“Is that why he left you?” I ask quietly. “You never would tell anyone.”

“No.” She shakes her head and refills her glass. I consider suggesting she slow down, but what’s the harm? “I left him because I came home early from work one afternoon to find him fucking Sheila in our bed.”

“Sheila the new wife?” My voice is an octave higher than normal, my eyes wide in alarm.

“The same one.” She toasts me with her glass. “He said that it was my fault. I was too preoccupied with getting pregnant, only wanting to have sex when I was ovulating, blah, blah, blah. At the end of the day, he fucked around because he’s an asshole.”

I nod, shocked. “And then he married her?”

“Oh, honey”—Jill laughs humorlessly—“he married her two days after our divorce was final.”

“No fucking way!” I can’t feel my lips now as I fill my glass again. “What an asshole!”

“First-class asshole, for sure.” She bites her lip and looks at me with big tears in her eyes. “Why couldn’t I give him a baby, Cara? What’s wrong with me?”

“Oh, sweetie, nothing is wrong with you. Maybe you just weren’t supposed to have babies with him because he’s a first-class asshole.”

“I guess.”

“Is that why you came home for the holiday?”

“Yeah, I had just found out and I needed to be home to clear my head. And I realized that home is where I need to be. The only thing holding me here is my job, and I can sell houses back home just as easily as I can here.”

“Yes, you can.” I smile widely.

“Can I crash with you?”

“Of course. Like you even have to ask.” My phone beeps with an incoming text. “You didn’t turn it off?”

Josh: I miss you.

“No, what’s the point?” She leans her head against the couch and sighs.

“I don’t want to be nice to him.” I frown at the phone as the letters blur together. “I mean, I know I screwed up, but he wasn’t very nice to me.”

“Don’t be.”

“Okay.” I grin as I begin to text him back.

Meat me above.

“What did you say?”

“I told him to leave me alone,” I smirk. “Okay, now let’s talk about Zack.”

“He’s so sexy,” Jill purrs. “Like, so, so, so, so sssssssexy.”

“God, you’re so drunk.” I laugh and take another sip of wine, dribbling some down my blouse. My phone beeps again.

Josh: Huh?

“He’s not the brightest lightbulb in the box, is he?” I ask Jill, and try again.

Go Adam.

“There, I told him to go away.” I lay the phone on the coffee table and settle back with my wine. “Okay, tell me about Zack. Is he hung?”

“Are you paying me back for when I was home and hounded you about Josh?”

“Hell to the yes!”

“They’re identical-twin brothers, Cara. What do you think?”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that.” I take a sip and think about Josh’s beautiful body. “Does he have a freckle right here?” I point to my pelvis, just to the left of my pubis.

“Yes! How funny.” She giggles and takes a sip of wine, also thinking. “Does Josh have dimples above his ass?”

“Yes, and, oh my God, they are so fucking lickable.” I fall back against the cushions as if in the middle of an orgasm, making Jill laugh.

“I know! And their shoulders? Hello, hot muscles!”

We’re laughing in earnest now, our wine set aside.

“When he kisses, is it, like, hot and intense, or soft and sweet?” I ask, daydreaming about Josh kissing me.

“Zack is super intense. Like, he grips on to my neck, not like he’s choking me, just, you know, holding on to me, and kisses like he never wants to stop. Damn, he’s really good at it.”

“Josh is too.”

“Does Josh do this thing where he hooks your legs up over his shoulders—”

“And pushes down on the backs of your thighs?”

“Yes! Oh my God, that makes me hot.” Jill fans herself.

“I wonder if they ever compare notes.”

We just stare at each other for a few seconds, then burst into giggles again.

“So what happened?” I ask. “Why didn’t you tell him you were leaving in the morning? The sex didn’t suck.”

“The sex was ah-mazing, like with a capital A.” She frowns, pursing her pretty pink lips. “I didn’t expect him to fuck me and then slip out in the middle of the night without saying good-bye.”

“I don’t think it was a one-night-stand thing, Jill.” My eyes won’t stay open now. “Jesus, how much wine did we have?”

“Three bottles. Why don’t you think it was a one-nighter?”

“Because the next day he was freaked-out, asking me where you were.”

“What?” she screeches, and pulls on my arm. “You never told me that!”

“I figured he would have called you.”

“He hasn’t.” She sighs and lays her head on my lap. I sink my fingers in her thick dark hair and comb my fingers through it, over and over.

“Maybe he doesn’t know what to say,” I offer.

“Maybe the sex really wasn’t very good, and he just didn’t know how to tell me.” She sighs deeply and then sits straight up. “Shit!”