Page 58 of An Unfinished Memory

The only person who knew the code to the garage and could get into the house—and wouldn’t leave Oreo barking his head off—was Wilder.

He might’ve left the remote behind, but I hadn’tchanged the code. I could use the excuse that I didn’t have time.

I’d had time.

The recognizable cadence of his footsteps down the hallway made it hard to breathe.

“Wilder?”

He didn’t stop to undress, but pulled the covers up and crawled in. “Yeah.”

The question was obvious. “What are you doing here?”

“I know what you need.”

His strong arm banded around me and pulled me flush into him. My back was pressed into his front. A wall of heat. Counter pressure.

My eyelids fluttered shut, and I moaned.

“Just let me take care of you.”

Tears squeezed past my closed eyes. The sweet results of all my pain relief attempts came together, and my muscles began to unknot themselves. The sharp ache ebbed, remaining dull but manageable. I could actually fall asleep and not be a zombie veterinarian in the morning.

All because Wilder knew what I needed.

These moments were why I had stayed married to him so long. He was a good guy. A fantastic lover. But in the morning, he’d be gone. And I didn’t know if he was coming back.

I didn’t bother to stop the tears. Crying turned to sobbing, and Wilder just held me. He stayed until I drifted off, and when my alarm rang in the morning, I was alone in bed.

Thirteen

Sutton

A week and a half after being held while I broke down in the dark with terrible cramps, I was in my Sunday pole dancing class. A very pregnant Tova circled me and Vienne. Her belly looked like it needed its own kickstand when she stood in place, but nothing about it made her a less active teacher.

Vienne sagged against her pole. One of the back rooms of the old theater in Crocus Valley had been converted into a workout room. My red and sweaty face was painfully clear in the wall of mirrors Cody and Ansen had installed.

The other three students who practiced with us had already left, but Vienne and I always stayed later to shoot the shit with Tova and help her clean up.

“I can’t feel my arms,” Vienne panted. She fanned herself. “How do strippers not sweat all over the stage?”

“Some guys are into it.” Tova made a motion forVienne to keep stretching. “Besides, they don’t notice much beyond the boobies.”

I snorted and folded into a deep bend.

“I’ll be right back,” Tova said. “I’ve got to pee. Again.”

Once she disappeared, Vienne straightened. “And then what?”

I laughed and pushed the hair out of my face. I had parked at Vienne’s house five blocks away and told her about Wilder’s visit, but Tova had been unlocking her studio, and I’d clammed up. “That’s it. I fell asleep, and he was gone when I woke up.”

Vienne flattened her lips. “He really cares about you.”

He did. “Not enough.” Not in a way I fundamentally needed.

“I wish I had something magical to say to make it better.” She went to the little cabinet in the corner and took out the disinfectant. She withdrew two rags and tossed me one. Tova wasn’t cleaning a thing tonight.

“Me too.”

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