Page 81 of Bedroom Therapy

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“There are plenty of men who can’t cope with the idea that someone else touched their lover. It makes them withdraw from her emotionally.”

Hurt flashed in his eyes. “You think I’m that kind of jerk?”

“The way you were acting, you didn’t leave me much choice.”

“I was getting out of your way.”

“You were running away to make it impossible for me to hurt you—the way your wife did,” she corrected him.

He didn’t deny it, only shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

“Zach, I think we need to talk. If you’re willing to talk, that is,” she added, holding her breath as she waited for his answer.

She saw him swallow. “All right.”

She’d boldly started this conversation. Now she felt her own mouth go dry as she turned toward the seating area and lowered herself into the wingback chair.

When she found she was gripping the padded arms, she clasped her hands in her lap. She was very conscious that she’d rushed out here in her robe—with nothing under it. Now she wished she’d taken the time to get dressed. Only if she’d done that, maybe Zach would have already gone—and she would have lost this chance.

Chance—for what? Despite her resolve to remain calm, she found that her heart was racing.

When he looked expectantly at her, she licked her dry lips, then said, “If you assumed I blamed you, you’re wrong.”

“I left you alone in the house.”

“You obviously thought we were safe here.”

“I obviously made a miscalculation!”

“Stop it!”

“Stop what?”

“Putting up barriers between us.” When she saw he was about to speak again, she rushed on. “I’m not your former wife. I know you wouldn’t have deliberately put me in jeopardy. And for your information, Anderson’s finding us wasn’t your fault.”

He made a snorting sound.

“He told me how he did it. He followed us home from the grocery store. I should have listened to you and stayed home.”

She saw that register.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she repeated, punching out the words. “The most thankful moment of my life was when I knew you’d come to rescue me. Zach, I know you could have gotten yourself killed. I know what kind of risk you were taking.”

“I owed you that much.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I don’t want anything from you that you’re not freely willing to give.”

He sat on the sofa, regarding her, his hands pressed to the cushions as though he needed to ground himself.

There was so much she wanted to make him understand, and she didn’t know where to start. But she knew the important thing: that he believe what she was saying.

“Your wife was looking for someone to blame for her own inadequacies. She took it out on you,” she said softly.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, speaking as a trained psychologist,” she began, because she thought that might give her observations more weight, “all marriages go through ups and downs. If the people care enough about each other to make it work, they stay together. If one of them doesn’t, then it’s not going to survive, no matter how much the other partner wants to keep the relationship going.”

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