Page 17 of The Marriage Rebound

As I walked toward the elevator, I fired off a text to Tina, letting her know where I’d gone in case I didn’t make it back before she woke up in the morning. She’d been kind enough to let me stay. I didn’t want her thinking I’d just dipped out.

The streets were damn near empty, which made the drive quick and painless. It also provided me with more quiet time to think—honestly, the last thing I wanted to do. I’d been doing nothing but thinking, wondering, fixating on how the hell to fix whatever was wrong between me and Sasha. And that was the real issue, I didn’t know how we’d gone so fucking left. Yes, we’d had our ups and downs, but Shae hadn’t been wrong when she pointed out how this time was different.

I’d left our home. I’d left her. Especially given her history with her parents, I knew she probably wouldn’t handle it well. Even temporarily, but still . . . I’d left. That’s not who I was. I didn’t give up and quit. I didn’t run. But I’d felt I’d had no choice but to leave. I could handle a lot. Put responsibility on my shoulders and pushed through because that’s how I was built. I did it for my sister. I did it for my team. And, of course, for my wife.

However, I had to believe the sacrifice was worth it. That what I was fighting for meant something. And that belief had been shaken.

I was so deep in thought, I arrived at The Candy Shop apparently damn near on autopilot. Given it was close to closing time, the parking lot was nearly empty. I pulled up to the valet stand, parking close, but out of the way in case they had to retrieve cars of the last few stragglers.

“Ma’am, we’ll be closing in like twenty minutes,” the young guy commented as he opened my door.

“It’s all good, my guy. I’m just doin’ a pickup. Darrell called me. Am I good to leave it here?”

He nodded and went back to his seat as I headed inside. It took my eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim lighting. Darrell was perched on a stool just inside the blacked-out double doors.

“Courtney, hey.”

“What up. I hope she wasn’t too much of an issue.”

“Nah, not really. The more she drank, the more she tipped so . . .” He shot me a look that was sympathetic, possibly.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, already dreading looking at the bank statement after tonight. There was a performer on the stage dancing to a remix of “Let’s Get It On” who seemed to be barely dialing it in for the straggler crowd. The smokiness of the place gave everything a semi-hazy appearance, which wasn’t helped by the low lighting.

Darrell led us through the main area back toward the VIP rooms. A couple of the waitresses stood at the bar, chatting, and I threw up an acknowledging wave as I passed.

Inside room one, I walked in to see Sasha and Denise dancing by the pole. Sasha was laughing and giving Denise intermittent smacks to the ass while Denise twerked in front of her.

You have to be fucking kidding me.

This was a surreal, “be careful what you wish for” moment. I had no issue with Sasha getting dances. Hell, we’d gone to strip clubs as a couple plenty. But seeing Sasha with her . . . especially with everything she said, and knowing how handsy and flirty my wife got when drunk, my annoyance level spiked to a hundred. Darrell cleared his throat, getting their attention. Denise stood slowly, the same smug smirk she had the day at the arena making its way onto her face.

Sasha looked in our direction, and a giant grin formed on her lips. “Bay-bee. Whadda you doin’ here?”

She stumbled toward me, falling into my arms, forcing me to take a couple steps back to steady us both. She wrapped her arms around my neck and stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss me. I turned so she made contact with my cheek.

“I woulda got her home,” Denise said, strolling up to us. Her body glitter shimmered in the low light, with the heaviest concentration being between her bare breasts so that patrons’ attention would be drawn there.

Sasha leaned into me more and I tightened my grip on her waist. “Well, she called me, so I guess she didn’t trust you to do that.”

Denise crossed her arms over her chest, the smirk dropping from her face. Darrell stood at the doorway, looking nonchalant, but I was sure he was ready to step in should things escalate.

“Bay-bee, I’m hungry. Take me to Waffle House.” Sasha kissed at my chin, attempting to tug my head down to reach my lips, which broke the stare down between me and her friend.

Leaning down, I gave Sasha a quick peck then cut my eyes back up at Denise. “Sure thing. Let’s get you out of here, first.”

I usually wasn’t the jealous type, but Denise’s attitude coupled with Sasha’s lack of boundaries was a bad combination for me. Plus, I had no doubt Sasha had probably told Denise I’d left, but Sasha was still my wife, and that fact needed to be clear. Whatever problems we may have, we were still a we.

“M’kay. Take me home, bay-bee. I jus’ wanna be wit’ you.”

“We’re going, baby. I wanna be with you too.”

Denise rolled her eyes and smacked her lips. “Whatever. I gotta pack up anyway.” She sashayed out of the room, brushing against me in the process.

I blew out a breath and shook my head. I was too tired for any of this shit. Sasha drooped beside me, and I had to adjust to support more of her body weight.

“Yo, you need some help?” Darrell asked.

“Nah, I got her. If you could grab her purse though.”