Page 118 of Chosen Road

He walked in as if nothing was amiss.

“Please see,” I couldn’t even bring myself to say her name so just waved in her direction, “out and then come on back. I’ve got twenty minutes.”

Caden waved his arm toward the door, a serious look on his face. “I’ll see you out, Jackie.”

“Jacqueline,” she hissed, and with one last look over her shoulder, she preceded him out the door.

I sat down heavily at the table, my head in my hands, the guilt suffocating me.

I didn’t hear Caden return until he pulled out a chair. “I’d offer you a drink but it’s probably not in your best interest to greet your client smelling like a liquid lunch.”

“It’s not what you think…” I twisted my mouth to the side. For fuck’s sake, he probably knew as much as I did. Maybe more.

“That woman is a viper. She’s been after you for years. I’m glad you ditched her ass.”

“What do you mean?” My eyebrows drew together angrily. “We were never a couple. Never. She was only ever my assistant. By the time my dumb ass figured out what was happening, I lost my wife.”

“Ah, well. That’s not quite the version of events she spouts.”

I looked at him. Part of me wanted to shut the conversation down, the other half wondered if he had information that I didn’t.

“You feel like enlightening me?”

“You’re her Romeo, she’s your Juliet. You sacrificed your luxury job to make sure she was looked after while you figured out what to do about your wife and son.”

My jaw hit the table, and he laughed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Anyways,” he rapped the table sharply, “watch your back with that one.”

If I’d thought the day was going slowly up until that point, it positively crawled after that. Feeling pursued and out of control, I knew only one thing.

I needed my wife.

Amber

Curdles of anxiety burned the lining of my stomach. Ten minutes before Mallory’s appointment, her foster mother called to let me know Mallory was sick and wouldn’t make it in. I knew by the apologetic tone of her voice, a note I’d heard a thousand times before, that Mallory felt just fine.

Pushing would get me nowhere. “Would you please tell Mallory that I’ll miss seeing her today and that I look forward to seeing her next week? And, if there’s anything I can do or not do, to help get her here, please let me know.”

She sighed into the phone. “Thank you for understanding. Not everybody does, and it’s the one thing she needs.”

I tidied up my office and readied myself to leave, a bit earlier than expected. I texted Gus that I would go check on Yiayia, change my clothes, and then meet him at the condo.

My excitement for our night together had fizzled somewhat under my worry and disappointment. I needed Gus. Gus in any way, shape, or form eased my soul, but the Gus of old would transport my soul clear out of my body and I craved it.

The condo was quiet and stark. Impersonal. Exactly as it was when I moved in. How did I go from my home with Gus to this and not shrivel to nothing? Unconsciously, my hand went to my ribs, feeling the new softness beneath my skin, then swept down noting the snug fit of my jeans.

My life during the months apart from him was equally stark and colorless. A frisson of anxiety rippled down my spine. My brain told me he was cheating when he wasn’t.

How do I know that won’t happen again?

What if I ignore the warnings my brain is firing, and next time it’s not me, but him?

Pulling in a deep, cleansing breath, I calmed myself. Trust is a choice. Make the best decision you can with the information you have and commit to it. I could do that.

The alternative is suspicion and withdrawal, which landed me here. He was late. Only ten minutes, but even one minute was enough for my brain to conjure up images of car accidents and illicit rendezvous. I took a purposeful, deep, breath, and redirected my attention. Curling into the couch, I immersed myself in my book until I heard Gus’s key turn in the lock.

I closed down the app and turned with a smile.

Gus stood in the doorway, a heavy frown on his face.

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