For Better or Worse

“This is a bad idea,” Anna muttered as she parked her blue Mustang outside the Dink and Drink. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles paled, shaking her head. She knew she should drive away. She knew she should forget him. The ache in her chest outweighed the still small voice in her head. “I need to see him.”

She snatched her gray pickleball bag from the passenger seat and pushed the door open. The cool, crisp fall air swept across her face, carrying the sharp scent of pine and the faint pop of paddles.

She strolled down the driveway, scanning the courts as laughter floated through the air. Warm light spilled through the pro shop windows. She stepped inside, signed up for a court, paid the fee, and grabbed a Demo paddle. As she emerged into the evening air, she saw him.

Brody stood beside the table where her bag had been placed. His loose shirt fluttered in the breeze as he ran a hand through his sandy hair, sweeping it from his forehead. But it was his grin—bright, boyish, unmistakably his—and the spark in his blue eyes that hit her the hardest. Her pulse quickened as she stepped into his strong yet gentle embrace.

Warmth.

Comfort.

Danger.

All wrapped in the shape of one man.

Two hours later, after several intense pickleball games that left them laughing and breathless, they walked to the Drop Shot—the bar side of the Dink and Drink. Brody returned, balancing his beer and her appletini. He set the glass down, then hesitated—his hand slipping into his pocket.

“I have something for you,” he said quietly.

Anna lifted her eyebrows. “Oh?”

He placed a small jewelry box in her hand. The hinge creaked softly as she opened it. A delicate gold chain with a tiny pickleball pendant sparkled in the bar’s light.

She gasped. “Brody… I love it!”

Without thinking, she stood and extended the necklace to him. “Will you help me?”

As she turned, her braid fell forward. Brody moved behind her, his fingers lightly grazing her skin. His touch was gentle, subtle—yet it sent a shiver down her spine. A smile crept onto her lips; she couldn’t help it.

The clasp clicked shut.

She turned back to him, “How does it look?”

Brody’s gaze softened as he adjusted the chain. “Perfect,” he said. “Just like you.”

Anna’s cheeks warmed. “I’ll cherish it.” Their eyes met for a long, still moment before she squeezed his hand and slipped back into her seat.

Brody lifted his glass, taking a slow sip. “I filed for divorce.”

Anna’s eyes widened. “You did?”

“Brody, I’m so sorry.” Her fingertip traced a knot in the wood.

“Don’t be.” He shook his head. “It was over a long time ago.”

Anna placed her hand on his. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

He nodded as his gaze drifted.

She swallowed hard. “There’s something I want to tell you.”

He leaned in, brows creased. “What is it?”

Her throat tightened. “I think Steve is having an affair.” She dabbed beneath her eyes. “I found something in his pocket,” she whispered, avoiding his gaze. “A folded note… with the name Lily and a heart scrawled beside the number.”

Brody’s expression softened as he met her trembling eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, gently taking her hand. “Is there anything I can do?”

“You’re doing it.” A faint smile tugged at her lips as she brushed her thumb over the warm ridge of his knuckle.

Closing time arrived, and they hesitantly stood from the round wooden table. At her car, Brody leaned in, their eyes locking. Anna pressed her palm flat against his chest, holding him at bay.

“I can’t…” she whispered.

His fingertips brushed her cheek. “I understand.” He closed the door, offered a small wave, and disappeared down the path.

At the end of the parking lot, her stomach tightened. Her chest constricted; her knuckles whitened on the wheel. By the time she reached her apartment, her hands trembled with the urge to tear into an entire bag of chocolate chip cookies.

“Steve’s having an affair,” she muttered. “So why can’t I?” She slid her key into the front door.

“For better or worse.”

The vow echoed relentlessly in her mind.

“Someone should tell Steve.”

A humorless half-smile touched her lips as she set her keys on the small table and moved toward the pantry. She ripped open a cookie bag and dipped one into her cold glass of milk.

The next evening, Anna sat in her Mustang, her forehead pressed to the steering wheel.

Adulterer.

The word didn’t just echo—it hissed inside her head like something venomous.

Her hand slammed against the steering wheel. “You don’t understand!” she yelled into the empty car. Her voice ricocheted against the glass. “I’m… I’m…”

A sob sliced the sentence into two. Her forehead dropped back to the wheel.

“Never mind…” she whispered.

One tear slid down her cheek.

Then another.

She flicked them away, catching her reflection in the rearview mirror, barely recognizing the woman staring back.

She swallowed hard, grabbed her bag, and shoved the door open.

Time for class.

Time to pretend.

She took a steady breath, smoothing her expression before stepping onto the court. She prayed no one would notice the pain behind it.

One hour.

She could fake for one hour.

But she managed to return serves and follow drills, though her usual precision was gone. Her footwork felt heavy, and her mind was clouded.

Brody wasn't fooled.

Throughout the lesson, he noticed her slipping focus—her quietness, her off-rhythm movements—and more than once, he caught her wiping her eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly after class.

Her gaze stayed locked on the bag’s zipper. “Honestly, no,” she whispered, unable to say more.

Brody stepped closer. “It’s okay,” he murmured, touching her shoulder. “Do you need a drink?”

She shook her head. “No. Not tonight,” she sighed. “I need to get home.”

Brody nodded, his eyes steady on hers. “Call me if you need me.”

“Thanks,” she murmured. “I’ll do that…”

“See you Friday?” he asked.

She softly grasped his hand, her fingers interwoven through his as she nodded with a gentle, grateful smile.

Anna pulled into the parking lot outside her apartment, blinking through tears as she fumbled through her purse for her phone.

Meanwhile, in a hotel room miles away, Steve paced with his hands behind his head. He hesitated before knocking on the bathroom door.

“Lily?” he called, clearing his throat.

“Yes?” she smirked. “Ready for round two?” she teased, wrapping a white towel around herself.

Steve dragged a hand across the back of his neck, his skin slick with sweat. “No. I… I can’t do this anymore.”

Her smile collapsed. She planted her hands on her hips, her eyes icing over. “You already did. You said you loved me.”

Steve’s shoulders sagged as he stared at his feet. “I know what I said, but I can’t do this anymore…”

“Are you kidding me?” she shouted. She struck him across the face. He stumbled back, one hand grabbing the sink for balance while the other cupped his stinging cheek.

“I can’t believe I wasted my time with you. Get out!”

Steve scurried from the bathroom, nearly tripping over his own feet. He stuffed his clothes into his bag, the zipper catching once, then twice, before he yanked it closed. He threw open the door and slung the bag over his shoulder. At the elevator, he jabbed the down button repeatedly.

Twenty minutes later, as he sat in his rental car in the hotel parking lot, Steve pulled out his phone, his hands shaking.

Back in her own car, Anna’s finger hovered over Brody’s name. But before she could press it, Steve’s name lit up. Her shoulders sagged.

“Hello…” Anna leaned back. “Steve?”

“Anna…” His voice broke. “I miss you.”

Her eyes closed. Her heart tightened.

“I need to talk to you when I get home,” he said quietly. “It’s important.”

“Okay,” she whispered. “We’ll talk.”

“I love you, Anna.”

The call ended. She let out a hollow laugh. “Really?” She threw up her hands. “Unbelievable!” She stormed inside and collapsed onto the couch with a frustrated grunt. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

The image of an empty pantry haunted her—no cookies, no sanctuary, only emptiness to soothe her. Brody’s face appeared in her mind… followed by Steve? Her vow? She pressed her face into a pillow, silent tears soaking through the fabric. She drifted off to sleep in its dampness.

Two days passed in a haze of emotion. Steve had neither texted nor called since his confession. When Friday finally came, Anna hurried home, braided her hair, slipped into her favorite pickleball skort, and grabbed her bag. She needed a distraction. She needed fresh air. She needed Brody.

When she arrived at the Dink and Drink, she didn’t hesitate. She ran straight into his arms.

“Don’t let go,” she whispered.

Brody pulled her closer.

They played until they were exhausted, then settled at their usual table. As Anna sipped her drink, she noticed a shadow moving toward them along the walkway. A man stepped under a pool of light—cowboy hat, half-unbuttoned dark blue shirt, jeans, boots, and daisies in his hands.

“Steve?” she whispered. She turned to Brody. “I think I see Steve. I’ll be right back.”

“I needed to see you,” Steve said, offering her the daisies. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” she said, taking the flowers.

“Please… meet me at home.” He gently took her hand. “We need to talk. It’s important.”

“Yes, of course,” she said quickly, withdrawing her hand.

Anna returned to Brody. “It was Steve,” she murmured, touching his arm. “He wants to talk. I…I need to go.”

Brody nodded. “I’ll wait to hear from you.”

At home, Steve sat with his hands clasped, his leg jittering.

“What’s going on?” Anna asked, placing the flowers on the end table and sitting across from him.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” His chin quivered. “I… I… had an affair.” A lump rose in his throat. “I met Lily in Boston. I ended it, but I know… It’s unforgivable.”

Anna sat in silence for a moment, processing his words. Then, without speaking, she stood and walked to the drawer. “I suspected something,” she admitted, pulling out a folded paper. “I found this in your pants pocket.” She set it in front of him.

He dropped his head. “I’m sorry.” She sat beside him.

“Anna, I don’t deserve to ask this, but I love you. I want to try to make our marriage work.” He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. “Will you forgive me? Please?”

Forgive him? Her eyebrow arched. Why should I? He betrayed our vows.

Her fingers drifted to the necklace at her throat. Brody’s touch. His warm hand in hers. The call she almost made, the kiss that she desperately wanted. All of it flashed through her mind.

She looked down, shaking her head. “I’ll try,” she said, placing both hands on her knees, “but I can’t promise anything.”

“I understand.” Their eyes met. “For better or worse,” he whispered.

He reached to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, but she stopped him. Leaning back on the couch, she murmured, “For better or worse.”

Steve retreated to the bedroom, leaving Anna alone with her thoughts. The weight of his confession settled over her like a heavy blanket, but instead of relief, she felt more confused than ever. A few hours later, Anna found herself back at the Dink and Drink.

Brody was still in the same booth, sitting and sipping a beer, when she slid in next to him.

“So, what happened?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her.

Her voice cracked. “It’s official…Steve had an affair.”

Brody gently touched her elbow. “With whom?”

“Lily,” she whispered over the noise of the bar.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered.

Tears blurred her vision. “Steve says he wants to work it out.”

“And you?” Brody’s voice softened as his thumb traced the back of her hand.

“I made a vow seven years ago.” Their eyes met. “I need to give my marriage a chance.”

“Anna…” He dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I… I love you.”

“Brody…” She leaned in, resting her forehead against his. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You make me feel special… and I haven’t felt that way in a very long time.” She swallowed hard. “But I can’t…”

“Why?” He cupped her face gently. “You deserve better.”

“Because”—she kissed his hands—“I made a promise and need to try to keep it.” Her eyes fell. “I’m truly sorry.”

She offered her hand. “Will you walk me to my car?”

He gently took it.

At her Mustang, Brody gently pulled her against him, arms encircling her waist. Anna didn’t resist. His heartbeat thudded steadily against her chest. Her heart raced.

He kissed her.

She didn’t just kiss him back.

She memorized him. The familiar scent of his favorite beer.

The warmth of his hand at the small of her back.

The quiet exhale he released when her forehead touched his shoulder.

“Please choose me,” he whispered.

Her arms tightened around him; her face pressed into his shirt. She inhaled deeply—Brody’s cologne, his tenderness, the essence of what could have been.

Her lips brushed his cheek—her voice barely more than a breath. Then she stepped back.

He looked at her with a mix of hopeful shock, but she kept her gaze lowered as her trembling hand opened the door and she slipped into the driver’s seat.

She drove into the darkness without looking back—his touch, his kiss still etched in her mind.

The drive home passed in a haze of tears and regret.

Anna stepped into the quiet apartment and flipped the light switch. Steve’s gentle snoring drifted from the bedroom. She shook her head, easing the door shut.

She lowered herself beside the sofa, holding milk in one hand and a bag of cookies in the other.

Brody’s cologne still softly scented her shirt, each breath evoking a deep sense of familiarity and comfort. Her fingers moved to the gold chain around her neck, where the tiny pendant vibrated with every memory she struggled to forget. An hour had gone by, and she already felt his absence.

She pulled her knees to her chest... For better or worse…”

A bite.

A swallow.

A single tear.

Her phone buzzed. She stared at the name on the screen. Anna inhaled slowly... And pressed accept.