Page 70 of Wife Unwanted
"Yeah, well, not everything is what it looks like from the outside."
Ivy nodded. "True. Whatever the case," she reached out and squeezed my hand. "I am on your side. My brother can be a little prick sometimes. What did he do?"
"It's not his fault this time around."
She adjusted her chair and leaned in. "I'm listening."
Maybe there was something about Ivy's warmness, or maybe it was the coffee. It might even be the croiclair. But what started as a thirty-second explanation turned into a long unburdening of my entire marriage to Carey. Starting from the office party right down to the weekend in Nantucket. She listened intently without judgement, and only asking questions when she needed clarification. When I was done, I felt a weight lift off my chest.
She clucked. "Damn, my father did a number on you two." I nodded. For the first time in quite a while, I felt like I was talking to someone who understood what I was going through. Ivy leaned further in and spoke in conspiratory hushed tones. "Do you love him? Carey?"
I nodded again. There was no use lying to her.
"Do you want to be with him?"
"I don't know. Our relationship is so fraught. He wants to give it another go, but I don't think it's possible anymore. I'm not sure he can fully trust me, you know."
"I know what you mean. Damien and I didn't start on great footing as well. There was a lot of deception between us, as you know. But we worked through it and found out we have more in common than I thought. He loves me. I love him. And it took a lot to get to that point, but here we are. If you want him, why not give him the chance? And I am not saying that because he's my brother, by the way. Carey can be a douche nozzle when he feels like it."
I chuckled.
"It's true. I still haven't forgiven him for what he said to me at the memorial brunch. But you… you bring out the best in him. Think about it, will you?"
A barista came over and asked to speak to Ivy. They went to the side, and a couple of minutes later, Ivy made her excuses. "A coffee emergency has come up. I have to attend to it."
She left me to drink the rest of my coffee alone while I mauled over our conversation. I drank alone in silence as I watched the patrons come in and out. At some point, a handsome man came in. Damien Sinclair, Ivy's husband. She beamed when she saw him. He produced a single rose out of his jacket, and Ivy exclaimed in surprise as she went to hug him. Instead, he gave her a kiss that was long and a little too riske for a coffee shop. When they separated, Ivy was beet red. Damien was holding her possessively. They were in love.
Damn. I wanted a love like that.
Chapter 36
Thalia
HIS EYES WEREred and blurry when he opened the door. They looked a little disoriented at first and then they widened. "Thalia." His voice was groggy. With sleep? I couldn't tell, but there was a distinct smell of whiskey coming from him.
"Do you want us to talk here or…"
He widened the door. "No! Of course not!" He shook himself and gave me space to come in. I crossed the threshold of the familiar apartment. It was the same. Nothing had changed and yet it felt as though everything in it had shifted. Some things were not where they were. One of the wall paintings was crooked. There was a vase missing. Sofa pillows were on the floor. There was a box of old pizza on the coffee table. An empty bottle of whiskey was lying on the floor.
I turned to look at him, and he brushed his hair away from his face in embarrassment. "I didn't think you're coming. He rushed past me and began cleaning the mess. "Are you here to take your things? I saw you left most of your clothes here. Your wardrobe is basically full."
I blanched, wondering if I had made a mistake coming here. Maybe he had finally decided to let me go. "You no longer want to give our relationship a chance?"
"No. Wait." He paused. "Is that why you're here?"
"I thought maybe it would be a great idea to do a do over before we call the whole experiment quits. If you still want that, of course."
"I do!" He rushed over to the kitchen to dispose of the stuff he had in his hands and came back looking a little cleaner than he did when he opened the door. He threw the pillows back on the sofas and sat down. I went over to seat in the opposite couch.
"So no more divorce?"
"Not yet anyway. I know you don't love me."He started, but I raised a hand to stop him. "I know you don't love me and I am willing to live with that if you at least show me you care. I think I can leave with a man who cares. That's all I want. And in return, I will show you that you can trust me. I know I lied to you, but I promise never to do that again."
He nodded. "I am okay with that. Are you moving back in?"
"My suitcases are downstairs. I didn't want to be forward."
He smiled for the first time. "Great." He got up. "Let me call concierge and ask them to bring them over."
