Page 47

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I try to wait up for Blake at night, but it’s hard when he gets home at close to midnight.

It’s worth it though. When he gets home and sees me sitting on the couch, waiting for him, maybe with a plate full of freshly baked cookies, he looks so happy. The bright smile that spreads across his face makes my knees weak, even after nearly two years. Like I said, I can’t wait to be his wife.

I really loved Jordan. I thought that he and I would get married someday, although I now recognize that high school relationships aren’t meant to last. When I found out he was cheating on me, it destroyed me. He broke me.

That’s why I had to do what I did. I’m not some homicidal sociopath. I simply knew that I could not be happy while Jordan was still alive and existing in this world.

So I fixed it.

Blake is the first man I have loved since Jordan. The first time he showed up to get his suit dry-cleaned, I knew that he was the one. That’s why I kept giving him fake discounts on the dry cleaning until he asked me out. It certainly took him long enough! He was so clearly interested, so when he didn’t ask, I investigated to see what was going on.

After camping out at the address Blake listed on his dry-cleaning slip, I discovered he was dating a skinny girl with white-blond hair who smoked like a chimney— such a disgusting habit. When they were at a restaurant together, I paid a waitress to alert his girlfriend that he’d been at the same place only a few days early with another girl, acting hot and heavy. She did it while Blake was in the bathroom, and the look on the girlfriend’s face was exactly what I’d been hoping for. A few days later, Blake asked me out.

That other girl would never have made him happy in the long run. I did him a huge favor.

Tonight, it’s closer to one when Blake’s keys turn in the door to the brownstone we moved into together a few months ago. It has three bedrooms, and I knew Blake was going to pop the question soon when he mentioned that the middle one would be perfect as a nursery. It was so sweet when he suggested getting a fish to practice for when we’re parents together, and I’ve been taking my fish mom responsibilities very seriously in order to prove myself to him. And I try to be understanding about his work, because I know this promotion is important to him, but it’s hard.

I try my best though. I try to be the wife he wants me to be.

I rise from the sofa just as Blake stumbles into the foyer. His brown hair is slightly disheveled, and his tie is hanging loose around his neck. I take a second just to gaze at him. He’s very handsome, but he barely seems aware of it. Maybe that’s why he’s not as self-involved as other good-looking men I’ve dated. Lately he’s been talking more about how he wants to give me all the things that his father wasn’t wealthy enough to give his mother before she died. He’s focused on the big picture.

As he comes into the living room and sees me standing there, I expect to see that familiar pleased smile spread across his face. But instead, he just looks surprised.

“Krista,” he says. “I didn’t know you would be awake. It’s almost one in the morning.”

“I waited up,” I say proudly.

“Oh.”

“And I made you cookies.”

That ought to get a reaction out of him. He loves the cookies that I bake—they always put a smile on his face. But instead, he pats his stomach. “Better not. I’m starting to get a gut.”

He isn’t—at all. On top of work, he religiously goes to the gym twice a week, and he’s closer to a six-pack than a gut. And also, when has he ever cared about that? Who does he need to impress? After all, I’m already in love with him.

Blake comes closer to give me a kiss, and I expect it to be one of our usual long, lingering kisses that often leads to the bedroom. But instead, it’s a peck on the lips. The sort you give your wife of forty years.

And when he pulls away, I notice something else:

His shirt is buttoned wrong.

I’m going to wager that there is no way Blake went through his entire sixteen-hour day with his shirt missing a button. At some point, he unbuttoned his shirt. And then hastily buttoned it again before coming home.

Also, I smell perfume.

But no, I’m being paranoid. Blake wouldn’t cheat on me. He is a good guy, unlike Jordan. He wants to spend his life with me. He wants to fill the bedrooms upstairs with children. He loves me.

And yet…

I run my fingers down his chest. “You know,” I say playfully. “I’m not very tired. Any chance you want to have a little fun?”

“Krista.” He looks at me in astonishment. “It’s one in the morning!”

That has never stopped him before. We have had sex at all hours of the night. He is always in the mood if I am.

Except right now, apparently.

He leans in to peck my lips again. “Sorry, I’m just beat tonight. That Henderson campaign is kicking my ass. But tomorrow…” He manages a tiny smile. “I’m going to rock your world, okay? Rain check?”

“Uh-huh,” I say, crestfallen.

He looks at me for a moment, then surprises me by pulling me in tight for a hug. “I love you, Krista. So much. I can’t wait to marry you, babe.”

“I love you too,” I say back.

I do love him. So much.

But I don’t trust him.