“Well, that was a shitshow.” Andrew said as he stared up at the ceiling, listening to Mr. Dawson throwing things around in the guest room.

“Just ignore him.” Sally mumbled into his chest, stroking her hands up and down his ribs. “He’ll tire himself out.” She pressed a kiss to his bare chest before she mumbled a good night that Andrew quietly returned, one of his arms wrapped around her as he listened to the thudding and breaking sounds that came from down the hall.

Dinner had been a complete and utter freaking disaster.

The fighting stopped once Andrew awkwardly came into the living and announced the food was ready, so Andrew had thought it was going to be okay.

Sally had gone in and dished herself up her salad and in stormed her husband, who backed Andrew into the corner of the kitchen with his stare before he angrily made his own dish. Andrew had taken that as a good sign - if the other man ate, maybe he’d feel better. Andrew knew that his mood always improved once he had himself a nice meal, so maybe it would be the same for Mr. Dawson.

And then they sat down at the table in the kitchen and just...exploded. The married couple just screamed at each other for almost an hour straight while Andrew sat there, staring at the table and very quietly eating his dinner with his head down, ignoring the argument that ended in Mr. Dawson smashing his plate against the table before he stormed upstairs to the master suite.

When it became obvious that Mr. Dawson intended on staying there, Sally had gone up after him and slammed around, getting her things together while Andrew cleaned up the broken glass in the kitchen and then cleaned up the mess from dinner. He listened to them screaming at each other for almost another hour before Mr. Dawson finally left the master suite and went into the guest bedroom, where he had been ever since.

Andrew didn’t sleep that night, to say the least. Usually, he and Sally would mess around before they went to bed, but tonight Sally was grumpy and Andrew was too terrified to be able to think of anything beside the fact that there was a thin wall between them and a very angry man with at least one full duffle bag of assault weapons.

The next morning, the routine started as usual.

He and Sally showered together and then Sally had Andrew on his knees, eating her out as usual while she washed his hair. Afterward he got dressed in his work uniform while she dressed in a tight pencil skirt and silk blouse that accentuated every curve and never failed to capture Andrew’s complete attention. They went downstairs together and started to make breakfast.

Well.

They went down stairs together, yes, but while Sally waltzed over to the kitchen to start making scrambled eggs, Andrew stood at the bottom steps of the stairs, terrified.

Mr. Dawson sat in the same chair as last night, his expression even darker than the night before and still dressed in the beige military uniform. He was glaring right at Andrew, his expression stormy and hostile.

Andrew stayed there on the stairs, frozen in place, until Sally called him in. He walked stiffly to her and helped her with breakfast, cutting up vegetables to put into the eggs she was skillfully moving around in the pan.

Sally was an amazing cook - he’d never had anything she made that wasn’t amazing. He figured he’d have to be at her level at least to impress her and prove that he was making an effort, since he had demonstrated time and time again that the only thing he was capable of making was garlic chicken, a few simple pasta dishes, a salad, and a wicked margarita. But that was it. That was it for Andrew’s cooking abilities.

Which is why Andrew was looking for cooking classes. He figured he’d take a couple cooking classes - or a lot of cooking classes - dazzle her with his new skills, and she’d see how good of a partner he was. He figured being a capable man in the kitchen was the first step toward proving to Sally that he was someone she could depend on, someone she could have a family with.

Mr. Dawson...complicated that.

To be frank, Andrew had never figured her first husband into his eventual plans to make Sally the first and only Mrs. Andrew Harper. His gut thought that Sally would divorce her husband once she and Andrew got engaged, the divorce would go quickly, and then they’d get married. That was the extent of Mr. Dawson’s involvement before he became a brief footnote in a lifetime’s worth of blissful, drama free romance…

But here Mr. Dawson was several yards behind him, watching them cook with a dark expression, looking like he was going to explode at any second and glaring a hole into the back of Andrew’s head.

Andrew had no idea where that left them. Sally was completely ignoring her husband and doting on Andrew, giggling as she watched his agonizingly slow and careful chops before she waved him out of the way with a smile to finish for him, speeding things along as he watched sheepishly over her shoulder.

When she was done she swept the vegetables off the board and into their eggs before Andrew eagerly took the cutting board and went to clean it. He then got out three plates and set them down on the counter next to the stove before he went and got three cups to fill them with ice and orange juice, setting them on the table.

Sally carried over two plates then and gave him a peck on the cheek before she sat down and started eating.

Andrew realized she had only dished up two plates, leaving the empty pan in the sink. He grew nervous. “Oh, um, I-I feel like I should split mine with Mr. Dawson...” Andrew said nervously, glancing over to where Mr. Dawson was in the shadows of the living room, only his legs visible from the light cast out by the kitchen.

“He’s an adult.” Sally said in a cheerful, but clipped tone. “He’s capable of making his own breakfast.” She said as she quickly pushed her food around her plate before taking a forkful into her mouth to chew with a little smile on her face. She pointed her fork to Andrew’s plate. “Eat! Eggs are no good cold!” She said with a twinkling gaze that seemed sharper than usual.

Andrew gave her an unsure smile, his eyes darting over to where Mr. Dawson sat, before he slowly sat down at the table and took a bite of his eggs, taking a long, slow drink of his juice as Sally sped through her breakfast as usual, her phone poised in one hand as she scrolled over the screen with her thumb and an semi intrigued look, swiping her thumb left a few times, right once with a smirk, and then more lefts with frowns.

He took another small bite before he took another long drink. When he finished, Sally stood, eyes on her phone, and said she had to make a quick call. Since her husband was here, Andrew figured she was calling her mother. After she was up the stairs, he stood from his seat and went over to the third plate to dump the rest of his eggs on it. He was careful to avoid looking toward Mr. Dawson as he stiffly turned around and went to get the third glass from the table to set it next to the plate of eggs before he threw back the rest of his own drink, finishing Sally’s untouched glass before he washed them and the pan.

Sally came down just as he was putting away the pan and Andrew hurried to go up and grab his school bag before he came down and followed Sally out of the house and to her car.

She drove him to work as usual, and before she let him out at the curb of the homestyle cafe where he was a waiter, she turned to him and said point blank to his worried look “I know you’re anxious about Corey, but don’t be. He’s not capable of hurting either of us, and he’s not going to shoot you.” She giggled, Andrew laughing nervously at that. “So just trust me. I’ll take care of him, and then...we can get back to our little arrangement.” She purred, her gaze dropping to Andrew’s lips before she slowly leaned forward to give him a slow, gentle kiss, her lip gloss leaving a cotton candy taste on his mouth.

At work, he was in a daze. He thought about what Sally might do about Mr. Dawson - just what exactly they would arrange.

They’d get a divorce as soon as they possibly could. That much was obvious. Now that Mr. Dawson wasn’t working anymore and Sally was in an exclusive relationship with Andrew, they’d have to get divorced. They only stayed married this long because it suited their lifestyle. But obviously they weren’t going to get back together. As Sally had said, she had a very high sex drive, and her husband could never keep it up with her, plus -

Plus Andrew was her partner. They’d been together for almost eight months now and things had been amazing. They were completely steady. They were both happy and deeply in love with each other - they had sex all the time! Why would she want to trade that for a marriage that was sexless, loveless, and a complete sham?

Obviously, she wouldn’t.

But what about Mr. Dawson?

He had seemed pretty angry about coming home to find Andrew there, but honestly, he hadn’t seemed all that happy to see Sally either, so Andrew figured there was a good chance that Mr. Dawson would be down for a speedy divorce. He was probably just angry that Sally was over here, happy as a clam with a new man, while all this time Mr. Dawson had been having meaningless affairs. If he HAD had anyone, Mr. Dawson would have for sure gone and stayed with them instead of coming straight to the house he shared with Sally.

Right?

Right.

Once Sally and Mr. Dawson got their divorce and Mr. Dawson found someone else, then everything would get back on track between him and Sally. They were in a really good place and were still on an upward trajectory. Eight months in, completely still in the honeymoon phase - he figured by the time they’d been together for a year, he’d have proven that he was a more than capable partner, marriage would be on the table, kids shortly after that - bang, bang, boom, everything would fall into place!

Andrew just had to be patient.