The Arrangement

Chapter 32

The word surprise had long since been shouted, but its echo lingered in John's chest. The room moved around him in waves of laughter, clinking glasses, and Motown classics filling the air. On the surface, everything buzzed — friends crowding forward to hug him, someone already starting a toast. But the energy was off-balance, too loud, too bright, like a spotlight he hadn't asked for. Time seemed to slow to a crawl suddenly.

And then his eyes went back to Marlena.

It was only a second, but a second too long — long enough for memory, desire, and everything unsaid to blaze through the space between them. No words, no gestures, only the truth in their eyes.

Then David's arm slid around her waist. Not harsh, not desperate — but territorial. Marlena felt it tether her to her role, reminding her of where she belonged.

John felt a kick to the gut, but couldn't look away.

Hilary's heart misfired before she clung tighter to John's arm. She smiled widely for the crowd, but the sight of Marlena pulled bile to the back of her throat. She hated her. She always had. And yet — this was her chance to show John she wasn't that same jealous woman anymore. Cordiality would be her weapon now. If she smiled, if she played it graciously, if she proved she could stand in Marlena's presence without losing her shit, then John would see she had changed.

Marlena tried to stay calm, but inside, a hint of jealousy flared. She was prepared to see John with Hilary at his side, yet the reality cut sharper than she imagined. His presence, the breadth of his shoulders, the way his eyes seemed to hold hers — her body reacted instantly, traitorously.

John felt Hilary lean closer, her voice an unwanted whisper against his ear. "Marlena and her husband are here," she said. "We should say hello."

It sounded light. But it wasn't. It was a challenge.

David shifted his weight, his hand tight on Marlena's waist. He studied John with the scrutiny of a man sizing up an opponent. He told himself he wasn't threatened. Not really. He told himself that Marlena's love for him and their marriage was solid. But echoes from the past had a way of shaking even the strongest ground. The jewelry safe combination — John's birthday — still bothered him. He wanted to believe it was only an oversight, a relic of her past. Maybe he was being ridiculous. Maybe he was a fool. But better a fool with certainty than a man left wondering.

Hilary tugged John's arm, guiding him forward like she was steering him into the fray. His pulse pounded as if he were back on the field, seconds before the play, knowing one wrong move could cost everything. He hated how right it felt to be near Marlena, even now, even with his wife beside him.

David stepped first, hand extended. "Happy birthday, John."

Their palms met in a practiced handshake — polite, but edged.

Then Marlena leaned in. "Happy birthday, John." Her voice was low, her hug quick. Harmless to the room, but to her it was unbearable — because all she could think was how good he smelled, how the press of him still lit her nerves on fire. She pulled away before her heart surrendered, but her breath caught anyway.

John's chest tightened. He wanted to hold her a fraction longer, but Hilary's tug broke the contact. He cleared his throat quickly, making a formal introduction, "David, Marlena — this is Hilary."

David shook Hilary's hand with cordial ease. Marlena, regal as ever, gave a nod. "It's lovely to see you again."

Hilary's nod mirrored hers, mechanical and rehearsed. "You too." She pressed tighter into John's arm, her smile stretched but her eyes cold, glinting with contempt she couldn't quite mask.