Read Online #TripleX by Christine Zolendz, Angelisa Stone - Free Book Online

argued.
    “He’s the father of my boys. Of course, I love him. But it’s… it’s not… it’s just over, okay?” I said, sighing and standing up to face my husband.
    Walking back down the stairs, I felt like I was walking to my execution, ready to face the firing squad that would inevitably end my life and stop my heart from ever beating again. Turning the corner into the kitchen, my breath caught, and my anger boiled.
    Mother Suck a Cat!
    He looked incredible—so freaking incredible. Where were his Coke bottle glasses? Where the Hell was the gray hair that sprinkled the sides of his head? Were those Polo Jeans? He was slightly tanner, too—sun-kissed and golden. He must be golfing more. Staring longer, I realized he was definitely thinner. He looked about twenty pounds lighter. Christ, it’d only been three weeks since I’d seen him. How could he lose twenty pounds in three weeks? The only thing I’d lost in the last three weeks was my dignity, self-esteem, and sanity.
    What in God’s name was that all about?
    Matt met someone.
    Another woman was the only reason a middle-aged man would start looking this good, this irresistibly good. My husband was boning some young skank on the side. He had to be.
    Laughing at some absurd joke Evan told him, Matt’s face lit up and his laughter filled the room. My heart fluttered and sunk. Christine shoved me into the kitchen. Matt turned and looked at me. Our eyes met, and a boyish grin splayed across my husband’s face.
    “Angelisa, my God, you… you… you look beautiful,” he said, walking toward me. Opening his arms, he tried to hug me, at which point, I backed up, and said, “This is Christine; Christine Zolendz, my critique partner and friend from New York. Remember, I said she’d be here?” I sputtered, organizing all the papers on the island and handing him a manila folder. “Here is everything you need to know about the kids. I have all their insurance information, medical forms, everything that you might—”
    “Ang, I’m their father—not some babysitter. I know what they need,” he said, walking over to me. “I know their allergies, their likes, dislikes, hopes, fears—everything. I’m their Dad. Not only do I know everything about them… I know it about you too, Lou.”
    Ignoring the tug on my heartstrings at the sound of my nickname, I said, “Speaking of that, I still have you as my emergency contact on my forms. I haven’t gotten around to changing any of my paperwork yet. But once I get back from Vegas—”
    “So, you two are really doing this?” he asked, looking between Christine and me for confirmation.
    “Of course, do you never listen to me… can you ever take me seriously? For God’s sake, Matt—”
    “Lou, I just asked. I knew you wanted to go. I told you that I thought it would be good for you—for both of you,” he nodded toward Christine. “You just never told me that you guys had actually decided to go. That’s all. I think you should go. You need this. People need to see just how wonderful and talented and perfect you really are.”
    Every time I hear Matt call me “Lou,” I’m a teenager again, and my heart flutters like the first time. The first time Matt ever called me “Lou,” we’d been drinking in his backyard after I snuck out to meet him one night. He’d drunk a lot that night, and he told me that he loved me for the first time ever.
    Sort of.
    It was a storybook tale.
    Sort of.
    The stars were out. Fireflies were lighting up the trees that we were tucked under while crickets chirped somewhere in the distance. There was a cool breeze that left a chill on my arms in the warm, humid air. Matt brushed the hair out of my eyes, and said, “Ang, I love Lou. I mean, I yove lou.”
    It was the most perfectly ridiculous and romantic thing he’d ever said to me. He’d called me “Lou” ever since, trying desperately to hide the fact that he hadn’t just screwed up my name and ruined the first time a boy