I’m no closer to knowing the right words to speak, in the right order, at the right time. Words that won’t result in me winding up in a stew of bad-luck broth.

After I shower, I pull on jeans and a button-down. I don’t normally dress up in my line of work, and this is as fancy as I get. I figure, though, a man should dress with respect when he goes to the courthouse during his lunch break.

I picture a looming concrete structure with men and women in black robes doling out your fate, and I shudder. All things being equal, I’d rather avoid the courts. And if I can figure out what to say to Natalie, maybe we won’t have to go.

Hey, Nat. How’d you like to date me now?

Sweetheart, I know this might sound crazy, but any chance you’d be up for staying married?

Sooooo, I was wondering . . . what would you say to just giving this a whirl? Having dinner tonight, moving in with me, and being my woman?

Yeah, like I said, my ideas all suck.

Note to self: Try to find clarity in the next few hours.

That task would be a whole lot easier if I could trust my gut when it comes to women. All I know is I love Natalie, and I need to figure out how to keep her. Ending this marriage seems like the wrong way to go about it.

I call the one woman I’ve always relied on—my sister. She answers on the second ring, and speaks like an auctioneer—with extreme speed. “I’m up to my elbows in red velvet cupcake batter, but I always have time for you. Just, you know, make it quick.” I can hear the familiar sounds of her bakery in the background.

Pacing across the plush carpet, I spill my heart. But, you know, quickly. “Here’s the thing. I’m in love with Natalie, and I don’t know what to do about anything.”

Josie doesn’t miss a beat. “Have you told her?”

“No. What if she doesn’t feel the same way?”

“That’s a chance you have to take.”

“But what if—”

No need to finish—Josie knows what I’m thinking. “What if she’s going to screw you over? Stab you in the back? Mess with your business?”

I scowl and am about to deny that all those too scary and too real possibilities have entered my mind, when there’s a loud, wet plop on the phone line. I hear the muffled voice of my sister, then silence reigns.

I have the distinct feeling Josie’s phone is bathing in a cake tub right now.

Natalie: Remind me that this is the right decision.

Charlotte: Oh, sweetie. I know it’s not easy.

Natalie: But this is the right decision, right?

Charlotte: I can’t make that choice for you. Part of me thinks you’re crazy. But I support you, even if I don’t agree with you.

Natalie: I know. I appreciate that. But what if I mess things up worse?

Charlotte: You’re taking a chance. A big chance. You have to consider all the risks. Ask yourself if you have.

Natalie: I think I have. I have to do this, Charlotte. I have to.

I knock on Natalie’s door with something not quite like butterflies flapping in my chest. Not exactly hummingbirds flying around, either. It’s more like crazed black crows swarming me from the inside out.

I inhale, trying to center myself, but the breath flees my lungs when she answers.

Jesus Christ, why does she have to be so gorgeous?

She wears an orange sundress with slim straps, one of those little croppy-sweater things, and a pair of beige strappy sandals. It’s bright, cheery, and beautiful without being provocative.

It’s so her. Sunshine and all-American apple pie dreams.

She gestures to her summery outfit. “It’s my annulment dress. What do you think?”

I hate it.

I hate that she has one, that she calls it that, and most of all, that she’s so damn excited to sever ties. But she’s fucking stunning as she looks at me with a smile that slays me, and all I can say is the cold, hard truth. “I love it. You look gorgeous.”

She taps her finger against a button on my white dress shirt. “And you look handsome.” She hikes her bag up her shoulder and says in a playful tone, “What do you say we go to work, take a lunch break to split up, and maybe, if you play your cards right, we can have dinner tonight?”

That was one of my options, but now that she’s given it voice, it barely seems enough. We’re beyond that. We’re already more. I just need to convince her.

But I’m not so pig-headed that I’m turning down a date with Natalie, so I say yes.

Beaming, she taps her watch. “We need to be at Lila’s in thirty minutes, and I bet we’ll be early if we leave now. We’ve got time to stop for a cup of coffee on the way. Like a starter date, maybe,” she says, jutting up her shoulder and looking thoroughly adorable as she flirts with me.

And that’s it. I snap. I can’t just date her. I can’t flirt with her right now.

“I don’t want coffee,” I say roughly.

“What do you want then?”

“You.”

A naughty smile tugs at her lips. “For old times’ sake?”

“No.” My tone is serious. “For new times’ sake, Natalie.” My heart races like a cheetah. I swallow and push past the nerves and the wild crows. “I want you. I want to be with you. I’m crazy about you,” I say, starting with what’s in my heart, even though there’s so much more to say.

But before I can tell her more, she swallows, and tears well in her eyes. She presses her fingers to my lips.