Page 12 of Lust in Translation

Pressing my lips together, I sigh a long breath. “Adam and I got married because I was pregnant. I’m not pregnant anymore and we don’t have a baby to love and care for. To say our relationship is challenged is an understatement.” My gaze is anywhere except on his face. If I saw pity, I’d lose the strength I currently have.

“Listen, you can talk to me about it all day long. It sounds like you need to talk to him about it, though.”

I meet his gaze, and immediately regret it. It’s not pity, or anything I expect, it’s lust and my heart hammers faster. How can he carry on this conversation and look at me like that? “All Adam and I do is talk,” I explain. “He is finished talking. Adam wants things to go back to the way they were before.” I shake my head. “That will never happen.” How easy it is to fall back into friendship with Leo. My heart opens to him effortlessly, eager to divulge things I’m not quite ready to speak, but do anyway.

“It sounds like you’re trying to make it work. Therapist and all. Do you really want the marriage to overcome this? Or are you sabotaging it? Because you don’t think you’re worth the effort?” he asks, and it shocks me. He holds one hand up, palm facing me, before I can argue. “I’m not judging you. Remember, I’m an expert in self-sabotage.” He smiles, recalling a memory we’re both well versed in. “Although I can still fuck everything up better than you can. Ask Aidan.”

I run my hand through my hair, and Leo’s eyes follow the movement. I hate it and love it. He merely sees a woman. One whom he has things in common with. The simplicity of attraction. No strings. “I love my husband,” I proclaim.

Leo pulls his lip in between his teeth and smirks with his eyes. “You sure about that, Simmons?”

I straighten my back. “I do love him.”

His pseudo-grin turns into a big smile. “Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you’re in love with him.” He clears his throat. “I’m not saying you’re not, but you probably need to know how many people are married and fucking hate each other’s guts.”

“That’s awful. Why would you say such a thing?”

He shrugs, and takes a long swallow of his coffee now that it’s cooled. As he does I watch his muscles work under the stupid uniform. I close my eyes. “We need to start our lessons,” I say, trying to drive this personal bus back on public roads. “Did you come up with anything to say?” I ask. “In Spanish?”

“I said that because it’s the truth,” Leo says, ignoring my order. “My sister died,” he adds.

If I didn’t feel awkward and out of place before, I do now. His mom, dad, and sister lived in Cape Cod while he was stationed in Bronze Bay. He was trying to get a transfer to the Harbour Point SEAL base as quickly as possible because his little sister had cancer and was being treated at Boston Children’s Hospital. I’m such an asshole, I didn’t even think to ask how she was. My problems consume me, I haven’t gained my empathy back yet. Here is lesson one. The most painful.

“Oh, my God. I’m so, so sorry.”

He shakes his head, stands, and pulls his chair back to the table—a pretense that we’re about to get to work. “It’s okay. She was suffering so much at the end that I wanted her to die. Isn’t that sick?” He swallows hard and I’m sad he has to recall this painful moment.

“Anyway, I didn’t tell you so you’d feel bad for me. I’m telling you because my parents divorced after she died. They were so fucking miserable all those years and had only stayed together for Natalia. Her death set them both free. They’re both with new people now.”

“That had to be tough for you. For all of you,” I say, voice shaking as I stare at Leo’s wide back. I walk up to him and lay a hand on his shoulder. He flinches, but doesn’t meet my gaze. “I really am sorry. I’m glad Natalia isn’t suffering anymore. How are you doing? I feel awful. We’ve been talking about me and I never asked how you were doing. Not even once.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m a strong man. I’d rather talk about you,” he counters, sliding his cup away, and moving the tablet in front of him. “Where are we starting today, teach? You gonna tell me how to direct a ménage?”

“You expect me to drop it just like that?”

“It’s your job, right?”

“Oh, now it’s my job and we’ll be professional. Fine.”

Walking back to my desk, I grab my tablet and take a seat across from him. Huffing, I pull up a lesson and ramble off the numbers and tabs for him to click. “Got it?” I ask.

“You’re cute when you’re pissed.” He lets out a throaty laugh and buries his hands in his hair.

“I’d rather not talk about Natalia and personal stuff here. I was heading down to the cranberry bog off Peasant Street tonight. It was her favorite place to go when she wasn’t trapped in a hospital. I’ll talk about her all day long if you’d like to join me.”

Cape Cod produces most of the nation’s cranberries. A bog is where cranberries are grown and harvested. It’s one of the charming things I love about this place. I shouldn’t go with Leo. I know it’s a bad idea, but Adam wants me to make friends. It’s good for me. I reply before thinking it all the way through. “Sounds good.”

Leo’s face lights, and I look down to the screen. “Read that paragraph to me. We’ll work on pronunciation,” I say.

He reads. I watch his mouth as he stumbles over words. I wonder if he’s in Cape Cod alone, but for his friends. Does he have a girlfriend? Or a few? Who does he talk to about Natalia if his parents are gone?

“You’re not going to answer me?” Leo interrupts my thoughts.

“What?” I reply.

He tilts his head to the side. He repeats himself, in Spanish. “Did you miss me?”

I roll my eyes. “I’d forgotten all about you,” I reply in the same language.You can’t miss what you never had,I think.

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