Their exchange on Saturday morning both calmed Chris's nerves and exacerbated his stress further, in a weird, paradoxical fashion. He left feeling dirty, but not in the way he expected to.
Truth be told, he's still not sure what he's looking for. Baring his soul felt far too intimate, but realistically, likely less intimate than baring his genitals. He never had an epiphany after either instance, so he's still flying in the dark.
He's thought about the concept of revenge more, wondering if it was only applicable to Avery's situation or his as well. He knows that deep down, below the murky surface of his conscious mind, lies his subconscious reasoning for all his actions up until now. But he doesn't want to dive into it. He just wants to choose for himself without all the messiness of unpacking his hurt.
He can't make a choice about Hazel; that's too much to ask of himself. But he can make a choice with Avery. He can make continuous choices with Avery until he's ready to deal with Hazel.
And it's not like Avery won't get anything out of it. She very clearly needs the stimulation; her husband is courteous but not particularly warm. Chris can't imagine he's perfect in bed, though he doesn't want to imagine that for multiple reasons.
Chris shoots her a text, tentatively agreeing to their game for now, at least until he can get back on his feet. He's not sure why with Avery of all people, and why now of all times, and not months sooner. But once again, it's something he doesn't want to unpack. He just wants to remain in the present moment, and Avery is willing to make those allowances for him, if not to a weird extent.
Perhaps she gets off on the sense of danger, but Chris is appalled when he returns home from work one night to find that out firsthand.
"Great news!" Hazel bounds up to him, reaching up to plant a kiss on his cheek. He leans down to allow it, appreciating the gesture even as his chest tightens automatically.
"What is?" He asks, setting his laptop bag down in the entryway of their home as he makes to remove his shoes.
"We've been invited over for dinner tomorrow night! Avery just called to let me know."
Chris feels his blood run cold as his hands still. He's still bent over, untying his shoelaces, his mind racing to assess the situation.
Does Hazel know? Is this a test? Why in the hell would Avery do this, knowing Chris's intentions with her?
"Honey? Isn't that nice?" Hazel calls back to Chris, already having wandered farther into the house without a second thought.
Well, that answers his first question.
"Yes, of course." He says back, grateful that she can't see his face now. He's sure that she'd be able to read him like a book, and his affair would be over before it even officially started.
--
Dinner is about as awkward as one would expect, which is to say, not at all, at least not for the women.
They carry on like nothing in the world is wrong. To her credit, Avery has a perfect poker face. It's almost a little scary how she can vividly prattle on despite the circumstances. And Hazel is as outgoing as ever, if not a bit overeager, considering they were invited to visit, and not the other way around. It's been a while since their neighbors have felt so... neighborly. However, it's all just smoke and mirrors.
Sam nods along with his wife, smiling at all the correct times, but never engaging. Chris thought it was odd before at the party, but taking a peek under the hood revealed more than he expected, and now he's seeing discrepancies in everything.
They sit across from each other, a fact for which Chris is grateful until the exact moment he isn't. As if they weren't already pushing their luck, Avery decides to be cheeky and extend her leg, brushing against his calf, and then his thigh with her foot.
She continues talking with Hazel about anything and everything, never once looking at Chris. It's almost a good enough act to fool him, if she weren't getting so dangerously close to his crotch.
He clears his throat, face threatening to go hot when he feels three sets of eyes on him.
"Are you alright?" Hazel asks, genuine concern coloring her tone.
Avery nods in agreement, far too enthusiastically for his liking.
"Yes, it's just a bit spicy for my palate. Still delicious though!" He tacks on at the end just in case. He knows that Avery will get the message, but he doesn't want to seem rude to the two who aren't clued in on their little cat and mouse game.
"Not a spice fan, eh?" Sam asks.
"I am," Chris hastily corrects, "but it doesn't like me."
"Tell me about it." Sam laughs, sounding a little bitter. "It's always giving me heartburn, but I can't seem to stay away from it."
"I grew up down south, so it comes with the territory," Avery says. It takes Chris by surprise, as she doesn't have a dialect, but he's not all that knowledgeable about such things in the first place.
"Do you cook Cajun food often?" Hazel asks, inserting herself into the conversation easily. Seemingly ever the extrovert, she can't help herself.
Hazel continues the conversation, unaware that her husband has broken out in a genuine sweat when Avery begins to toy with his crotch with her shoe.
It's a scene right out of a cheesy rom-com, and not something he can allow her to get away with.
He uses one hand to continue eating, but lets the other rest on his lap. After a moment of making sure the coast is clear, he grabs her foot and then ghosts his fingers up along her leg. He can't reach far, but it doesn't matter. She reacts instantaneously.
She narrows her eyes, minutely glaring at him over a strategic sip of water.
Chris rejoins the conversation easily, seeing as it's still on food and spice. "I like hot sauce, I just feel like there's a time and place." He says, grinning when Hazel rolls her eyes.
"You big baby, you just can't handle it at all."
"I have to agree with your wife." Avery chimes in, nodding playfully in their direction. "Spice is good with everything."
"Not dessert." Chris shoots back; the perfect gotcha.
"Speaking of," Avery begins, standing up quickly in one fell swoop, and taking her obnoxious leg with her. "I should bring it out."
And so they eat dessert without much incident, save for Avery literally licking her fingers clean of whipped cream, which was partly due to Hazel egging her on. Together they're monstrous, a dynamic duo of bubbly extroverts.
Under different circumstances, they all could have gotten along, maybe even had a threesome. It seems comically outlandish but less ridiculous than whatever it is they're doing right now.
Later that night, once Hazel is fast asleep, Chris texts Avery, demanding an answer.
