clambered out of bed, slipped on an embroidered white robe she found hanging in the bathroom, tugged a damp comb through her hair, and prepared to face the consequences of last night’s amorous ambush.
Eric sat reading the newspaper in a gray wingback chair in the corner of a small sitting room. His stocking-feet were propped up on a glass coffee table, but the rest of him was decked out in full office regalia: starched shirt, striped power tie, pressed black pants. Jen noticed the remains of a room service meal on the side table next to him: buttery crumbs and smudges of jam on an elegant silver-rimmed plate.
She sidled up to the coffee table and waited for him to acknowledge her.
He didn’t look up from the paper.
She rubbed her ankle with the instep of her other foot. “Um, hi. Good morning.”
He very slowly and deliberately folded up the newspaper. “Good morning to you. Did you sleep well?”
She sank down on the ottoman next to his chair. “I guess so. I missed you, though. You didn’t have to move to the sofa out here.” The lapels of her robe gaped forward as she leaned toward him. He didn’t appear to notice.
“So last night was pretty incredible, huh?” she prompted.
“Mmm. I ordered you some egg whites and fresh grapefruit. Over there on the wet bar.” He nodded toward a tray covered with a metal dome, then returned his attention to the business section.
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about…everything. I don’t know what was going on in my head.”
He didn’t lift his gaze. “Apology accepted.”
“So we’re okay?” She nibbled her lower lip. “I had a great time last night. You were amazing. I mean, we were just out of control! I’m surprised no one called security.”
He set aside the newspaper.
She tucked her feet under her and smiled. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? A really long while. In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t even remember the last time we—”
“Enough,” he snapped. “I get it. We’ve had a long, agonizing, sexless marriage.”
She flinched at the rancor in his voice. “Don’t say that. I flew all the way out here to show you how much I love you.”
“Give me a break.” He turned his face toward the wall. “You didn’t fly out here because you love me. You flew out here to make yourself feel better about the fact that you
don’t
love me and you never have. Don’t deny it. We both know the bottom line: we never should have gotten married. This whole thing was a huge mistake.”
At first, she was too shocked to be hurt. Eric had never spoken to her this way. Ever. He was the sweetest, mildest, most considerate man she’d ever met. “Where is this coming from?”
He didn’t respond.
“Stop ignoring me!” She shook off her confusion and leapt to her feet. “I want to talk about this!”
He spread out his arms in a gesture of surrender. “I’m done talking. It’s over. I give up.”
“You give up? Right after we have the best sex of our lives? What the hell is going on?”
“You know exactly what’s going on.” His expression hardened. “Patrick Spillane is back. And whatever was going on between you two never really ended.”
Jen’s throat closed up. “You heard about Patrick?”
“About a week ago.” He watched her face for any flicker of emotion. “I was wondering when you’d find out, and last night, I got my answer.”
“Last night had nothing to do with Patrick,” she insisted. “You’re being ridiculous. And paranoid. And…and…”
Eric smoothed out his tie. “So you haven’t seen him or spoken to him since he came back to town?”
She sidestepped the question and tried to focus on what mattered most. “Patrick has nothing to do with us, Eric. He’s history, and you’re my future. That’s what I was trying to show you last night. I love you. You’re my best friend.”
“That’s the problem right there. I’m the best friend, and I’ll never be able to compete with the
Eric sat reading the newspaper in a gray wingback chair in the corner of a small sitting room. His stocking-feet were propped up on a glass coffee table, but the rest of him was decked out in full office regalia: starched shirt, striped power tie, pressed black pants. Jen noticed the remains of a room service meal on the side table next to him: buttery crumbs and smudges of jam on an elegant silver-rimmed plate.
She sidled up to the coffee table and waited for him to acknowledge her.
He didn’t look up from the paper.
She rubbed her ankle with the instep of her other foot. “Um, hi. Good morning.”
He very slowly and deliberately folded up the newspaper. “Good morning to you. Did you sleep well?”
She sank down on the ottoman next to his chair. “I guess so. I missed you, though. You didn’t have to move to the sofa out here.” The lapels of her robe gaped forward as she leaned toward him. He didn’t appear to notice.
“So last night was pretty incredible, huh?” she prompted.
“Mmm. I ordered you some egg whites and fresh grapefruit. Over there on the wet bar.” He nodded toward a tray covered with a metal dome, then returned his attention to the business section.
She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry about…everything. I don’t know what was going on in my head.”
He didn’t lift his gaze. “Apology accepted.”
“So we’re okay?” She nibbled her lower lip. “I had a great time last night. You were amazing. I mean, we were just out of control! I’m surprised no one called security.”
He set aside the newspaper.
She tucked her feet under her and smiled. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? A really long while. In fact, now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t even remember the last time we—”
“Enough,” he snapped. “I get it. We’ve had a long, agonizing, sexless marriage.”
She flinched at the rancor in his voice. “Don’t say that. I flew all the way out here to show you how much I love you.”
“Give me a break.” He turned his face toward the wall. “You didn’t fly out here because you love me. You flew out here to make yourself feel better about the fact that you
don’t
love me and you never have. Don’t deny it. We both know the bottom line: we never should have gotten married. This whole thing was a huge mistake.”
At first, she was too shocked to be hurt. Eric had never spoken to her this way. Ever. He was the sweetest, mildest, most considerate man she’d ever met. “Where is this coming from?”
He didn’t respond.
“Stop ignoring me!” She shook off her confusion and leapt to her feet. “I want to talk about this!”
He spread out his arms in a gesture of surrender. “I’m done talking. It’s over. I give up.”
“You give up? Right after we have the best sex of our lives? What the hell is going on?”
“You know exactly what’s going on.” His expression hardened. “Patrick Spillane is back. And whatever was going on between you two never really ended.”
Jen’s throat closed up. “You heard about Patrick?”
“About a week ago.” He watched her face for any flicker of emotion. “I was wondering when you’d find out, and last night, I got my answer.”
“Last night had nothing to do with Patrick,” she insisted. “You’re being ridiculous. And paranoid. And…and…”
Eric smoothed out his tie. “So you haven’t seen him or spoken to him since he came back to town?”
She sidestepped the question and tried to focus on what mattered most. “Patrick has nothing to do with us, Eric. He’s history, and you’re my future. That’s what I was trying to show you last night. I love you. You’re my best friend.”
“That’s the problem right there. I’m the best friend, and I’ll never be able to compete with the
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