fear and pain coursing through her heart. She needed to go numb.
She retrieved her laptop computer from her suitcase, retreated to the alcove between the bedroom and the bathroom, and clicked the cursor to open up some marketing reports. The light emanating from the screen bathed the dark walls in a pale blue glow. She stared at the data, refusing to think about anything except the numbers directly in front of her.
She heard rustling behind her, then Eric’s voice, thick with sleep. “Jen? What are you doing?”
“I thought you were asleep.”
“I was. But I’m freezing in there by myself now that we kicked all the blankets onto the floor. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
He came closer. “Was I snoring?”
“No. I’m just too wired to sleep right now. I can’t relax.”
“Well, if you need to work off some excess energy, I’m up for round two.” He placed his palms on her shoulders and gently kneaded the muscles at the base of her neck.
She pulled away from his touch. “Sorry. I’m a little jittery. Travel.”
“I’ll stay up with you,” he offered. “Want me to make coffee?”
“No, I’m okay.”
“Or, I know, there’s a twenty-four-hour diner around the corner. We could grab something to eat and read the Sunday paper. You must be starving.” He sounded so happy and confident.
“Not really.”
“What can I do to help you?”
This was her chance to talk to him about everything. She could smash through the barriers of silence between them and use last night’s lovemaking as the first step in establishing a marriage worthy of the title. She could finally let him in.
“Nothing.” She squeezed her hands together until her knuckles hurt and the edges of her wedding ring bit into her fingers. “I need a little time alone, that’s all.”
He hesitated. “But you just got here. And we haven’t seen each other in almost two weeks.”
“I know, but…”
“Staring at your laptop in the dark isn’t going to help you. A little fresh air and some food will do you good. Come on, I’ll get your coat.”
“No!” she said, her voice louder than she’d intended. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Do what? You flew across the country and showed up at my hotel room in the middle of the night and ripped off my clothes and now you’re telling me you can’t stand to look at me?”
“I know it doesn’t make sense, but…” She drew up her knees and covered her face. “It’s not you. This has nothing to do with you.”
“Then what does it have to do with?” The confusion and anxiety in his voice vanished.
“Oh.”
“What?” She twisted around to look at him, but he’d already turned his back to her.
“You can have the bed. I’ll sleep on the couch in the other room. Have your alone time. Have as much as you want. See you in the morning.”
Jen startled awake to find bright afternoon sunlight filtering through the hotel curtains and onto her face. She could hear muffled traffic noises in the distance—horns honking, doors slamming. Her neck ached from hunching over her computer and her throat was parched. It took her a moment to remember where she was.
She’d been too distracted to appreciate it last night, but the McMillan Hotel offered quite the cushy digs. Lustrous ice blue wallpaper offset the heavy, dark wood four-poster bed and armoire. The linens were high-thread-count and a pristine white duvet enveloped the fluffy down comforter. The pillow next to hers still bore the concave impression of Eric’s head. As the memories of their conversation came rushing back, she swung her feet down to the carpet.
She heard faint clinks and clatters from the other side of the door next to the armoire. “Honey?” she called.
The clinking ceased. “In here.”
She arranged herself into what she hoped was an irresistible picture of morning-after dishabille and waited for him to come to her, but the door remained closed.
Not a good sign. She
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