“Yes. We agreed she’d stay in the house while the lawyers fight over the details of who gets to keep what. I’ve rented a place overlooking Central Park. The view is spectacular. You’d love it.”
It’s a little weird that he avoids saying his wife’s name and instead refers to her as “she,” but I’m too fixated on trying to figure out if he just invited me over to his place to care. “I’m sure I would. It sounds beautiful.”
We’re silent for a moment, awkwardly breathing at each other, until Michael says, “Okay, I have to get this off my chest.”
Oh God. That sounds bad. “What is it?”
He laughs a small, self-conscious laugh. “I’m jealous of your rugby player.”
I know he’s looking for reassurance, but instead of being irritated, I find this admission charming. He’s basically saying Cam is a ma
