The Year We Turned Forty Read Online Free

sex with me. So I’m wondering if it’s because you’re getting it somewhere else—if that’s why you hired a model to get your coffee and make copies?”
    â€œDo you really think I’m cheating on you? Because I’m not!”
    â€œWell, you’re hardly ever here. And when you are, you act like I’m invisible!” Jessie choked on the last part.
    Grant reached for her. “I’d never do that to you or the girls. Do you really feel invisible?”
    â€œYes.” Jessie wiped a tear away. “I do.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Jess. I feel so much pressure at work. And when I am home, it feels like survival, you know? Like in between sports and homework and baths and dinner, there isn’t much room left for us.”
    Jessie nodded.
    â€œI’ll try harder. Okay?”
    â€œOkay.” Jessie brought her lips to his and hoped they’d stumbled back onto the right path.
    But another three months went by without Grant reaching for her and she felt her insecurity turn to anger all over again. When he didn’t even kiss her when he walked in, she would pick a fight about a crack on the countertop or the gas bill, all while shattering inside. He must find her lumpy and unsexy and boring. Otherwise, he would want to have sex with her. The constant rejection was like her shadow, following her everywhere, eventually leading her to look for that validation outside her marriage. And ultimately to Lucas. But never back to Grant.
    Her life changed on the last Thursday of August 2004, Jessie’s night to meet with her book club. They’d all had way too much wine as usual, and after they’d managed a short and boring conversation about the novel most of them hadn’t read, a few of the women had walked to a bar close by for another round. That’s when she’d seen him: Lucas’ future father. But at the time, he was just Peter, a dad whose son was in the same fifth grade class as Madison and Morgan. She’d first met him when they’d both volunteered at a Halloween party at the school, Jessie reluctantly dressed as Cinderella after her daughters had given her a guilt trip about attending in costume. She’d had a laugh with Peter, who was dressed as Batman, and whose son had given him a similar spiel. A former semipro soccer player, Peter stood just a few inchesabove Jessie’s own five-foot, six-inch frame. But she couldn’t help but notice the way his broad chest was stretching the fabric of his costume and that his deep olive-green eyes sparkled through the small openings in his mask. She’d heard from the other moms that he stayed home with his son, but worked on the side coaching the local club soccer team and running a summer sports camp. As they crafted cobwebs out of cotton balls, he told Jessie that his wife, Cathy, was an investment banker who spent more time traveling to Tokyo, London, and New York than she did at home.
    After the class party, Jessie bumped into Peter regularly, laughing as they’d slammed their car doors shut and clenched their dry cleaning bags or stood in line together at Starbucks. They’d often chat in the school parking lot long after drop-off had ended, Jessie leaning against her van as she spun her hair around her finger, wanting to prolong the moment. There was something about the way Peter remembered small details from their conversations, how he lobbed compliments effortlessly her way. The effects of seeing him would buoy her for hours after, making her step bouncier, her mood lighter. He made Jessie feel like she was interesting and sexy, that she could take on the world.
    When she noticed Peter at the bar that night, shooting the eight ball into the corner pocket, and he’d looked up at her, she should have turned and gone home. They’d been teetering on a fine line between friendship and flirtation for months, Jessie forcing herself to push thoughts of Peter aside several