I grit my teeth. “It wasn’t like that.” Except, fuck, it was. I’m the world’s biggest asshole.

“You’re in deep shit, Noah. Not even your magical nine-inch strawberry-flavored dick is going to save you this time.”

“Yeah,” I mumble. “Got it.”

“Good luck.”

I end the call and double-check the directions. Camryn was no help, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll be there soon enough, and I will get my woman back.

I hit the gas pedal and zip off down the road, that much closer to whatever the future holds.

• • •

When I pull into the circular driveway in front of a freaking mansion built into the side of a mountain, I do a double-take to make sure I have the right address. Sure as shit, whoever this David is, he lives in a fucking ski resort, by the looks of it. And based on the lack of cars in the drive, I’m wondering if he and Olivia have the place all to themselves . . . and how they’ve been keeping busy.

Climbing the front steps, I brace myself for what I might find inside. But before I can knock, the large glass door swings open and Olivia’s standing at the threshold with a pissed-off glare in her eyes.

“I can’t believe you,” she barks and then storms away.

I follow her inside, taking note of the cozy cabin-chic decor and the gourmet kitchen with a rustic barnwood table for ten. “Olivia, I—”

She stops in front of a massive stone fireplace that rises to the beamed vaulted ceiling. “Using my father’s health as a bargaining chip,” she scoffs. “Is nothing off-limits with you?” Her posture is stiff, but I can see her hands trembling.

“I’m sorry about that.”

She rolls her eyes. “I called him the second we hung up. He was at home resting, said he was totally fine.” Her gaze drops for a second. “Well, not fine. But nothing’s changed.”

I step closer to take her shaking hands in mine. “When shit hits the fan, you run. It’s what you do. It’s what you did when we were first presented with the contract. Then again at our wedding when Brad blackmailed you. And now, when I fucked up. Real couples don’t run from their problems. We have to work on this together, and that means talking it out.”

She yanks her hands away. “Great, I’m all ears. I can’t wait to hear how you’re going to talk your way out of this one.”

I hear footsteps behind us, and watch Olivia’s expression turn neutral as her eyes track who I assume must be David. Fighting off a smirk, I turn around.

David looks to be our age, with shaggy brown hair and a pleasant grin on his face. “Hey. Sorry to interrupt.” He turns up his palms. “I’m David. Noah, I assume?”

“The one and only. Did you enjoy my wife?”

His grin vanishes as his eyes narrow. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but Olivia is an old friend from college. When she called needing a place to crash away from the city for a few days, I opened my door to her.”

Olivia’s hand on my shoulder stops me. “Don’t be a dick, Noah. I don’t know if I’m even going to be your wife after this.”

My gut twists and I swallow down a lump in my throat. “Fine. But it’s time to go.” I have zero interest in hanging around with her pal in his mansion.

She crosses the room, without the argument I expected, and gives David a hug and a kiss on the cheek. They speak in hushed tones, and after he gives her a final hug, she heads for the front door, ignoring me completely.

I follow behind her, giving David a curt nod.

I’m afraid it’s going to be a long, silent drive back to the city.

And for the first fifteen minutes, it is. We speed down the highway, the only sound the quiet hum of the air-conditioning. Miles tick past and Olivia sits motionless beside me, staring straight ahead at the taillights of the car in front of us, making a point of neither looking at me nor avoiding me. The subtle scent of her vanilla honeysuckle perfume teases me from the passenger seat.

I’m still pissed off, still unsure how to proceed. There’s no manual for how to be a good husband, and I’ve fucked up plenty. But my heart is in the right place. Still, it hurts more than I thought possible that she ran off to some other guy for comfort.

“Did you fuck him?” I finally blurt, cutting through the silence.

She tenses. “What?” Then she turns toward the passenger window, not letting me see her face. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“Did. You. Fuck. Him,” I repeat, my hands tightening on the wheel.

“You have no right to that information.” Under her breath, she adds, “Just as you had no right to my uterus.”

“Fucking hell I do.”

Her head suddenly whips around. “What if I did? Would that piss you off? What if I said that he licked my pussy and fucked me until I screamed his name?”

My foot jams the brake. I haul the car over to the side of the two-lane highway. I slam my fists against the steering wheel and inhale angry breaths, my nostrils flaring.

“Goddammit, Olivia.”

“Let me get this straight. You’re mad at me?” She scoffs aloud, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have some fucking nerve, you know that?”

“You ran to another man for comfort, Snowflake. How am I supposed to feel? I’m your husband.”

A bitter laugh that sounds more like a yelp bursts from her lips. “Some husband. Do I need to remind you of all the various ways you’ve fucked up within the past forty-eight hours?”