Happily Never After

“GOOD MORNING, SOPHIE,” I heard from the office to my left.

“Good morning, Ben,” I replied on autopilot, not even looking in that direction as I excitedly headed for my desk. I’d noticed while waiting for my coffee that Edie had “liked” the picture I’d posted on Instagram of Max and me before the wedding, so I was feeling good about the day’s promise.

“Morning, Sophie,” from my right, to which I responded, “Morning, Dallas.”

“Morning, Soph,” from the cubicle in the corner.

“Morning, Betsy,” I murmured, shooting her a big smile.

“Good morning, Sophie,” Izabel said, smiling with her head tilted, like she was surprised by my morning perk.

That’s right, Izzy—I’m a ray of damn sunshine.

“Good morning, Iz,” I replied. “How was your weekend?”

“Good. Yours?”

“Stupendous,” I said, not slowing my stride or lowering my grin.

“Good morning, Sophie,” Stuart said.

“Good morning,” I said loudly, still smiling, then added in a voice so low only he could hear, “you piece of shit.”

“Good morning, Sophie,” I heard from the corner office.

“Good morning, Amy,” I replied, feeling triumphant as I entered the HR area.

I’d made it to my department and could stop pretending to be a damn delight.

I could see that Edie was already in her office and on the phone, so I gave her a hand raise, to which she responded with a subsequent chin nod.

And a big-ass smile of her own.

Yes, yes, yes.

I logged in and got right to work, because I knew I had another meeting-filled day ahead of me. I got lost in the work until about thirty minutes later, when Edie came over and stood beside my desk with her arms crossed.

“So how was the wedding?” she asked, grinning.

I really was lucky to have a boss who genuinely had my best interests at heart. Everyone else in our department was at a seminar, so I was able to say without worrying about being overheard, “It was a blast. We didn’t—”

I was interrupted by my phone. I was getting a FaceTime call.

We’d never followed up after I mentioned it while we ran, but Max was FaceTiming me.

It showed up as Maxxie in my contacts, which Edie was definitely staring at.

“Do you need to get that?” she asked.

“Oh, um,” I stammered, not sure what to do because we hadn’t finalized details. “No, I can call him—”

“Just take it while everyone’s gone,” she said, looking like she wanted to laugh. “We can talk later.”

“Okay, but it’ll be quick.” I hit the green button, and Max appeared on-screen.

In a backward baseball hat, which I usually found to be a hot-but-douchey fashion choice. It looked good, but the men who wore it that way tended to be arrogant and incredibly fond of their own opinions.

On him, though, it just looked hot.

“Hello?” I said, then couldn’t remember if you said hello when you answered a FaceTime call or not.

“Soph,” he said, kind of loudly, his eyes twinkling as he looked at me. “Did I leave my wallet at your apartment?”

I spurted out a little laugh in shock, because that was the last thing I’d expected him to say. “I don’t think so. I mean, I haven’t seen it. I remember you grabbing your jacket on your way out, but I was so tired that I barely remember you leaving.”

His lips turned up into a naughty smirk, and I felt like a child, like I was about to dissolve into a fit of giggles. “Hmmm.”

“Did you maybe leave it at Starbucks yesterday morning?”

“No, you paid, remember?”

“That’s right.”

“Because you forced me out of bed before six on a Sunday, you sadist.”

I lowered my voice a little and said, “I’m so glad you were with me.”

His lips pursed in an aww, kid kind of way, and he looked sweet when he said, “Me, too. Are you good, by the way?”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He got a devilish look in his dark eyes and said, “You know I would’ve kicked his ass for you, right?”

“Are you a fighter, Parks?” I asked, smiling because he seemed too smart to be a hothead.

“I delivered the first punch of my life at the wedding last weekend, so absolutely I am.”

“Seriously?” My mouth fell open. “Well you dropped that guy, so bravo.”

He leaned closer to the camera and his voice was almost a whisper when he said, “I’m a fucking superhero, remember?”

I gave him an eye roll, but my stomach felt light at the sound of his sex voice. “Did you need anything else, Maxxie? Because some of us have work to do.”

“What are you doing for lunch?”

What? I wasn’t sure if this was real or pretend. “I brought a Lean Cuisine cauliflower crust pizza.”

“Gross. Want to grab Jimmy John’s instead?”

“With you?” I teased, liking the playfulness in his face.

“I mean, I suppose you can sit at a different table and speak to strangers, if you prefer.”

“Yes, I’ll do that.”

“What time do you take lunch?”

“Noonish,” I said, still a little unsure if he was actually going to take me to lunch or if this was all in the name of milking.

“Then I’ll pick you up at noonish for our non-talking, non-table-sharing lunch.”

“Looking forward to it,” I said. “And you better find that wallet, because I’m not paying again.”

“Goodbye, ballbuster,” he said, grinning.

“Later,” I replied, still smiling as he disconnected the call.

I put my phone into my pocket, but not without noticing that Edie was over at the door of Marsha—one of the other VPs—and they were smiling and looking in my direction.

That set me off, and I was on fire the rest of the morning, responding to emails at a fast clip and working on reports and generally being an overachiever.

But then an email came in. From Stuart.

Fucking Stuart.

I still couldn’t believe that he was seeing her, the girl who, before yesterday, I’d only seen in the naked picture I’d found on my fiancé’s phone mere hours before our wedding. When I looked up and saw him, smiling with Becca, it was like a fresh hit of betrayal. I’d panicked at the sight of them, anxiety causing me to totally freeze, but then Max had rescued me yet again.

He hadn’t actually done anything other than tower over Stuart and look threatening, but it felt like everything, like some sort of win.

Especially when I knew Stuart was sensitive about his height.

It gave me great pleasure to see him have to look up at Max in fear.

Although, to be fair, Max had looked dangerous when he’d stared down Stuart.

I honestly hadn’t been able to stop replaying it in my head, over and over again.

Also, he hadn’t asked any questions afterward, for which I was eternally grateful because I’d been too sad to speak. He asked if I was okay when we went outside, and when I just nodded, he moved on and proceeded to tell me the architectural history of all the buildings we passed on our walk home.

I clicked on Stuart’s email, which had been sent to the HR and marketing departments, as well as his entire sales team. I started reading, but it was filled with so much unnecessary language and so many cheesy buzzwords that my teeth were gritted by the time I reached the signature line.

God, he was so full of himself.

I just hate him so much.

Normally, I prided myself on drilling into his messages to find the one tiny thing he was wrong about and point it out—tactfully—to everyone on the chain. Was it petty? Probably. But not as petty as the way he’d told me the week after our canceled wedding that even if he hadn’t cheated, he didn’t love me anymore.

I don’t want to hurt you, Soph, but you need to let the cheating thing go. We fell out of love a long time ago and that’s what ended things.

FELL OUT OF LOVE.

Like it was simple, like we’d fallen out of a boat. Oops, we fell out.

If love was real, you couldn’t just fall out of it.

I inhaled through my nose and focused on the email.

And . . . I found it. I found his one tiny little mistake.

I hit reply all and typed:

Stuart,

This looks fantastic and we’re here to help. Circle back with exactly what level of support you’ll need.

Great job!

Sophie

It was almost painful, hitting send, but I was going to get that promotion sooner rather than later, damn it.

Max texted me at noon, letting me know he was there, and we had a perfectly casual lunch together. It was weird how comfortable I felt with him already, and I was genuinely disappointed when it was time to go back to work.

“Is your office nearby?” I asked as he pulled into the lot and I unbuckled my seat belt.

“No, downtown,” he said, looking over at me through dark Oakleys. “But we’ve got a project over here, so I’m basically in the area every day.”

“Is that right?” I asked, opening the door. “Maybe we could do this again sometime. As friends, of course.” I grinned.

“Of course,” he said, and I wished I could see his eyes behind his sunglasses when his voice got quiet like that. “Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow it is.”