Out Of The Smoke by Becca Jameson

even a remote sense that he forced her to do his bidding. He’d even been apologetic about it. And she was glad to take the pressure off her throbbing injury.
    She sat and Alan quickly brought her a Ziploc baggy filled with ice.
    Grateful for the ability to save face, Liz pushed the ice against her back and relaxed against the chair to support it and keep from falling.
    When she looked up, he was staring at her, his arms loaded with ingredients from the refrigerator. “What do you like on your sandwich?” He unceremoniously deposited the loot on the counter between them.
    She swallowed, but couldn’t stop her eyes from watering once again. She couldn’t remember a single time in her life when anyone had ever asked her what she wanted or for that matter did something for her. It was only a sandwich, but it was so much more. She suddenly doubted her resolve to keep Alan at arm’s length. What if he was truly sincere? Was it possible for someone to actually care about her and her feelings?
    “Liz? Honey? You’re killing me here.” Alan froze in front of her. “I’m trying my damndest to be chivalrous and you’re ruining it with those tears. Stop it or I’m going to come over there and pull you into my arms,” he warned playfully.
    “Ham…turkey…swiss?”
    “Coming right up.” Without looking her in the eye, Alan spent the next several minutes assembling bread and meat and cheese. Liz tried to regain her composure.
    Alan placed the sandwich on the table before her. She couldn’t keep her eyes off him as he headed for the fridge, and then returned with a variety of soft drinks balanced across his forearms. “Or I have juice, milk, and water, if you prefer?”
    “Coke is fine.” She reached for the closest can and lightened the load. Alan set the rest of the cans on the counter with a shiver, red splotches covering his arms from the cold.
    They ate in silence, Alan across from her. The food had no taste. She didn’t remember swallowing a single bite, but when she looked down, it was gone. Then for no justified reason, she began to speak.
    “I was married to him.”
    Alan stopped chewing, the last bite still in his mouth. Moments passed. Neither spoke. The only sound was his audible swallow.
    Liz took a deep breath and cringed inwardly when the act jiggled the ice at her back. “Still am, actually,” she managed through slightly clenched teeth. When was this pain going to let up? She was trying her damndest not to let it show, but jeez.
    Alan didn’t move. Didn’t pressure her to reveal more. Whatever emotion he felt didn’t register in his tailored expression.
    Liz started to sweat, even though the temperature in the room was quite cool. She looked around at the stainless steel appliances and wondered what her life could have been like if only she’d married a man like Alan instead of Matthew.
    Would she have had children by now? Be a working mom or a stay-at-home mom? A weary smile touched her lips at the vision in her mind. Then she returned her gaze to the man sitting across from her as still as a statue, waiting.
    She could fall for a man like him. If only she had met him before Matthew. If only…
    She drew in a deep breath and continued. “It wasn’t always like that. In the beginning, he was kind and considerate. I thought he loved me.” She glanced down at her lap and then back up into Alan’s eyes. Why did she feel compelled to tell him the whole, sordid truth?
    “I was in college when my mother died, my last semester. I happened to meet Matthew while I was out with some friends. He swept me away with his wit and charm. Within months, we were engaged. I guess I was so enamored with him. Thought I was in love with him.” And he was rescuing me from a difficult financial situation . She left those words unspoken. “I didn’t stop to think his actions were anything less than honest.”
    Alan leaned against the counter on his elbows, but didn’t utter a word. His attention focused fully