Chapter 8: Part Two
Linda walked across the street slowly, arms folded tight across her chest. Maya’s house loomed warm, inviting, and performative. She’d rehearsed a hundred excuses in her head.
But when she reached the steps, voices drifted through the cracked windows.
She paused.
From inside, Maya laughed sharply, followed by a muffled voice. Then:
“She’s sweet,” someone said it sounded like one of the women from the dinner.
“Sweet?” Maya chuckled. “She’s sad. Look at her. Like she’s clinging to relevance with apple pie and knock-off perfume.”
Laughter.
Another voice: “I thought you said she used to be a chef?”
“She was something. Now she’s just... domestic driftwood. But I like having her around. Makes me feel alive.”
Linda backed away from the door, breath catching. She didn’t know what she’d expected. Not that.
As she turned to leave, the door opened.
“Linda?” Maya appeared, surprised. “Were you knocking?”
Linda blinked quickly, composing herself. “No, I just got here.”
Maya tilted her head. “You okay?”
“I’m fine. Just... rough day.”
Maya’s expression softened with performative warmth. “Come with me. Grocery run. Then maybe a massage after. I need someone sane to talk to.”
Linda nodded. She didn’t trust her voice.
They drove through the city in Maya’s expensive SUV a luxury model with leather seats and soft jazz humming through the speakers. At the store, Maya never looked at the prices. At the spa, her membership was VIP. At lunch, she ordered things Linda couldn’t pronounce.
At first, Linda was angry. Then I was jealous. Then something else.
Curious.
She watched Maya laugh at the waiter’s joke. I Watched her tip extravagantly. I watched her flirt with the spa attendant without blinking.
Who was she?
And how did she afford all this?
“What exactly do you do again?” Linda asked casually.
“Oh, you know,” Maya said, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Freelance. Consulting. The usual.”
But she never elaborated.
The office was nearly empty. Veronika and Gary remained, hunched over the desk, the schematics spread across three monitors now. Code glowing in soft hues of cyan and amber.
Her hand brushed his as she adjusted the light.
He didn’t pull away.
“I could help you,” she said. “Make this real.”
He looked at her. “Why?”
“Because I believe in it. And because... I think you need someone who sees it the way you do.”
There was a pause. Then his lips met hers. No hesitation. No calculation.
Moments later, he had her bent over the desk — his hands on her hips, her moans muffled by his shoulder. The office filled with the sound of flesh and breath and a hundred suppressed needs finally given permission.
He moved like a man who hadn’t been touched in years.
She matched him like she’d been waiting just as long.
They finished tangled, gasping — nothing polite between them. Only release.
Linda drove to Jesse’s school, eyes foggy, thoughts distant.
He waited at the curb, backpack in one hand, kicking gravel with the other.
But someone else was waiting for her.
Calvin stood beside the car, hands in his pockets.
“Hi,” he said. “Gary around?”
“No. He’s still at work,” Linda replied, trying not to sound surprised.
“Maya’s sleeping. Long day. I figured I’d say hi.”
She hesitated, then gestured to the passenger seat. “You can wait if you want.”
He climbed in.
They drove in silence for a moment.
“You look tired,” Calvin said.
“I am.”
They didn’t speak again until they pulled into the driveway.
Linda glanced over. “He’s... probably working late.”
Calvin smiled softly. “Aren’t we all?”
The sky was bruised purple as Linda drove back from the school. Jesse had fallen asleep in the backseat, his head tilted toward the window. She didn’t turn on the radio. She didn’t need noise. Her mind was already loud enough.
At the last minute, instead of heading straight home, she veered left — toward the business park where Gary’s office was. Just to see. Just to feel close to him again. Maybe apologize. Maybe try.
She parked quietly. The building loomed still and silver under the dying light.
The front door was locked, but she knew the side entrance — Gary had shown her once, in passing.
Inside, the halls were mostly dark. One room glowed faintly at the end.
She walked silently, the sound of her heels muffled by the cheap office carpet.
When she reached the door, she saw them.
Gary. Veronika.
Her husband was behind her, shirt halfway open, hands gripping her waist.
Veronika bent over the desk, hair wild, lips parted in pleasure, moaning something soft and obscene. Papers scattered. A coffee cup knocked over. His project glowing behind them on the screen.
Linda froze.
Her heart didn’t break.
It shattered with surgical precision.
She turned before they saw her. Walked out the way she came, each step numb and mechanical. She got into the car, drove home in silence, Jesse still sleeping in the back.
Inside the house, she sat on the edge of the bed, hands still gripping the keys. Her mind was blank. Her body is cold.
What now?
What now?
The next morning, Gary met with Calvin at a neutral café downtown. Veronika had insisted it was a good idea — that Calvin had connections, ideas, influence.
Calvin was already seated, sipping espresso, perfectly composed.
“I spoke to Mark,” he said casually. “He liked your pitch. Said there might be... side projects worth pursuing. Corporate clients who don’t mind shortcuts, as long as the system delivers. NDA stuff.”
Gary hesitated. “You mean... illegal?”
“Gray,” Calvin replied. “Smart gray. One job could fund your build.”
Gary glanced down at his tablet. At the schematics. At the house he had obsessed over for years.
He didn’t respond.
Veronika appeared minutes later, slipping into the booth beside him. Her perfume subtle, her presence commanding.
“What did I miss?” she asked, smiling.
“Calvin made an offer,” Gary said slowly. “Something... off the record.”
She turned to him, eyes sparkling.
“Well,” she whispered, brushing his wrist with hers, “if you want to build your future, sometimes you have to leave the rules behind.”
Gary said nothing.
But in his mind, something clicked into place.