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That night we all watch movies snuggling on the couch and eat Alex’s homemade pizza. We camp out in the living room with the girls falling asleep on one couch and Alex, and I curl up together on the other.
It is the second time that day that I fall asleep with a blissful smile on my face. This was how things should be.

Sunday afternoon we drive Alex to the airport so he can fly to Raleig
h for a week to open a new distribution site. The girls and I wave to him as he walks through the security gate. Feeling impulsively silly, I blow him a two-handed kiss. He flashes his sexy grin, one I haven’t seen for a while and blows a two-handed kiss back to me and disappears into the crowd.

****

Monday was a pretty good day. I dropped Liv off at school and Jordyn at pre-school. Went to work. No Justin. Picked up the girls and took them to the park, made a big pot of pasta for dinner, talked to Alex on the phone for a while, went to bed.

Tuesday was fine. Got the girls to school. Busy work day. Still no Justin, fed the girls leftover pasta, responded to two text messages from Alex, bed.

Wednesday was okay. Got the girls to school. Ugh, annual audits at work. Where the fuck is Justin? Drive thru for dinner. Haven’t heard from Alex so I Facebook stalked him, but still got nothing. Drank a bottle of wine and then passed out.

Thursday sucked. Woke up hung over. Got Liv to school late and had to sign her into the office, dropped Jordyn off at preschool in the middle of circle time. Both girls were pretty mad at me. Called out of work and went home and got in bed. Why did my heart hurt worse than my head? He always manages to convince me that things will be different. He will make me a priority. What kind of man goes an entire day and doesn't call to check on his family at least once? I called and texted him twice. I drifted off as the tears of anger and hurt trailed down my cheeks.

Still Thursday, I think...

I woke up to my door bell ringing like crazy.
What the fuck?

I get out of bed and see that it’s noon. Which means that this is not Child Protective Services coming to tell me I’ve forgotten my children at school and that they will not be returning them home to me. I can see through the frosted beveled glass panel in the door that it's a man, as I get closer I know exactly who it is. Shit.

Justin.

And he can see me too.

I reach and unlock the door knowing that I look like shit but not being able to do anything about it. My hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail that I’m sure isn’t holding much hair anymore.
I’m barefoot with zero makeup. I’m wearing gray yoga pants and one of Alex’s old faded concert t-shirts. The same one I slept in.

“Justin. Hey.” I say after swinging the door open. He looks so ruggedly handsome standing there in his usual jeans and a black “Rich Construction.” t-shirt that always stretches across his muscular chest just right.
Stop it, Court.

“Courtney. Are you ok? They told me you were home sick.” His eyes were filled with concern as they looked me up and down. “I knocked a few times then I tried using your knocker, but it’s broken. So I started ringing your doorbell.”

“Yeah, the knocker has been broken for a while so it was kind of just hanging on by a prayer. I’ve asked Alex to fix that a million times.” I step forward and take the door-knocker from his hand. “I’m fine Justin. I didn’t feel well this morning, but I’m okay.”

Justin gestured behind me with his chin. “Is he…
??”

“No, he’s in North Carolina until Saturday.” Justin visibly relaxes just a bit. “Well, you may say you’re fine but you look horrible.” Then he steps by me and into the house uninvited. I certainly hadn’t planned to let him in. So I stare after him for several beats, stunned, then finally I close the door. I find Justin in my kitchen opening cabinets and drawers.

“What are you doing?” I sputter.

“Making you a hangover cure.”

“What? How do know I’m hung over.” He gives me a knowing glance and then tilts his chin at the empty wine bottle and glass that I left on the counter last night.

“The whole bottle, huh?”

“I didn’t know I’d drink the whole bottle until I was already drunk. Besides I’m not much of a drinker anymore since having the girls.”

“One bottle of this stuff will do it.”

The whole time he’s pouring and mixing things into a glass. I’m curious but not enough to ask questions. My stomach is queasy, and my head is pounding. He hands me a glass.

“Drink.” He commands. So I do. I can’t tell what it is. It’s kind of gross but for some reason I don't stop drinking. So I sit there, sip and study him.

“What are you doing here, Justin?”

“Checking on you.”

“No, really. Why are you here?”

His eyes move to me, and he stares at me but doesn’t say a word.

“Where have you been?” I finally ask in a whisper, breaking the silence. I hate how needy my voice sounds. He inhales and exhales before saying.

“Trying to stay away from you.”

“Why?”

“Because, Courtney.” He runs a hand through his hair and steps away from the counter and walks into the living room, and I follow. “Because of him. You’re another man’s wife. I have no business feeling the things I do when I’m around you, but I can’t help wishing you were mine.” He slaps his hand against the wall before continuing. “What pisses me off the most is that he,” He points to our wedding picture “has all of this,” He gestures around the room, “and you. The lucky son of a bitch is never here to appreciate it. He doesn’t appreciate you. He doesn’t deserve you.” His voice loses some of the anger and exchanges it for anguish.

“Justin! That’s enough. I think you’d better…”

“No Courtney. No. You know I’m right. You told me yourself. He hardly ever calls when he’s away. What kind of man does that? What kind of woman stands for that? You said that when he is here, you argue and then he sleeps on the couch. He doesn’t deserve you. I would never choose to sleep on the couch knowing you were waiting in my bed every night. Never.”

I have no idea why I shared those things with him. Up until the recital he was pretty much at the office every day and spent the majority of his time talking to me, eating lunch with me, and I thought, just being my friend. I didn't know he thought this was anything more than a flirty friendship. God, I feel stupid.

“Justin, you don’t know the whole story…”

“Tell me he makes you happy.”

“Justin--”

“Tell me that you don’t want more. Tell me you don’t deserve more.”

Silence.

“Have you talked to him today?

“No.” I should have lied.

“Yesterday?”

“Well, no but I…”
Shut up, Court.

“The day before that?”

“He texted me…” I knew I wasn't doing myself any favors with these answers. I hated how pathetic I sounded as I helped him prove his point.

“Fuck.” Justin shook his head and walked past me to the front door.

“Where are you going?” I asked running behind him.

“To get my tool box, so I can fix that knocker and anything else that needs it around here. Then I’m going to mow your fuckin’ lawn!” He answers over his shoulder seething but never broke his stride. My steps stopped, and I froze. I shouldn’t let him do any of that. I knew Alex would be so angry, but the little voice in my head didn't care.

Well Alex isn’t here is he? And hasn’t called to make sure everything at the house is okay, so who cares what he thinks.

I decided that the best course of action was to put some distance between Justin me and so I went upstairs and took a shower. I actually did feel better after drinking Justin’s concoction. While standing in the bathroom drying myself off, I let myself imagine what I would do if when I stepped into my bedroom, and Justin was sitting on my bed waiting for me. My first thought was that I would be shocked and angry and that I would make him leave. Or would I let him throw me back on the bed and...
Stop it, Court!

Gripping the towel tightly around me, I cautiously step out of the
en-suite bathroom and feel relief and disappointment that my bedroom is empty. Only the whirring sound of a power drill could be heard from downstairs.

Justin had me point out everything in the house that needed to be fixed, tightened and junked. After spending the rest of the afternoon upstairs cleaning, doing laundry and ge
nerally staying away from him it was time to go pick up the girls. I grabbed my purse and keys, hoping to sneak out and not deal with Justin and what he said earlier.

Except when I got downstairs he was standing in my kitchen shirtless and sweaty, guzzling down a bottle of water. He’d been mowing the lawn that was severely overgrown. Although it was winter in Florida, the grass still grows and needs to be cut just less frequently than in the spring and summer. Alex usually arranges for a lawn service, but I never know when they’ll show.

I clear my throat and will myself to stop eying Justin’s bare chest. “I have to go and pick up the girls. I really, um, appreciate your help with the door knocker, the leaking washer, getting my Christmas decorations down from the attic and the yard stuff.” All things I’ve asked Alex to help me with before but without success.

“Yeah. It needed to be done so…” He shrugs then reaches for his shirt and puts it on. “I noticed you’re missing a few wooden slats in your fence out back. I took the measurements and will come back and replace them.”

“Oh. Ok. Thanks.” I look down at my feet, and shift from side to side, not sure how to feel about him coming back to my house.

“Look, Courtney, about what I said earlier…”

“It’s okay. Really. You don’t have to apologize. I should have said something…”

“I’m not apologizing.” He reaches me in two strides and places his hand under my chin, forcing me to look up at him. “I meant every word of it. I like you. I like you a lot, Courtney. I just can’t stand by and watch you be with someone who doesn’t…”

“Shh.” I put my hand to his mouth. “Stop.” He shook his head, trying to move my hand. “I don't know what’s happening right now. Give me some time to sort this out. Okay. Please?”

Justin nodded and then lowered his head to plant a soft kiss on my cheek. When he pulled back his smile was full of understanding and hope before walking out of the front door. Why couldn't I stop myself from envisioning something more with
him.

Oh God. What Am I going to do?

Chapter Ten

      Past- 10 years ago
.

“What's your favorite color?

“Green. Yours?”

“Blue, I guess.”

“Favorite food.”

“Um, mac and cheese.”

“Good choice, that's a top five favorite food for me. Do you like roller coasters?”

“Yes and I prefer the front row. Do you like mustard?’”

“Ick. No.” I scrunch my nose up at him before he places a kiss there.

Alex and I lay in each other's arms calling out random questions to each other. It was the night of my college graduation and two days after we declared our love for one another. Each night we would call out our questions, usually post sex. We have an insatiable urge to know everything about each other.

“When’s your birthday?”

“November 19th.” Alex answers.

“Shut up! It is not!”

He chuckles at my response. “It is. What so unbelievable about that?”

“My birthday is November 19th.”

“Shut up!” Alex playfully mimics the tone I used earlier.

“Get your driver’s license. I need proof.”

“Fine, but you need to get yours, too.”

We both get out of his bed quickly. He rummages through the clothes he discarded in a hurry all over the floor and pulled out his wallet. I found my purse hanging on the back of his closet door and slipped my driver’s license out. Clutching it tightly to my naked chest, I hurried back under the covers at the same time as Alex. We stared at each other for a moment before exchanging licenses.

I read his full name. Alexander Presley Turner. Learning his middle name excited me, it was something we hadn’t shared yet. Sure enough, his birthday was November 19
th
, just a year earlier than mine.

“Well, damn.” Alex’s eyes still scan my license. “It looks like we do share the same birthday, Courtney Petunia Collins.” He emphasized my middle name and then threw his head back in laughter. “Petunia, that’s adorable, babe.”

“Shut it, Alex. I have no idea what my parents were on when they gave me that name. It was supposed to be my first name until my Aunt Maggie talked them out of it. God love that woman. She’s still my favorite aunt to this day. Imagine how it felt to have my full name announced at high school graduation. Talk about humiliating.”

“Well for what it’s worth, I could have easily been named Elvis, but luckily my parents decided that using Elvis’s last name was tribute enough.”

“They named you after Elvis Presley? Wow, what the hell were our parents thinking? I promise never to do that to my kids.”