Free Come Together by Jessica Hawkins

was softened by the cleft in his chin, the fullness of his bottom lip. He could’ve been a movie star, and he was telling me I was beautiful? I searched his chestnut-brown eyes, finding only honesty.
    “Now, tie me up, would you?” he asked, tilting his chin in the air to expose his undone bowtie.
    I turned, fashioned the tie into a bow and patted his chest.
    He grabbed my wrists and kissed one of my palms. “One of the best and worst nights of my life,” he murmured, resting his forehead against mine.
    “Tonight?” I asked, alarmed.
    “The night of the bowtie. You don’t know how badly I wanted you but was scared to death of driving you away.”
    I melted into him as I remembered how I’d done up his bowtie right before our first kiss; an electric, amazing and terrifying first kiss, after which I’d gone home to my husband.
    “I love knowing that my bowtie is the only one you’ll be tying from now on.”
    I loved knowing that too, and I showed him with a kiss to rival our very first one.
    ~
    David and I fought again in the car. He insisted on sneaking out with me, but I ordered him to walk the red carpet and receive the praise he deserved for his work. He was grumbling irritably when I’d slipped out of the car right before we approached the photographers.
    Since Gretchen hadn’t arrived and I didn’t know anybody at the party, I headed straight for the lobby bar to order our drinks. I promptly canceled David’s whiskey, deciding that he’d probably have mingling to do and that I might not see him for a while. I pulled out my new phone while I waited and checked my e-mail.

From: Bill Wilson
    Sent: Sat, November 10, 2012 05:48 PM CST
    To: Olivia Germaine
    Subject: Hey

    Tomorrow will be hard. I guess I feel like Sunday is our day. Was. This has been a lot to process. I still feel a little like I’m in a nightmare. Andrew caught me up on some details. I’m worried about you & don’t trust this guy AT ALL. He has no relationship history. I worry that he thinks this is some sort of game?

    I get that we have things to work on. I feel like I’ve been a good husband, but I’m willing to listen to whatever it is you think went wrong. You’ve always been hard to get through to though, so I hope you realize it takes two.

    You know how I feel about therapy, but I’ll do it for us. Forget this guy, Liv, he’s a player. Come home, let’s work this out. It’ll take time, but I know I can forgive everything one day.

    Bill

I thanked the bartender and took a long sip from my wine. After a beat, I finished it off and ordered another.
    “Thirsty much?” asked a familiar voice.
    I turned and smiled. “Mr. Brian Ayers.” My new friend always looked handsome – even during our first meeting on Lakefront Trail when he was mid-run. He was a long way from athletic clothes tonight. Now he wore a trim, deep purple velour tuxedo, a silver button-down shirt and a matching striped bowtie. I couldn’t help but smile at his quirky style. As if it wasn’t Brian enough, he’d topped his outfit off with stark white tennis shoes. He leaned in to kiss me on the cheek.
    “No date tonight?” I asked.
    “Nah.”
    I raised my eyebrows at him, and he shrugged. “Not feeling anyone lately,” he explained. Brian’s blue eyes and long blond hair were even brighter against his tan. I knew not just by his looks or the muscular arms hiding under his blazer that he’d be a catch for most girls.
    Brian and David were longtime friends, and I wondered if Brian knew about us yet. If he did, he didn’t give anything away. I was considering mentioning it when I noticed Gretchen and Greg walk in. They were heading to the bar before they even spotted us.
    “Hel-lo,” Gretchen called, practically running over to me. “Greg, get me a drink, honey?”
    “Nice to have someone to order around, eh?” Brian asked as Greg walked away.
    She glanced at Brian, and her face soured. “Oh. Didn’t see you there. Can you excuse