The Bad Boy Next Door

Jo walked around her house, numb. She picked up pictures, looking at the bits of her life captured on film. A high school dance with Mary and Tyler. Stacey's first day of college. Her wedding day. All these things had been her life once, the little pieces that fit together to make her whole. But somewhere along the line they'd stopped being enough. Even with everything she'd had, one piece had been missing. The final bit, that made her alive, made her whole body sing. She'd found it once before, when she was young, and now again with Frank.

Jo looked at her wedding picture, her mouth setting in a line of grim determination. If she needed that in her life, then she was just going to have to get it from Pete.

Jo went into the kitchen, taking Pete's hotel number off the fridge. She needed to call him, to hear his voice and have him remind her why this was the life she was choosing. She dialed the number, not caring that it was already after midnight.

"Hello?" Jo froze. The voice on the other end of the line was female. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Is Pete there?" Jo asked, hoping that she had the wrong number.

"Pete, yeah, he's…wait." The woman stopped, and Jo could hear her talking to someone else, though she couldn't make out what they were saying. "No, I don't know a Pete. You must have the wrong number."

"Let me talk to Pete," Jo snapped.

"I don't know who you're talking about. Look, it's almost one o'clock in the morning. Watch your fingers when you're calling someone this late." There was a click, and then a dial tone.

Jo set down the phone, her hands trembling. It could've been a wrong number like the woman had claimed, but the sickening feeling in her stomach told her otherwise. Still, if Pete was cheating, and had been this whole time, then she remembered how easily he'd lied to her when she'd found Leanne's number. Jo had to see things for herself, had to have tangible proof that he couldn't lie his way out of-and that she couldn't convince herself wasn't real.

She picked up the phone again, this time calling a number from the speed dial. "Yeah?" a tired voice on the phone muttered after several rings.

"Patrick, it's Jo. Where's Pete?"

"Jo? Pete, he's, um, on business in L.A."

"Where's he's staying?"

"Jo, it's one am. Go back to bed."

"Don't you dare tell me what to do, Patrick," Jo snapped. "Tell me where my husband is right now or I swear I will hurt you." Jo wrote down the information as Patrick quickly spit out Pete's location. "Thanks. And one more thing. Don't you fucking dare tell him I'm on my way. You got that?"

Jo heard Patrick swallow hard on the other line. She'd never liked the man, despite the fact that he was her husband's best friend, and if Pete had been cheating on her, then she was sure Patrick had known the whole time. "Yeah, I got it."

Jo hung up the phone, grabbed her purse, and left the house.