by Vivi Holt
She slid into the water with a smile, then gasped as the cold enveloped her body.
Several laps later, she was warm and supple again. She lay on her back and floated there a while, staring up at the ceiling overhead that reflected a dappled light from the water.
It was so peaceful there. It felt like home.
Her heart squeezed, and she let her eyes drift shut for a moment. The sound of the porch door sliding open made them fly open again, and she righted herself with a splash.
“Hello. This is a surprise.”
John looked down at her, his hands on his hips.
“Hi.”
“What are you doing here?” he asked.
His voice was hard, cold, and she didn’t like the way it sounded. Her skin prickled.
“I came to get my things.”
“You didn’t have to do that,” he said, pacing over to a lounge chair, and lowering himself into it with a cold smile. “I would’ve shipped everything to you. I planned on asking Josie to do it this week. I’m sorry I didn’t do it sooner. I’ve been…busy.”
“I know, it’s fine. But I thought we should talk too. Resolve things. We left everything so…”
“Broken?” he responded as he crossed one long leg over the other.
Her cheeks flushed with warmth. “Undone.”
“Another good word.”
She sighed. “Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”
He raised both hands as though in surrender. “I have no plans to do that.”
“I meant to be packed and ready to leave by the time you got home. I’m sorry…”
“Not your fault. I came home early,” he said, sounding suddenly tired.
She swam to the edge of the pool and hoisted herself out to sit on the edge. His eyes raked over her, then he looked away.
“Why’d you come home early?” she asked.
He shook his head. “I haven’t been feeling…well.”
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
She left it there. She knew exactly what he meant—she’d been feeling the same way. Ending what they’d had between them had left her empty inside. It’d take some time for them both to move on.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
He didn’t respond.
“I’ll just go and get my things together.”
“Don’t hurry on my account,” he said. “Where are you staying?”
She stood to her feet and squeezed the water from her hair. “I haven’t booked anything yet, but I’m sure I can find a hotel nearby.”
“Don’t bother,” he replied. “You can stay in your room. We’re still married after all. This is your home. At least for a little while longer.”
It would be a relief not to have to lug all her belongings away to a hotel somewhere. She sighed and gave a quick nod. It seemed they wouldn’t be having that talk just yet after all, not with the way he was acting. It hurt her heart to see him so uncomfortable around her. “Thank you, John. That would be wonderful.”
John set the drink down on the bar and rested his head in his hands. He’d had to get out of the apartment. Eve was there, watching a movie in a pair of pajamas on his couch. It hurt him physically to be so close to her and not be able to touch her, hold her, kiss her. The scent of lavender haunted the apartment once more. He couldn’t escape it or her.
He groaned quietly then reached for his soda and took another sip.
“Why so sad?” asked Chris, sitting at the bar beside him.
“Hey,” responded John, offering his brother a quick embrace.
“What’s going on, bro?” asked Chris.
He signaled to the bartender to get him the same drink John had, then focused his attention on his brother.
John grimaced. “Eve’s back.”
“What?” Chris grinned. “Back for good? That’s awesome news.”
John scowled at him. “No, no she’s not back for good. She’s back to get her stuff.”
“Ahhh.” The bartender handed Chris his drink, and he took a gulp before setting it down on the bar next to John’s. “Now it all makes sense.”
“What does?” growled John, staring across the bar into space.
“The sudden need to meet for a drink, the look on your face, the slumped shoulders, the irritation at everything I say.” Chris chuckled to himself.
John’s eyes narrowed. “Very helpful. Thank you.”
“So, what are you going to do about it?”
John’s gaze focused on his brother’s face. “Nothing. There’s nothing I can do about it. She made her choice. I’m not going to try to force her to change her mind.”
“Dude, you’re so thick sometimes.”
John frowned. “What?”
“She came all the way back here to get her things. She could’ve just called you and asked you to send them. How far is it…like twenty-four hours in coach to get here?”
John nodded. “At least.”
“That’s a long way to come for a few dresses and some shoes.”
Chris had a point. When Eve had moved into the apartment, she hadn’t exactly brought a lot with her. John had often wondered if she had a storage unit somewhere or just traveled light through life. But he’d never thought to ask.
“Okay, maybe you’re right. Maybe she came back for more than her clothes. But what?”
“You. Of course, you.” Chris gave an exasperated sigh.
“Do you think so?” John’s back straightened on the bar stool. She hadn’t acted that way when he found her in the pool.
“I think so. But you’ll never know if you don’t say something. Just ask her. See what she says. You might be pleasantly surprised. Heck, it could change your life. What do you have to lose?”
“But our marriage was a fake anyway,” mused John, shoulders slumping again.
“True. But your feelings aren’t. Right?”
John inhaled slowly, considering Chris’s words. What did he feel for her? He knew he missed her when she was gone. That she was the one person he wanted to see when he came home at night, and the one he wanted to talk to when something happened, good or bad. When he considered taking a vacation or growing old, it was her face he saw beside him.
He nodded. “Right.”
“Do you love her?”
“The only thing I know about love is that it’s painful, and someone can use it to rip your heart out,” he snarled, gulping another mouthful of soda.
Chris’s eyes rolled. “No, that’s not love. When you love someone, you can’t imagine living your life without them. You don’t want to be away from them, ever. You don’t get sick of them; they grow on you. Every day you like them more and want to be with them. Is that how you feel about Eve?”
As John studied his brother’s face his head spun. “Yeah, it is. How did you know?”
Chris laughed. “You’re in love, bro. It happens to the best of us.”
“You and Trina?” asked John. His brother’s girlfriend had died when Chris was only twenty years old. He’d wondered if Chris had ever gotten over it. Now he understood why he hadn’t.
Chris’s face clouded over. “Yeah.”
“So, what do I do?” asked John, standing, and leaving a tip on the bar.
“You have to talk to her. Tell her how you feel. Give her a chance to open up as well. And don’t hold back. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way, at least you’ll know, and you won’t have any regrets.”
John slapped his brother’s shoulder, then sprinted for the door. “Thanks, Chris! I’ll call you later,” he shouted over his shoulder as he ran.
Chapter 24
In bed, Eve lay still, staring up at the ceiling. Rolling over, she curled her hands beneath her chin and tucked her legs up under her. The bed was unbelievably luxurious. After sleeping in her old bedroom back in Brisbane, on the mattress her parents had purchased for her twenty years earlier, it was a relief to be back home.
Home.
When
she was deep in thought, the word she used to describe this condo was always home.
Was it truly her home?
She sighed and let her eyes drift shut though sleep seemed far away. Jet lag always impacted her like this. She’d get to sleep eventually though, she knew that. If she just lay still and quiet with her eyes shut, at some point she’d drift into a light slumber. Then she’d probably wake at three o’clock in the morning ready for dinner, her stomach growling with hunger.
She smiled to herself and let her thoughts wander.
The elevator doors dinged open and then whooshed shut. John must be home. He’d gone out earlier. She’d been disappointed not to spend the evening with him, though she understood why he must’ve done it. He wasn’t comfortable around her, that much he’d made perfectly clear by his body language and constant pacing to the kitchen, back to the living room, then the kitchen again, while they were watching a movie. Finally, he’d leapt to his feet and informed her he was going out and would be back late.
That was the last she’d seen of him, and her heart had fallen at the idea of not being able to spend a few last shared moments together in their home.
Footsteps fell along the hall, then stopped outside her bedroom door. She’d left it open, and even though her eyes remained shut she could feel his gaze on her. He stood there for a minute, then crept closer. She could hear his movements, even though he hardly made a sound.
He sighed softly, then left the room, padding up the hallway to his own bedroom.
A lump formed in her throat. She missed him. Missed talking with him, sitting by him. She longed to feel his arms around her again, even if just for one last time. But it wouldn’t be fair, not to either of them. It was over, and she’d just have to accept that.
When Eve woke the next morning, John was already gone. No doubt he’d left early for work, and he hadn’t woken her. When she lived there, she’d never been able to sleep late. He’d worked out in his home gym, watched the news, flipped on the coffee maker, cooked eggs, and all manner of things that made noise. And she was a light sleeper. He must’ve worked hard to be quiet that morning unless it was the jet lag that had her sleeping so soundly.
As expected, she’d woken at around two-thirty and wandered the dark apartment for an hour or so. Then, after drinking a glass of warm milk, she’d gone back to bed to toss and turn for another two hours before finally succumbing to sleep.
When she wandered into the kitchen, the clock on the microwave announced the time to be ten o’clock. She’d slept late, and it felt good.
The coffee maker had a note stuck to it. She yawned and plucked it free to read it.
Coffee’s hot. Make yourself at home. I’ll be back early. Don’t eat first. Love, John.
Love?
The note was definitely a lot warmer than his reception of her had been the day before. And, if he didn’t want her to eat before he got home, perhaps he intended for them to eat together. She still had two days before her flight home, and that time would give them a chance to finally talk, get some things resolved, and part as friends.
She smiled and reached for a coffee mug. Things were looking brighter already.
She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the counter with it cupped between her hands. A pile of mail sat on the counter, fanned out the way John liked it to be. Josie would’ve placed it there that morning.
She flicked through it absently, then her eyes widened when she saw one envelope addressed to her.
It was about her visa.
She sliced the envelope open with a fingernail and tore the letter free. A small card was attached to the bottom of the page. Her eyes clouded with tears.
Her green card.
She was free to do what she wished with her life now. Free to make a choice based on what she most wanted to do. She sobbed and held the letter to her chest. If only she knew what that was.
Eve spent the day sorting through her things and packing them into the boxes she’d had the concierge deliver to the condo that morning. By the time John got home, she’d had time for a swim, a shower and had even curled her hair and applied makeup.
It felt strange to be waiting for him to come home as she had done so many times before. But this time, butterflies buzzed in her stomach. Her heart skipped a beat every time she heard the whir of the elevator. Finally, she put on some music to drown out the sound.
When a Taylor Swift song came on, she danced around the apartment, singing along to it at the top of her lungs. When was the last time she’d let loose like that? She couldn’t remember. But it set something free inside of her, and a giggle bubbled up from the depths of her gut and burst out in a loud laugh.
She didn’t hear the elevator doors and didn’t see John until he was standing in the doorway to the living room, watching her dance with a half-smile on his handsome face.
He wore a dark blue suit. His tie was loose, and he’d undone two of his shirt buttons. He wore socks but no shoes and his hair was mussed. She couldn’t guess how long he’d been standing there. She stopped dancing, crossed her arms over her chest, and blushed.
“Sorry, I love that song.”
“Don’t be sorry. I love it when you dance like that. I’m just disappointed you weren’t singing this time.” He leaned against the wall, his eyes sparkling. His gaze traveled down her, from head to toe. “You look beautiful,” he said.
Her face burned. “Thank you.”
“I’ll just grab a shower and get changed, and I’ll be with you soon.”
“Are we going somewhere?” she asked.
He shook his head with a grin. “Nope.” Then he left her standing there, arms still wrapped around her body, music blaring from a speaker on the kitchen counter.
Her eyebrows pulled low, and she flicked her blonde hair back over her shoulder, smoothing it into place. She’d gotten dressed up under the assumption they’d be going out. Since she hadn’t made them anything to eat, and he didn’t have take-out bags in his hands when he walked in, he must’ve ordered something.
She set the table while she waited. Then, pulled a bottle of wine from his collection stacked inside the spacious butler pantry and poured herself a glass. Then, poured him a glass, and sat sipping hers slowly, one leg crossed over the other and swinging in beat to the music.
Before long he emerged, freshly showered and smelling faintly of aftershave. Her heart thudded at the sight of him, hair wet combed back from his forehead, biceps bulging from tight shirt sleeves, and casual jeans hugging his thighs.
“I hope you’re hungry,” he said, as he strode into the kitchen.
She nodded and swallowed her mouthful of wine. “Starving…but what are we going to eat? Is the delivery coming soon?”
He laughed as he reached for a frying pan and set it on the stove top. “No. I’m cooking.”
Her eyes widened. “What? You’re cooking. Do you know how?”
He shook his head with mock indignation. “You constantly underestimate me.”
She wandered into the kitchen and handed him the glass of wine, then stood watching as he sliced up a handful of carrots. He took the glass with a nod of thanks and continued working.
“This is very new for me,” she said. “I’m not used to people cooking for me. I’m not exactly sure what to do with myself.”
He chuckled. “Well, you’re just going to have to get used to it, I guess.”
What did that mean?
She gulped another mouthful of wine. “Okay…” She wanted to tell him about the green card, but perhaps this wasn’t the time. He was going to a lot of trouble and even though it was good news, she had a sense he might not see it that way.
For her it meant choices. She didn’t need to stay married to him, she could move back to New York and follow her dream. Or, she could fly to Brisbane as she’d intended to do and continue helping Jamie with her restaurant. Choices. She sighed.
“Here, sit on the counter beside me and tell me about your day,” he said, moti
oning to the counter.
Her heart skipped a beat. What was going on?
She maneuvered herself up onto the counter, careful not to let her red evening dress slide too far up her thighs, or to let herself slip off the counter entirely: the dress was made of silk. It was one he’d bought her early in their marriage. She knew how much he loved her to wear it.
He glanced at her. “Did I tell you how beautiful you are?”
Her heart jittered in her chest. “Yes, you did.”
“I love that dress on you.”
“Thank you.” She was growing more confused with every passing moment. Had he fallen and hit his head, or was he fully aware that he’d done a complete one hundred eighty degree turn in his behavior?
When he pulled squab out of the refrigerator, she gasped.
“Squab? You’re making squab?”
He laughed. “Yes, I am.”
“And how did you even sneak it by me?”
“Ah, that would be Josie.”
Eve chuckled. “Of course. She was in on it with you the whole time. I saw her putting away groceries earlier, but I didn’t think to ask her about them. Wow. I’m suitably impressed.”
“Good.” He cupped her cheek with one strong hand for a brief moment, then turned to the task of basting the squab.
By the time the meal was done, her stomach was making gurgling sounds. She was starving. Everything smelled and looked delicious.
“This is amazing. I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this talent away all these months,” she said as she followed him into the dining room.
He wouldn’t let her help, carrying both plates himself. Then, jogged back to the kitchen for their wine glasses. Finally, he sat beside her and held up a glass in a toast.
“To us,” he said simply.
She smiled. “To us.”
They both drank and then she took her first bite of the meal. It was as delectable as it looked, and she relished each bite, eating slowly. They finished the meal with a slice of cheesecake from a local bakery.
