“My life is pretty boring.” She looks back at Blair. “What about you?”
“Well”—she tucks her black bob behind one ear while she thinks—“I’ve just been working a lot.”
“Wait.” Carly grabs her arm, staring at her shirt. “Is that blood splatter on your sleeve?”
We all lean forward, trying to get a look too.
“It is blood!” Juliet’s eyes go wide. “Blair, what happened!”
“Oh, nothing.” She pulls her arm back, hiding the sleeve under the table. “A coworker had a bloody nose and sneezed. So, you know, blood went everywhere.”
Carly’s face contorts. “Gross. Why didn’t you change?”
“I wanted to, but I came straight from work.”
Emma frowns. “I thought you said you came straight from the airport.”
“Right. Work, then straight to a flight, then straight here.” She casually picks up her drink and looks at Carly. “What’s going on with you and Nate?”
There’s a big smile that spills across Carly’s face. “He’s just so great. Literally,Nate is great.”
“Are their wedding bells in your near future?” Juliet asks.
“Maybe, but we’ve only been dating, like, two months, so there’s plenty of time before we need to figure that out.” She turns to me. “Now we just need Camila’s life update.”
“Let me guess,” Juliet laughs. “You’ve just been working all the time.”
Yes, work is my typical update, but not this time.
I mean, it would bring the house down if I told them I was married and living with my estranged husband.
I sayestrangedbecause, although we’re living together, I’ve made it impossible for Hess and me to have any kind of relationship. I’m never home, and when I am home, I mostly stay in my bedroom, which I thought was a good idea at first but quickly learned there are downfalls to hiding away in my room.
My massive bedroom windows face the horse corral and have become the portal to all my cowboy fantasies.
Except, nothing about what I’ve seen is a fantasy.
It wasveryreal.
Like the way Hess’s shirt stuck to him with sweat as he repaired a fence, muscles flexing with each lift.
Or how his cowboy hat tipped low against the sun, giving him that rugged, mysterious silhouette.
And let’s not forget about the time he took a break, pulling off his hat, wiping sweat from his brow, drinking water straight from the hose, then dousing himself with the cold liquid as it trickled over his head and body.
Holy hay bales, it was attractive.
I miss the old Hess. The one who wore tennis shoes and regular shirts and was just a regular, nice guy. Where did that man go? I’d give anything for him to come back instead of this hot-rancher version of himself.
But I’m straying from the point.
Under no circumstances will I be telling my friends tonight about Hess, our marriage, our court-ordered living arrangements, or the ranch in Queen Creek. Honestly, I’m surprised at how easy it’s been to keep this marriage a secret from our friends and families. I thought for sure we’d have a pop-in by now, but so far, so good, which is very good for me.
Despite it all, I still can’t bring myself to admit out loud that I’m married.
Nobody would understand my reasons.
It’s best just to keep this to myself.
