other parties, there’s no structure to this one. The grill is on, the men are cooking, kids are playing in the yard, and the women are in little social clusters. I’ve stuck myself in a small group with Claire, Bonnie, and Diane, and I’m having a great time. Every so often, Matthew wanders off the deck for no other reason than to kiss me and there have been several moments that I’ve expected him to drag me away from the party and up to our bedroom. Someone always distracts him before it gets to that point and I can see the frustration building on his face and the glares directed at Claire, who seems determined to keep us at the party.
Later in the evening, yet more people are arriving, none of whom I know, but I do recognize one of the women. She’s the one I saw coming out of Matthew’s office the day of our doctor’s appointment. Unlike then, when she was dressed in more business appropriate attire, today she’s in tight blue jeans and a sweater that, if she were to bend over at the waist, would probably display to everyone much more of her chest area than necessary. I don’t miss all the men at the party giving her second or third glances, but she seems oblivious to the attention as she makes a beeline towards Matthew. I watch as he smiles at her and lets her hug and kiss him. My eyebrows rise at the sight; that’s more than business associate behavior, especially when she seems to attach herself to him at the shoulder, touching his arm repeatedly and far too long for my liking even as they turn their attention to other conversations.
Feeling jealousy build up, I’m about to approach my fiancé and let my displeasure be known when I hear Claire curse. I glance at her over my shoulder, finding her gaze locked on Matthew and the woman. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she says quietly. “Why the fuck did he invite her?”
Surprised as I am that Claire seems to know her, I use what little explanation I have for the situation. “She’s a business associate or something,” I say, trying to keep my tone even to hide my unease.
Claire’s eyes widen in an almost amused sort of way. “Is that what he told you?” she whispers, closing a bit of the distance to keep our conversation private. I nod silently, knowing that she’s about to correct my belief. She shakes her head as though she feels a little sorry for me. “Sam, that’s Natalie.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. The name is familiar and it only takes a moment for me to realize why: she’s the woman Matthew dated for around six months after he and I split up. None of Matthew’s family seems to know why they broke up; according to Claire, she thought they’d be together for quite a while. And while I knew he dated somewhat while we were apart, which was his right, he and I haven’t even been close to broaching the subject of any of his possible exes. I had enough information from Claire and Danny that anything else would probably make me crazy. I’m not sure whether I’m more pissed off that she’s here now, touching my fiancé the way she is, or that he lied about her identity. Granted I don’t think I’d be okay with inviting her here even if I had known who she is, but the fact that he didn’t think to mention it and didn’t think it wrong to invite her has me wondering what their relationship really is right now.
“Natalie?” I ask Claire, turning back to the deck where I can hear the woman’s laugh at something Matthew said and see her reaching out to press a hand to his chest. “As in his ex, Natalie?”
“That’s the one,” Claire confirms. “What does he think he’s doing, inviting her to the party?”
I’m wondering the same thing as I work out my next move. I could go up there, cause a scene and embarrass everyone involved. I could go up there and subtly remind Natalie that this party is for Matthew and me. I could keep to myself until the party is over, the house is cleared, and then have
Later in the evening, yet more people are arriving, none of whom I know, but I do recognize one of the women. She’s the one I saw coming out of Matthew’s office the day of our doctor’s appointment. Unlike then, when she was dressed in more business appropriate attire, today she’s in tight blue jeans and a sweater that, if she were to bend over at the waist, would probably display to everyone much more of her chest area than necessary. I don’t miss all the men at the party giving her second or third glances, but she seems oblivious to the attention as she makes a beeline towards Matthew. I watch as he smiles at her and lets her hug and kiss him. My eyebrows rise at the sight; that’s more than business associate behavior, especially when she seems to attach herself to him at the shoulder, touching his arm repeatedly and far too long for my liking even as they turn their attention to other conversations.
Feeling jealousy build up, I’m about to approach my fiancé and let my displeasure be known when I hear Claire curse. I glance at her over my shoulder, finding her gaze locked on Matthew and the woman. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she says quietly. “Why the fuck did he invite her?”
Surprised as I am that Claire seems to know her, I use what little explanation I have for the situation. “She’s a business associate or something,” I say, trying to keep my tone even to hide my unease.
Claire’s eyes widen in an almost amused sort of way. “Is that what he told you?” she whispers, closing a bit of the distance to keep our conversation private. I nod silently, knowing that she’s about to correct my belief. She shakes her head as though she feels a little sorry for me. “Sam, that’s Natalie.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. The name is familiar and it only takes a moment for me to realize why: she’s the woman Matthew dated for around six months after he and I split up. None of Matthew’s family seems to know why they broke up; according to Claire, she thought they’d be together for quite a while. And while I knew he dated somewhat while we were apart, which was his right, he and I haven’t even been close to broaching the subject of any of his possible exes. I had enough information from Claire and Danny that anything else would probably make me crazy. I’m not sure whether I’m more pissed off that she’s here now, touching my fiancé the way she is, or that he lied about her identity. Granted I don’t think I’d be okay with inviting her here even if I had known who she is, but the fact that he didn’t think to mention it and didn’t think it wrong to invite her has me wondering what their relationship really is right now.
“Natalie?” I ask Claire, turning back to the deck where I can hear the woman’s laugh at something Matthew said and see her reaching out to press a hand to his chest. “As in his ex, Natalie?”
“That’s the one,” Claire confirms. “What does he think he’s doing, inviting her to the party?”
I’m wondering the same thing as I work out my next move. I could go up there, cause a scene and embarrass everyone involved. I could go up there and subtly remind Natalie that this party is for Matthew and me. I could keep to myself until the party is over, the house is cleared, and then have
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