Page 57 of Wife Unwanted
My heart skipped a beat. My own fork slipped through my fingers. He has never said that word before. In all our five years of marriage, he has tried his best to not ask me for anything, let alone plead. “Why can’t Nolan convince them himself?” I asked.
“Mae and Arther are a little precious with their company. They want to sell it to someone they feel will take good care of it.I am sure my brother will, but he doesn’t think he can convince them. That’s where we come in.”
“The seducers.”
He picked up his glass and tilted it towards me. “Exactly. If you do this, I will not fight you in the divorce, like I was planning to.”
That took me by surprise. “You were planning to fight me?”
“I am a lawyer, Thalia. Of course, I wanted a fight. But I'm willing to let it go, if you agree to this. I can pay you for your troubles.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“Only my father’s, apparently.”
The glare I gave him was enough for him to drop the subject and turn his attention back to his food. I had barely touched mine and now that I learned I was going to be in his presence for a few more weeks, my appetite further shrank. How was going to handle being around him when I have just patched my confidence back together again?
“If you continue with the barbs, I will leave," I said after a long silence. "I am only agreeing to this because I care about your brother and actually don’t mind being in the company of the Bardwells."
He jerked his head up and stopped chewing. His gaze was hot and scrutinizing. I held my ground as I waited for him to return with another barb. That was always how our relationship worked. He says something mean to me. I retaliate or cower. I have never put a stop to it until this dinner. He nods so slightly that I almost miss it.
My appetite returns as I feel better about myself, and we finish the supper in silence. After we’re done, he offers to do the dishes and I go to my room. I don’t think I can stand to be in the same room with him longer than necessary without making a fool of myself or showing that I am not as strong as I waspretending to be. As soon as I finish my nightly routine, I send a text to Darcy.
“I am no longer coming tomorrow. The marriage has been extended by a couple of weeks.”
Darcy doesn’t respond immediately, and it’s only after I’ve gotten ten pages into the paperback I am reading do I hear my phone ring.
“Are his pussy eating skills that good?” she responds.
I chuckle to myself. They were that good, but Carey would never use them to persuade him not to divorce him. I can count on my fingers the number of times we’ve had sex in our marriage and they were less than five.
“He needs help with family business, that’s all.”
Darcy responds sooner this time. “Is thatwhat he says?”
“It’s not what you think. He told me over what can be best be described as a business dinner. All formal with none of the heat.”
Well the last part wasn’t true. I did feel hot every time he cast a glance my way. That was how it always was when it came to him. Even when he was being colder than an iceberg, I would always feel like he was melting me only with his eyes. Five years later in a dead marriage and he still had the ability to make my groin clench with just a look. At least now I knew it was just physical attraction and not love.
“You should have thrown the plate in his face and flipped the table like a Real Housewife.” I chuckled. She sent another text. “On the bright side, maybe this will give you time to reconsider your nonsensical terms.”
I was about to reply that there was no way in hell I was going to change when the door to my room crashed open. Carey sauntered in. “Who are you talking to?”
I felt my eyes narrow. He has never once cared what was going on in my life.“None of your business,” I said, putting the phone down on my bed beside me and picking up my paperback.I tried to act nonchalant about the fact that he had crossed a threshold he deemed unholy.
“Whatever. We will be meeting the Bardwells on the weekend and then we will go to Nantucket together.”
He folded his arms as though waiting for a fight. He looked like a formidable force in his cream cashmere sweater and her black slacks. My heart raced as my gaze lingered on his bulging biceps and unable to utter a word without betraying my wayward thoughts, I nodded.
“Good,” he said and left.
I hated Nantucket. Not that there was anything wrong with the place, but it was his domain. It was were he carried his affair with Gemma. I didn’t know it for a fact, but I didn’t need to do any deep digging to know that it was true. He would go there every weekend and when he came back, he had that flushed freshly fucked look that betrayed any cheating husband. Only it’s not cheating in his case when we’re in an open marriage. It still ground my gears nonetheless. An irrational part of me said he was my husband. I wanted him to myself even though he hated me.
Chapter 29
Thalia
CAREY’S BEACH HOUSEwas beautiful. Unlike the oppressive MacMansions that littered this area, Carey’s was a neat, dutch colonial style, four bedroomed house that, while not small by any measure, was not overly large and grandiose. It was between a white sandy beach at the back and a green, well-manicured lawn. No wonder he spent most of his weekends here. I would never leave if I were him. And for a sailor, I have to imagine this was the perfect house to live in. The interior was all him. It had the regular beach house style one would expect, but there was also an understated elegance to the deco and a sharpness that reminded me of Carey. I wondered if Gemma had a hand in styling it. She was an interior decorator after all.
