Page 137 of How To Not Need You

He runs his hand through his hair again in a nervous gesture. “I should have called or messaged you, but I just I didn’t think I guess.”

That’s it. That’s the grand fucking explanation. No secret affair. No rekindled romance. No ex-wife seduction plot worthy of one of Harper’s books. Megan’s hot water system shit itself, and she needed a shower.

So she called Jake. Jake, who was at the station and said yes.

Because apparently normal, well-adjusted divorced people can do things like let their ex use their shower without accidentally sleeping with them.

Who knew?

I stare out at the yard. A hot water system.

I spent three days in my apartment ignoring everyone, eating pizza directly from the box and mentally dismantling six months of my life over a fucking hot water system.

Fantastic.

“Megan messaged me afterward,” Jake says, drawing me from my increasingly self-deprecating thoughts. “Said a woman came to the house, knocked, then left.”

I turn so quickly my neck protests. “And you didn’t realise it was me?”

“No.”

I stare at him. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Jake, my charger was sitting on your kitchen bench.”

“I know.”

“You gave me a key the night before.”

“I know.”

“I told you I’d come over and feed your demonic cat.”

“I know.”

“Then how the fuck did you not know?”

He scrubs a hand over his face. “Because I didn’t think, Liv.”

Well. That takes some of the wind out of me. I was prepared for an excuse. Possibly several.

I was not prepared for I fucked up.

“I took the call from Megan, said she could use the shower and went straight back to work. When she messaged afterward, I was dealing with about six other things. She said someone knocked and left. I didn't put it together.”

“You were working.”

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t have.”

“You just said you were dealing with multiple things.”

“Liv.”

“I’m just saying.”

“So am I.” He looks at me. “I should’ve thought about you.”