Read The Magnolia Affair for Free Online

dinner and just lay it out there.
    I didn’t know what words could make it right, but I had to find them.
    My phone buzzed on the counter. It was a text from a number not programmed in my contacts.
    I’m sorry. Can we please talk?
    I stared in disbelief at the message on the screen. The notepad. I had given Paxton my number yesterday before book club. My hands shook.
    No. I can’t. I have to go to work.
    I wasn’t sure why I had responded. Instinct told me to ignore him, cut all communication from this point. If he came to the neighborhood Christmas party, I would walk into the next room. If he came to the next book club, I would quit. If he needed someone to get his mail while he was out of town, I’d ask Tina instead.
    My phone buzzed again.
    Just 5 minutes. You can stop by on your way out. Promise it will be quick.
    I read it twice.
    I opened the door for Pepper. He had found an old dirty tennis ball under the deck and dropped it by my feet. “Gross, dog. Why can’t you bring in nice things like flowers?” I lobbed it over the railing.
    Ok.
    I sent the text before the next roll of nausea hit me. I was acting like a thrill junkie, needing my next fix on a toxic hit.
    I hurried to my closet and threw on a tank top with a pair of shorts. No point in dressing up for cleaning out the classroom. I gathered my hair in a ponytail and turned off the light. I poured my coffee into a to-go mug and collected my messenger bag.
    It was already eighty-five degrees outside at 8 a.m. We were in for a scorcher of a summer. I charged across the driveway and through the shortcut to Paxton’s yard. I scowled at the magnolia tree. It didn’t look as torrid in the morning.
    I pounded on the front door.
    Within seconds, Paxton was standing in front of me.
    “Good morning. Come on in.” He moved to the side.
    “No, we can talk here.” I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if Mrs. Ellerby was watching us through her kitchen window.
    His face looked drawn. I guessed he didn’t sleep well last night either.
    “I think it would be better to talk inside. Five minutes. I swear.”
    A pair of joggers waved from the sidewalk. I could hear bits of their conversation as they passed the house.
    “Ok, but five minutes. I have to get to school.”
    “Five minutes.” He closed the door behind me as soon as I entered the foyer.
    I backed up, wanting him to know I wasn’t going to follow him into the house. This was far enough.
    He exhaled. “Look. I wanted to apologize for last night.”
    “Don’t say anything.” I shook my head. It was better if we pretended it didn’t happen.
    “I need to say something. It was a shitty thing to do. I never should have kissed you, no matter how much wine we had.” His eyes were heavy with remorse.
    “I get it. Me too.” I turned for the doorknob. Two minutes alone with Paxton were too many. It was already happening again. The air felt different. My heart thudded against my chest. I had to get out of here.
    “It’s just—I—” He sat on the bottom step of the staircase, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t met anyone since Sarah died that I’ve connected with, and I’m kicking myself that I thought we had some kind of connection. It was wrong. I know you’re married.” He hadn’t looked up from the floor yet to face me.
    “I am. Very married.”
    “It’s not like I do that all the time. I just want you to know that.”
    “You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone if that’s what you’re implying. I’m not interested in hurting your campaign.”
    “God, no. That’s not what I’m saying at all.” His eyes flared. “I’m trying to apologize. I can’t explain how or why I have feelings for a woman I just met. For you. I’ve screwed this up.”
    “It wasn’t just you.” I had clung to him too. Sought his body in the dark.
    “I hope we can be friends.”
    “Friends?” The word sounded silly on my lips.
    “Yes, friends. Neighbors.”
    “I don’t think