Free The Side Effects of You by Anna Black Page A

husband, and I wanted to be done with that imposter. I at least wanted to get back to the times when he pretended he loved me, or even just liked me.
    Now, as I headed into my bathroom to glam up, my phone rang. When I got to it, I had missed another call from that mysterious woman’s number. Too pressed for time, I put the phone down and went back to the mirror to finish getting ready to meet with Quentin. After twenty minutes of convincing myself to go, I got in my car and headed out to meet the ex-love of my life. Traffic was light, so I made it in record time. I parked went inside, and since the sports bar wasn’t crowded, I immediately spotted Quentin and headed over to his table.
    â€œYou look very nice,” he complimented when I got there.
    I took a seat. “So do you.”
    â€œI ordered you an amaretto sour.”
    I shook my head and chuckled. “I don’t drink those anymore. I stopped drinking those ages ago.”
    He signaled for our server. “I didn’t know, Andrea. I thought . . . I just . . .”
    â€œQuentin, it’s okay.”
    The server was there in a flash.
    â€œCan I cancel that amaretto sour and get . . .” Quentin looked at me.
    â€œChardonnay will be fine,” I replied.
    â€œYes, ma’am.” The server was off, and I was left sitting across from a grinning Quentin.
    â€œWhy are you smiling so hard?”
    â€œBecause of you. I mean, you look amazing.”
    â€œAmazingly huge,” I said and looked around the room to avoid eye contact with him.
    â€œYes, you’re not that thin chick I dated back in high school and college, but it looks good on you. Thick or thin, you’ve always been beautiful to me.”
    That was sweet, but I didn’t say anything. I looked down.
    â€œI’m serious, Andrea.”
    â€œListen, I agreed to come out and have a drink with you, Quentin. Now, if there is no motive behind seeing me again, we can’t do this. I can’t start hanging out with you. I’m married, and it’s not a good look.”
    â€œListen, Drea, I know you are married, but I can tell you are not happy.”
    Oh, now he was psychic. “What? What makes you think that?”
    â€œDrea, come on. When you throw this marriage bull at me, it’s like your shield, your way of convincing yourself not to be near me. I can tell by your body language that you’re not happy. Your eyes don’t dance when you say the word marriage . A woman who is truly happy with her marriage or her mate would smile and say it gracefully. It wouldn’t come across as defensive. It would flow, like you are happy.”
    Who the hell was he? Dr. Phil? Just because my face didn’t glow because I was married didn’t mean I wasn’t happy. Okay, it did, but I refused to tell that to him.
    â€œLook, I am happy. Just because I didn’t do a handstand or a cartwheel when I said it doesn’t mean I’m not happy.”
    â€œOkay, let me rephrase this. Does he make you happy? Happy is a state of mind, so you could be happy with Andrea. But does your husband make you happy?”
    I looked away. I hadn’t been happy with him for a very long time. Yes, I was a happy person because of my salon, my kids, my beautiful home, and my family and friends, but Jeremiah hadn’t done a thing in over two years to make me happy.
    In a whisper, I lied. “Yes.”
    â€œOkay.”
    That was it, although he said okay like he didn’t believe me. I didn’t care.
    â€œTell me about you and your marriage, Quentin. Are you happy?” I wanted to get caught up with him since he was so caught up on me.
    â€œI’m divorced. Been divorced for four and a half months, and no, she wasn’t making me happy. We both became so consumed with work and image that we stayed in a loveless marriage for over three years. One day I came home to my huge five-bedroom house and decided I didn’t want that