Page 22 of A Man After Midnight

Chapter Nine

It was past midnight and Caroline couldn’t sleep.

She lay in bed, alone, listening to Aldy’s delicate little snores, recounting her actions at Perversions. It had been wicked. Delicious. Wren had made her feel secure and not embarrassed at all that she had gotten aroused by watching two people fuck in front of her.

Then his questions had started. She might be willing to share her body, but her heart was another matter altogether. Thankfully, he seemed to have understood and dropped the subject, but Caroline couldn’t help but think that somehow she had lost her chance at the intimacy they seemed to have formed. Truth be told, it was a little heartbreaking.

True to his word, what they had together was nothing but a fling. Great sex––and nothing more. Once they had gotten to his room, they had been frenzied. Clothes scattered as urgency took over. They had come together in a flurry of heated kisses and heavy petting. And though it had been wild and satisfying, a small part of her realized it hadn’t been as fulfilling as earlier encounters. Wren had passed out in sleep right after, and Caroline had taken the opportunity to leave. To go back to her room she shared with Aldy and shower. And although her body was bone tired, her mind couldn’t find rest.

She and Greg had been high school sweethearts. When he had told her he had a desire to move to Los Angeles to pursue his love of acting, she had supported his dream. And after they had married, she had done any job she could find to pay the bills while he went on audition after audition. And though it had been a constant struggle to stay afloat financially, she had been secure in the knowledge that she at least had love.

But over the course of their marriage, Greg had changed in a way that she didn’t quite recognize. He made friends with people she couldn’t identify with, talked about things she had no knowledge of, and stayed out longer and longer.

Through it all, Caroline hadn’t said one thing to him. She had let him be who he had become. She had taken the side road instead of walking beside him, bottling up the outrage and resentment that had been born from dead love. Hating him, and then hating herself for not caring more. And she had told herself when the divorce had been finalized that she would change, that she would become the woman who would make Greg grovel at her feet and beg for forgiveness.

But all she’d managed to do was retreat inside a shell to protect herself from being hurt again in the future.

New York City had become a game changer. Wren Calder wasn’t someone she’d been prepared for, and his words echoed deep in her soul. Numb. Yes, it was an apt description. Caroline realized that instead of living, she had been merely surviving. Being numb meant she wouldn’t be hurt. She wouldn’t have to care.

She wasn’t sure if she was ready to feel again.

Caroline sighed and rubbed her temples. Thoughts of Greg always brought a headache. She ignored the little voice in her head whispering that perhaps it was too late already to return to her comfortable cocoon. The numbness was starting to fade.

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