“So what?” Roger asked. “Anyone who was raised in a broken home is cursed to have a failed marriage?”
“Of course not. But statistics don’t lie. There is a higher probability that a child raised in a split family will as an adult have marital problems, as well.”
Was that Will’s problem? Had his parents’ dysfunctional relationship warped him somehow?
“Sounds like a major cop-out,” Roger said. “Blaming our parents for our own mistakes. Where’s the accountability?”
“Of course we can’t blame everything on our parents. But family relationships, as well as outside influences, can have a lasting effect on a child’s psychological development. And of course the opposite is true, as well. Children from happy families might also end up the victims of divorce.”
“So basically what you’re saying is we’re all screwed,” Jade said.
Eve smiled. “All I’m saying is that there is no one cause or reason that people behave the way they do. But by being here and talking things through, maybe we’ll begin to recognize what it is that has gone wrong in our own relationships and learn what to do to change that behavior.” She looked at her watch. “Time to wrap it up people. I’ll see you all Monday morning.”
For the first time since starting therapy Monday he was sorry it was over. And for the first time he had something to say, had questions.
Could it really be that simple? His marriages hadn’t worked because he hadn’t seen his wives as friends? Hadn’t respected them? He could see now that his marriages had been about toleration. About sticking it out until they drove him so completely out of his mind with frustration he’d had no choice but to leave.
“Are you okay, Will?”
He looked up and saw that Eve was standing by the door and the rest of the group had left already.
“I just…” He shook his head. “It’s just something you said.”
She walked back over. “Something that upset you?”
“Sort of, I guess.”
“It’s okay to talk about it, Will. That’s why I’m here.”
He looked up at the clock. “It’s time for lunch—”
“We can be a little late.” She sat down across from him. “Tell me what’s bothering you.”
“I kind of feel like…like someone punched me in the head.”
Eve smiled. “Why is that?”
“It’s just that whole thing about a husband and wife being friends. It makes sense. I guess I just never thought about it. Now I’m wondering why. Why didn’t I see it before?”
“Your parents weren’t friends?”
“Hell, no. I don’t think they even liked each other. Looking back, I’m not sure I liked my wives much, either. Maybe at first, but later…” He shrugged. “Later I just felt suffocated. That sounds awful, doesn’t it?”
Eve leaned forward, hands clasped. “You mentioned your wives were clingy. Something about that trait must have attracted you to them.”
“I suppose at first the attention was okay.”
“They made you feel special?”
He nodded. “You could say that.”
“Did your parents make you feel special?”
He lifted an eyebrow at her. “We’re back to blaming my parents?”
“Humor me.”
He sighed and sat back, giving it some thought. “No, I guess they didn’t make me feel special.”
“Did you feel loved?”
“Not particularly.”
“Think about that for a minute. How did that differ from the way you felt with your wives?”
He thought about it and he actually had a pretty good idea of what she was suggesting. And even more, it kind of made sense. Maybe there was something to this therapy stuff. “What you’re saying is I was attracted to them even though they were overbearing and clingy because they filled some sort of emotional hole left by my parents.”
“You felt needed. Everyone likes to feel needed.”
“But they got so demanding and dependent, eventually I just felt smothered.”
“And maybe you resented them for not being stronger?”
“I did. It used to drive me crazy that they couldn’t seem to make a move without consulting me first. I hated it.”
“But they weren’t the ones who changed.”
“No,” he agreed. “It was me. I’m the one who changed.”
“Well,” Eve said, rising to her feet. “I’ve given you plenty to think about. I’ll see you Monday morning.”
“Yeah. See you Monday.”
So he’d been right all along. He was the one who’d screwed up his marriages. He was the one with the hang-ups.
But what good was that knowledge if he didn’t know how to use it? And how could it stop him from making the same mistake again?
Abi watched Will from the opposite side of the bonfire. Something was definitely up with him. It was rare to see him without a smile on his face, not engaged in conversation. Tonight he kept to himself and he looked…troubled.
He glanced up at her and grinned—and yes, caught her staring again—and she got that giddy, excited sensation in her stomach.
A smile like that from a man had never stirred these schoolgirl-crush feelings. Years ago, after her mother had left her, it used to mean a place to sleep for a night or a week. A nice meal out instead of cheap fast food or a sandwich at the shelter. Later, when she’d realized the full extent of her effect on the opposite sex and how to use it, it might have meant a gold necklace or a diamond bracelet she could later hock when the goodwill and interest dried up.
Now she resented her mother more than ever for not teaching her how wrong that was. She hated her for showing Abi that cheating and lying and using were just ways to get by.
But that was in the past. She was a different person now. She only hoped that when the truth came out, when she told Will what she used to be like, it wouldn’t change the way he felt about her. Even if she wasn’t sure exactly how he felt now.
One by one the guests and staff went back to their cabins. Only a few stragglers remained when Will finally sat on the log beside her, stretching those long, lean legs in front of him. His forearm brushed hers and little shocks of awareness zapped through her. Maybe it was due to the fact that they had been avoiding each other the past couple of days, trying to keep up the illusion that they weren’t becoming inappropriately involved.
She tried to look casual, keeping her eyes fixed on the smoldering logs, watching spirals of smoke drifting up into the star-filled sky.
Eric walked up to them, hands in his pockets.
“Do you need anything else, Abi?”
Abi smiled up at him. “I don’t think so, Eric. Thank you for all your help tonight.”
“Sure.” Eric shot Will a curious, almost suspicious look and hesitated, as if he wasn’t sure if he should leave the two of them alone.
“You can head back to your cabin now,” she told him.
He hesitated a second more, then ambled off into the darkness, toward the visitor cabins.
The last two guests called good-night and headed off, as well, leaving her and Will alone.
For several minutes they sat there quietly watching the remnants of the fire pop and crackle and burn themselves out. They weren’t doing anything improper, but she couldn’t help feeling the slightest bit naughty.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
He looked over at her and smiled. “It is now.”
A wash of warm tingles swept over her again. What was it about being with Will that made her feel so good?
A cool breeze rolled across the lake, and she rubbed her bare arms.
“It’s getting cold,” Will said. “And late. Can I walk you back your cabin?”
“I’d like that.”
He stood and held out a hand to give her a boost up. It was such a casual gesture, she didn’t think twice about taking it. His hand was warm and a little rough as it curled aroun
d her own, and suddenly she wasn’t cold anymore. That excited feeling in her stomach began to corkscrew slowly outward.
Instead of letting go, Will laced his fingers through hers. She considered pulling away, but it looked as though everyone had either retired for the night or, considering the level of noise, gone to the bar or games room in the main building. No one would see them, so what harm could it cause?
By the light of the stars she let Will lead her in the direction of the staff cabins. She used to think it was so quiet here compared to the noisy chaos of the cities she’d grown up in. But that was only because she hadn’t been listening. All around them a symphony of sounds filled the night air. The calming lap of the water over the sand. The melodic chirp of crickets hiding in the forest floor. The hum of the wind and the rustle of leaves that lay in its path.
Now that she’d made a home surrounding herself with nature, there was no going back. She could never live in the city again.
They followed the path leading into the woods under a dense canopy of foliage, blackness folding over them like a cool velvet shroud. Up ahead she could see the dim glow of her porch light.
Home.
She’d never really had one before. She’d lived places—if you could call the way she used to exist living—but this cabin among the trees was where she’d felt at peace for the first time in her life.
Somewhere off to the left of where they walked Abi heard the crunch of a twig snapping, and Will’s grip on her hand tightened.
“It’s probably just a stray animal,” she said. “We get a lot of raccoons at night.”
“It doesn’t bother you?” he asked. “Being so isolated? So far from civilization?”
“Not at all.” From the isolation she drew a deep sense of security she’d never once felt in the city. “You live in the city?”
“Manhattan for the past couple of years. When I was married, I had a place in Jersey. I don’t miss the commute.”
“You like it there?”
“I like the convenience of being able to walk around the corner for a six-pack. I don’t plan to stay there forever, though. It would be a nice change to be out of the city, away from the suburbs. Maybe after I retire.”
They neared her cabin and their pace slowed, as if neither wanted the evening to end. They’d pretty much waited all day for this time together. She wanted it to last.
“What will you do then?”
“When I retire?” he asked and she nodded. He paused for a moment, then laughed lightly. “It’s probably going to sound ridiculous….”
“Tell me.”
“I want to be a writer.”
“Why would I think that’s ridiculous?”
“A lot of people would.”
“That’s only because they don’t know you.”
He looked down at her through the dark. “And you do?”
“I know that you’re not the kind of man to give up. Or the kind not to do something because someone told you not to or thought you shouldn’t.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “You know, you’re the first person I ever told that to.”
“You didn’t even tell your wives?”
“Nope.”
“How come?”
He shrugged, tugging lightly on her arm. “I guess because they never asked.”
He sounded so…sad.
“What’s wrong, Will?”
He shrugged again. “I’ve just had things on my mind.”
“Anything you want to talk about?”
“Not really. I don’t mean to be emotionally distant. It’s just something I need to figure out on my own.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Emotionally distant?”
He laughed. “Hey, you’re the one who talked me into the therapy. Now you have to deal with my psychobabble.”
“It’s good to know you’ve been paying attention. Maybe you don’t think it was such a waste after all?”
“You know I don’t like admitting I’m wrong, but in this case, you were right. The therapy has been…enlightening.”
That made her happier than she’d expected it to. She’d done what she had set out to do—she’d helped him. She couldn’t ask for more than that.
But she wanted more, she realized. She just wasn’t sure what.
“I’m glad to hear that. Just so you know, I’m always here if you need to talk.”
He gave her hand another squeeze and asked, “What about you? Do you always want to be a counselor?”
“When Adam is in school I’d like to go to college. I’ll have to go part-time, probably nights, meaning I’ll be at least forty by the time I get a degree. But it’s something I’ve always wanted to do.”
“Why is that?”
“To prove to myself that I can. My mother bailed when I was seventeen and I had to support myself, so I didn’t finish high school. I never had much in the way of skills.” Not the marketable kind anyway.
They stopped a few yards from the door, far enough away from the light, so that anyone looking would see only shadowy forms. “Thank you for walking me home. I’d invite you in, but Brit is here. I know what she would think.”
Through the dark she could see that lopsided smile.
“It’s late. I understand.”
She wished she could ask him in. She wished they could sit and talk for hours. Maybe because when she talked, he really listened. She’d never had deep, meaningful conversations with men. The kind of men she’d dated hadn’t been interested in conversation. They’d wanted arm dressing and a good time in bed. They used to treat her as if she had an empty skull under all her teased hair, when nothing could be further from the truth. And she’d used that misconception to her advantage, to get what she wanted.
If she’d had a different upbringing, the right opportunities, she might have gone far. She still could, she told herself.
“I guess I’ll see you around tomorrow?” he said. “Maybe we could have lunch together.”
“Tomorrow is my day off. Sometimes I leave the retreat.”
“Okay then, Monday morning for a hike?”
She heard disappointment in his voice and couldn’t deny feeling the same emotion. She wished they could have spent more time together this evening, but it was so late. And Monday was an entire day away.
Did she really want to wait until then to see him again?
“What are you doing tomorrow?” she heard herself ask.
“Golf maybe. I hadn’t made any definite plans,” Will said. “Why do you ask?”
“I planned on taking Adam into town. I promised him. If you aren’t busy, I thought maybe, if you wanted to—”
“That sounds like fun,” he said.
“I mean, we don’t do anything special. We just look at the shops and get ice cream and there’s a park where we sometimes stop and have a picnic—”
“I said yes, Abi. I’d love to spend the day with you and Adam.” He reached up to cup her cheek with his free hand. “As long as you’re not worried about people seeing us together.”
It was so difficult to think straight when he touched her that way. She wondered if he knew it. “I suppose it’s possible we could run into someone there. But we wouldn’t be doing anything wrong. Right?”
“Of course not.” His fingers slipped over her skin, and that warm place in her belly began to simmer again. Then he slowly lowered his head.
He was going to kiss her right there in front of her cabin.
Instead of pulling away, her breath caught and her eyes drifted closed. She felt the heat of his breath on her face, caught the scent of smoke from the bonfire on his skin. Her knees felt weak and her head a little dizzy.
She knew it was wrong to do this, but she wanted it anyway.
Her lips tingled and her heart pulsed in her chest. She lifted her chin, anticipating the feel of his mouth against hers. Instead he brushed a kiss very lightly against her cheek.
She ne
arly groaned with disappointment. After anticipating a kiss, yearning for it, she wanted to feel it.
His lips lingered for several seconds and then he slowly backed away. Acting on pure instinct, she wrapped her hand around the nape of his neck, pulled him down and pressed her lips to his.
There was a second of surprise, of hesitation, before his body relaxed and he leaned into the kiss. He teased her lips with his tongue, coaxing her to open up. His mouth was soft and warm and persuasive. She’d kissed a lot of men, but she didn’t think she’d ever met anyone who did it quite this well.
And a kiss wasn’t enough this time. She wanted more. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted, only that she ached for it. For some sort of…connection.
She pulled her hand loose from his and wound her arms around his shoulders. Her breasts crushed against his chest, tingling as they pulled into tight, aching points. Their thighs brushed, knees bumped. Bare skin touched bare skin. The sensation was so unexpected, so erotic, her insides melted into liquid heat.
This is what it’s supposed to feel like, she realized. This was real passion. This was lust.
A spark of something bigger, something deeper, ignited her blood. How could she have gone her whole life and never experienced this? This absolute connection with the opposite sex?
Because sex hadn’t been about connection. It had been about control and manipulation—survival.
She felt herself moving, felt him easing her backward, until she collided with the unrelenting surface of a tree. Through her shirt she felt the rough bark cut into her skin, but instead of discomfort she felt excitement. She was pinned in place, trapped by the weight of his body, but she didn’t feel confined or afraid, she felt…liberated. She wanted to be taken, possessed. She wanted to know what it felt like to let go, to be out of control.
Her hands wandered across the width of his shoulders, down the lean muscle of his chest, curling into fists around the fabric of his T-shirt. Will groaned and his arms tightened around her, pulling her more firmly against him. His hands were in her hair, on her face, touching, exploring.
The kiss became more urgent, and she felt herself sinking deeper, spinning out of control. So carried away she nearly forgot where they were.
Out of Sight Page 11
