know of him, the man goes after what he wants. And I have a feeling he often gets it.”

I smile at that. “You better believe it. But you like Marcus, don’t you?”

“Absolutely. Even more now.”

“Good. Because he’s coming to dinner tonight,” I say, as I open the car door.

“You’re bringing him home to meet mom and dad? Tonight?” Alex asks, incredulous. “Do they know?”

“Yes, he’ll be here soon and no, they have no idea. That’s why I wanted to fill you in first. I’d like not to reveal that he’s still married at this point.”

Alex just shakes his head. “This should be interesting. Are you sure you’re ready to introduce him?”

“I can’t keep hiding him. We’re sort of a couple now, whatever that means. And I’m in love,” I say simply. “Besides, he’s going to be my plus-one at Dezi’s wedding, so they need to meet him eventually.”

“You’re the boss,” says Alex. “I just pray he files for divorce soon.”

.....

We walk into my parent’s condo and I can tell immediately what my mom is making for dinner.

I inhale the warm, yeasty aroma of her sausage bread and homemade minestrone soup.

Yum. What a perfect, cold weather combination — hot soup and big slabs of cheesy sausage bread slathered with spicy mustard.

I adore her sausage bread so much I almost forget that Marcus is on his way.

Almost.

“Smells fantastic mom,” I say, shedding my coat, hat and gloves and handing over four bottles of simple Italian red wine.

“Don’t you look nice,” says my dad, coming over to kiss my cheeks and give me a hug.

“Thanks.” I smile. I suppose I am dressed a bit nicer than usual, for obvious reasons. Just because Marcus is separated doesn’t mean I can start slobbing around in fleece and flannel all the time.

“What’s new?” my mother asks, turning away from her pot of minestrone soup and eyeing me suspiciously. She knows something is up. I never dress in snug jeans, sexy, over-the-knee boots and tight sweaters for Sunday dinners at home.

May as well get right to it.

“Dezi is engaged,” I say excitedly. “Oh, and my boyfriend is coming tonight.”

A chunk of Parmesan cheese falls out of my mother’s mouth. Now I see where I get it from.

“Great,” says my dad, pulling out an extra wineglass and table setting. “On both counts.”

“That explains the outfit,” my mother says. “But since when do you have a boyfriend?”

“It’s pretty new, so don’t give him the third degree, okay?” I ask, mentally crossing my fingers that she behaves. “Alex has already given him the thumbs up.”

Alex shoots eyeball daggers at me from across the room.

“Alex,” my mother says. “Is this true? You’ve met your sister’s young man?”

Alex nods. “Yup. He’s a good guy. You’ll like him.”

My mother quickly gets over the fact that she was the last to know and simply beams. “We are just so glad that you’re finally dating again. Aren’t we Samuel?” she says, turning toward my father.

My father nods and winks at me. “Don’t worry, we’ll be good. Now get in here and have a glass of wine.”

I’m sipping my wine and enjoying a few chunks of cheese with dried figs when I feel the atmosphere shift. It’s an almost indescribable sensation, as if Marcus is invisible but hovering so close I could lean in and give him butterfly kisses. It’s what I have come to know as the Marcus Phenomenon.

He is in the air.

And sure enough. Marcus is now at the door.

I fling it open and Marcus scoops me up and into his arms. Our usual greeting often includes some fun in the bedroom. Or kitchen. Or on the living room sofa. Or in the shower. But, alas, not today.

Marcus shakes my father’s hand, says hello to Alex and then completely wins over my mother by pulling her in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s so great to finally meet you,” he says, training his twinkling, Tahoe-blue eyes on her face.

“I’ve heard so much about you,” he smiles and looks around. “All of you.”

My mother is pink faced and swooning. I totally get it. Marcus is tall and chiseled and charming with his vivid, laughing eyes and disarming smile. He also is currently sporting a five o’clock shadow, which certainly doesn’t tamp down the sexiness factor.

“My, my,” says my mother, looking up at him and fanning herself with a dish towel. “You are so tall. And so handsome,” she says, glancing at me, eyebrows raised.

What? I’ve never brought home a cute guy before? Sheesh. But she’s right, Marcus is unequivocally, over-the-top, hot.

Marcus just smiles, hands her a bouquet of winter lilies and tells her everything smells delicious. Then he asks what he can do to help. The man is winning big, which I am very grateful for. The more they love him, the less they’ll pick over his history.

“Nonsense,” says my mother, shooing him out of her kitchen. “You can help by enjoying a glass of wine and some snacks before dinner.”

“Well that I can most definitely do,” he says, taking me by the hand. “Alright gorgeous,” he says to me. “Take me to your wine and food. Your mother’s orders.”

My mom cannot stop grinning. Marcus won her over in an instant. Either that, or she’s just so deliriously happy that I’m dating again that she can’t help herself. Regardless, it’s an excellent outcome.

I settle Marcus with a glass of wine and a plate of cheese, figs and prosciutto with lemon.

We join my father and Alex at the bar as my mother slides a tray of her sausage bread into the oven.

The three of them converse easily, Marcus inquiring about Alex’s latest news story and then asking my father about a new medication his mother just started and its potential side effects.

Another win-win for Marcus. Saying my brother loves discussing the top news stories of the day is an understatement.

It’s like proclaiming that Michael Jordan enjoys basketball.

As for my father, well, he loves nothing more than discussing all things pharmaceutical. Once you get him started, he rarely stops of his own accord.

My brain starts to flame out as I hear my dad mention things like vasoconstriction and hypertension and skin sloughing. I glance at Marcus, but he seems genuinely interested and is now asking follow-up questions, much to my father’s delight.

The evening continues to go smoothly. My parents ask Marcus all the normal questions — where do you live, how did you two meet, where are you from, what do you do for a living — but don’t pry, thank goodness. Of course, why would they have any reason to ask if he’s married?

I didn’t think the evening could get any better until my father finds out Marcus was a Navy pilot. His eyes light up and now both Alex and my dad are peppering him with all sorts of military and pilot questions. What is it with men and airplanes?

But hey, whatever works. I’m just so relieved the night has been a success.

Marcus charmed the pants off my parents, so to speak, and he and Alex bonded a bit more, so I am happy.

Sort of, anyway. If I’m being totally honest here, I’m trying to ignore a tiny voice in my head and heart telling me I should have waited.

For what, exactly, I’m not sure. For him to file for divorce?

For me to know for sure that’s what I want?

I sigh inwardly. I guess it really doesn’t matter as it’s too late now.

I have unleashed Marcus. And, more importantly, I have unleashed my mother and all her dreams of marrying me off for good this time.

What have I done?

I shake it off. It’s already done. I look over at Marcus and he’s eyeing me questioningly while giving my knee a gentle squeeze. I can’t help but smile, the man knows me well. He leans in close to me. “You okay?” he whispers into my ear.

I nod. “Just tired. And full.”

“That I understand,” he says, patting his absurdly flat, six-pack abs. “I’m stuffed.”

“Don’t let my mother hear you say that.” As if on cue, my mom comes to the table with a tray of dessert. I’m grateful to see it’s just espresso and her homemade anise biscotti, so nothing over the top. Even so, I cannot eat another bite.

Apparently, this is not the case for Alex and Marcus, who both start crunching through cookies.

“Quick,” says Alex, employing our desert island game as my mom and dad head into the kitchen to make more espresso. “If you could only take two people with you to a desert island, who would you take? And it cannot be anyone here.”

“Seriously, Alex?” I groan. “Too many rules.”

“Go,” he says, looking at me.

I think for a moment. “Well, if I cannot take any of you hoo-hahs, then it’s Dezi and Julian.”

“Julian, huh?” says Marcus, eyeing me sideways. “Your bartender, Julian?”

“Yes.” I smile at Marcus. “Jealous, are we?”

Marcus laughs. “Not in the least. I think I’d take Julian myself.” He winks at me. “Always good to have an excellent bartender around. Especially on an island.”

“And who else?” I ask.

“You,” he says, nuzzling my neck. “Sorry Alex. I don’t play by the rules.”

“I’ve noticed.” Alex shakes his head and tosses a cookie at Marcus.

“Who doesn’t play by the rules?” asks my mother, returning to the table. “And Alex, did you just throw a biscotti at our guest?”

Marcus, Alex and I all burst out laughing.

“I can see you three are going to be a real handful,” says my mother, feigning exasperation.

A few minutes later, we say our goodbyes and collect our winter coats and hats. My mother hands us bags of leftover sausage bread and biscotti and kisses us both on the cheeks.

“Now Marcus, when do we get to see you again? Don’t go hiding him from us,” she says, looking pointedly at me.

“I’m already looking forward to it,” Marcus says, thanking my parents for the evening and the leftovers.

“Soon, I promise,” I say, giving my mom a big hug.

I wave goodbye to Alex, who gives me a grin and the thumbs up sign. He obviously thinks the evening went well, too.

The door is just closing behind us when I overhear my mother say, “He’s such a catch. I wonder why he’s not married?”

Marcus and I look at each other, eyebrows raised.

“Dodged that bullet,” I say.

“You know, I soon won’t be,” he says, holding my gaze.

“Won’t be what?”

“Married,” he whispers. “I soon won’t be married.”