by Noelle Adams
“What’s wrong?” he demanded, reaching out toward her in concern. “Are you sick?”
She shook her head and hugged her arms to her stomach. “No. I’m fine.” She improvised as well as she could. “I just started to feel dizzy in that position with the car moving. Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” His brows had drawn together. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah.” She tried to smile at him.
She didn’t feel like smiling. Her world was crashing down around her head, the way it had four years ago when she’d told Baron she loved him and he hadn’t said it back.
She wasn’t going to go through that again. And this would be so much worse.
She’d never known, understood, needed, wanted, cared for Baron the way she did for Luke.
She’d been so sure she was safe from this, but she’d landed in the same mess again.
She had to breathe. Had to think. Had to get away.
Fortunately, the car pulled up to their building before Luke could interrogate her further. He climbed out first and then helped her out. When her legs felt weak, he put an arm around her.
She couldn’t pull away immediately, even though she told herself she should.
She’d always shared her feelings in the past, whenever they seemed real and clear, but she was paralyzed by this.
If she scared Luke off by her confession, she would lose everything.
“Baby,” he said, his mouth close to her ear, “Are you sure you’re all right?”
Molly felt like a bedraggled Cinderella, returning at the end of the night to find her sparkling world had turned back into a pumpkin and a bunch of rodents. “Yeah,” she lied, smiling at him again. “Thanks.”
The doorman straightened as they entered. “Good evening, Mr. Lyons. Mrs. Lyons, you have a guest.”
Molly blinked and turned in the direction the doorman indicated.
She felt Luke tense up beside her before she processed who was waiting.
What the hell was Baron doing here?
Ten
Baron James leaned against the wall on the far side of the lobby, coolly working on his smartphone. He straightened up when he saw her and smiled, the same smile that had melted her heart only a few years ago.
“What are you doing here?” she asked as he came over.
“Sorry for the abrupt appearance. I was hoping we could talk.” He’d been speaking to her, but now he nodded at Luke. “Lyons.”
“Right now?” Molly asked.
Luke frowned, his eyes very cool. “It’s late. Couldn’t it wait until the morning?”
“It can if it has to,” Baron replied. “But I only need five minutes, if you can spare them, Molly.”
His look and his words clearly indicated that he wanted to speak only to her. She sighed tiredly and glanced up at her husband. “You go on up. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
Luke didn’t look at all happy, but he walked to the elevator without objection.
Molly went to sit down in one of the lobby chairs and waited as Baron took the one next to her.
“I was hoping for a little more privacy than this,” he said with a quirk of his mouth.
“It’s this or nothing. I’m too tired to go out again, and Luke will never let you upstairs at this hour. What did you want?”
He cleared his throat. “I’ve been thinking a lot. About you. About us. And I’ve come to some conclusions. You don’t have to make a decision anytime soon, but I’d like for you to start thinking about whether there’s any possibility of us getting together again.”
Her mouth dropped open. “What?”
He reached out and took one of her hands. “Molly, I want you back.”
She could hardly make herself move, much less think. “What?”
“I think you heard me.”
She jerked her hand out of his grip and wrapped it in the safety of her other hand. She felt Luke’s rings under her fingers.
Suddenly, she was angry. At everyone and everything. “I’m married. This is incredibly inappropriate.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” His voice sounded uncharacteristically strained. “I know you’re married. I know this is inappropriate. I just don’t know what else to do.”
Since he sounded far less smooth and confident than she’d ever heard him before, her bristling eased slightly. Instead, she felt kind of sick. “I don’t know what’s happening here, Baron.”
“I know you don’t. I’m sorry to spring this on you. It’s just that, if I didn’t jump right in, I might not ever have done it.”
“I’m married,” she said again, thinking about Luke going upstairs in his tux—drained, wary, and exhausted.
“I know. That’s why I’m not going to make a move on you.”
“What do you call this?”
He sighed. “This is a confession. Not a move. If, by any chance, you think we can try again, I wouldn’t make a move until you were divorced.”
“It sounds like splitting hairs to me.”
“Maybe it is.” He rubbed his face with his hand. “I just don’t know what else to do.”
She sat in silence, trying to get her breath, trying to make her mind work at its normal speed.
Baron was telling the truth. She could tell. He might be a bad boy, but he’d always had boundaries. As far as she knew, he’d never fucked a married woman.
“Can I explain?” he asked after a minute.
She nodded and clasped her hands more tightly together.
“Maybe this is a mistake. But I’ve been brooding about it since I saw you in New York, and I wasn’t going to be able to move on if I didn’t just say something.” He took a breath before he continued. “I was an ass with you back then. Even if we’d agreed to sex with no strings attached, I still should have treated you better. I should have known it would never work for so long.”
She shrugged. “Maybe. But I made mistakes too. I’m over it.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m not. I still think about you. I still want you.”
“You really think I should give up on my marriage for meaningless sex with you?”
“No. That’s not what I’m suggesting.” He leaned forward, his brown eyes strangely mesmerizing. “It wouldn’t be meaningless. It wouldn’t have to be. I would be all in.”
Her mouth was painfully dry. She could barely swallow. “All in?”
“All in.”
It was a dream come true to her self four years ago, but her self tonight just felt incredibly sad. Her eyes burned and she looked up at the ceiling, as if she could see Luke through twenty-four floors.
“You just don’t like to see me with someone else,” she said at last, the clarity coming slow but razor sharp. “It bothered you, in New York, seeing me with Luke. You’re being territorial. You could never really love me.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“Maybe you want to. Maybe you want to find something real with someone at last. But it’s never going to be with me. I’m sorry if that hurts you.”
She wasn’t angry with him anymore, and she didn’t like to cause anyone pain. She’d loved him once, and he still meant something to her.
He didn’t react, except to lower his head momentarily. After a long pause, he sounded natural when he said, “I’ll understand if that’s your final answer, but think about it anyway.”
“Baron, I’m married. How many times do I have to say it?”
He arched his eyebrows. “Are you really going to tell me you married Lyons because you loved him?”
She looked away. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t tell him that lie.
“I’m not trying to be an ass. I just think you deserve more than this half-marriage you’re in can ever give you.”
His tone was gentle, but the words slammed into her anyway.
They were true.
They were incredibly, appallingly true.
She stood up abruptly. If she didn’t get away now, she was goi
ng to burst into tears right in front of him.
He seemed to understand this was a dismissal. He stood up too. “I’m at the Ritz-Carlton tonight. Sleep on it. If you change your mind tomorrow, let me know.”
She gave him a jerky nod and accepted the chaste kiss he gave her on the cheek.
Then finally he left and she could stumble toward the elevator and go home.
Home. It had been Luke’s home before it became hers.
She’d vaguely hoped he’d just gone to bed, but when she walked through the entry hall, she found him sitting in a chair in the living room, waiting for her.
It would be rude, she supposed, to keep walking to her room, to her bed.
He’d probably just follow her, anyway.
She sat down in the chair across from him and slipped off her heels. She stretched her aching feet.
“He wants you back?”
Molly blinked. “How did you know?”
His mouth twisted and he looked away. He must be really angry.
“How did you know?” she repeated.
“Just a guess. I knew he’d want you back eventually.”
“How did you know that?”
“Men like James always do.”
She didn’t know what that meant, and she didn’t have the emotional energy to figure it out. She just couldn’t understand how Luke could look so controlled—so matter-of-fact—when it felt like her world was falling apart.
Baron had been right. She needed more than this marriage could offer her.
She needed to love and be loved.
And Luke couldn’t give her that.
“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” she choked out, the words almost sticking in her throat.
He grew very still, but he didn’t look surprised. His eyes still revealed nothing. “You can't do what? Talk to me about this?”
She shook her head. “I can’t do any of it.”
“You mean the marriage itself?” His voice was as even and controlled as if he were negotiating a business contract.
That was what their marriage had always been for him.
He cared about her—she knew that much at least—but he would never care about her enough.
“Yeah.” Her throat felt like it had swollen up four times its size, and she could barely breathe through it.
Luke didn’t react, except to clench one fist on the armrest. “So you’re going back to James?”
A couple of tears slipped out of her eyes despite her best efforts. “What does it matter?”
“You don’t think I deserve to know why my wife is leaving me?”
Of course, he deserved to know, but she wasn’t strong enough to tell him.
As much as she wanted him to, he would never love her back.
“Our contract,” she began, wiping the tears away impatiently. “Our contract says that either of us can end the marriage at any time, without any justification or explanation.”
“I understand that, and, if you’re going back to James, then I won’t stand in the way. But if there’s some other reason you’re unhappy, I can’t address it unless you tell me.”
She hated his tone—that business-like tone he used, as if her heart were nothing more than an item on his agenda to check off. She couldn’t stand to look at him, afraid she’d see that same cool neutrality in his expression.
“I thought we were…” He cleared his throat and started again. “I hadn’t realized you were unhappy before.”
She wiped away more tears and took a shuddering breath. “I wasn’t.”
“Then—”
“What we have is good. I…I really appreciate it.”
“But?”
“It’s not enough.”
It was as close as she could come to sharing her feelings, and she wasn’t sure she’d really made herself clear. But it hurt too much. She couldn’t strip her soul naked and let him stomp all over it with his well-shod feet.
Not that he’d want to hurt her. Baron hadn’t wanted to either.
That was just what happened, when you loved someone who didn’t love you back.
“I see,” he said.
His voice sounded different so she looked up. His expression was utterly blank, and he wasn’t even looking in her direction. But he inclined his head slightly, as if in agreement. “I’ll talk to the lawyers tomorrow.”
It was the most awful thing he’d ever said to her, and he’d said it as if he were arranging a board meeting.
She just nodded her head. “Thank you.”
He stood up then and paused, looking down on her as if he would say something.
“What is it?”
He shook his head. “I’m going to the office.”
“At this time of night? Luke, you can’t. It’s too late.” He was already worn to the bone. Even if they only had one more night of being married, she couldn’t stand the thought of his not getting the sleep he needed.
“I had a couple of messages. Some things came up I need to take care of. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Yeah.” She watched as he picked up his keys and case and walked out the door of their apartment.
He hadn’t even changed out of his tux.
She felt strangely empty, all the feeling drained out of her. In a way, it was a relief. If she couldn’t feel, she couldn’t hurt.
She went to her room and stood next to the dresser. Her face in the mirror was dead white. She started to take off her antique necklace in front of the mirror. Her hands shook on the clasp as she stared at the ruby and diamond pendant.
She’d just lost Luke.
Real or not, he was her husband. He was her lover. He was her best friend. He was all she had of a family.
A jerky shudder ran through her body, and her features crumpled as she stared in the mirror, still trying to unclasp her necklace.
She couldn’t do it. She started to cry. Then she couldn’t stop herself. After a minute, she was sobbing so hard she sank to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest.
She’d been so happy earlier this evening, getting ready for the gala in her pretty outfit. Luke had been running late.
Then everything had fallen apart.
She cried until her eyes and throat ached. Then she managed to get to the bathroom to splash water on her face and pee. She started to take her clothes off but couldn’t find the energy or coordination.
She just curled up in bed and cried until she couldn’t stay awake any more.
Eleven
The next morning, it felt like she had the worst hangover she’d ever experienced. She fell out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, cupping water from the sink in her hands—first to swallow it and then to wash her face.
She still wore her outfit from last night—very wrinkled now and no longer fresh—but she needed coffee to clear her head before she did something as ambitious as take a shower or change clothes.
As she walked to the kitchen, she paused at the door of Luke’s bedroom.
She pushed it in and looked at his made bed and immaculate room.
He obviously hadn’t slept here last night.
Maybe he was still trying to work, even this late in the morning.
Maybe he’d slept on the couch in his office.
Maybe he’d rung for a call girl.
Maybe he’d gone to a bar and found a random woman to fuck.
She wandered into his room and somehow ended up in his walk-in closet. She stared at the neat row of perfectly tailored business suits and dress shirts.
One of the shirts was of a slate green that matched his eyes. She’d always liked when he wore it. She pulled it off the hanger and took it with her as she went back to the kitchen to get her coffee.
She carried her mug and the shirt back into her room. She would need to move out. She couldn’t live here anymore.
She pulled out a suitcase from her closet and hefted it onto the bed. She stared down at how empty it was.
She had to pack enough f
or a few days. Maybe Erica would let her stay until she could find a place of her own.
She didn’t want to pack. She didn’t want to move.
She wanted Luke.
Lifting the shirt to her face, she breathed in the fragrance. It smelled like Luke did in the mornings, after he’s showered and dressed.
She wouldn’t be able to smell him like that anymore.
She’d thought she was numb, but somehow that realization sliced through the stupor.
In a little while, Luke would come back to an empty apartment. And everything would change for him too.
She suddenly realized that, no matter what happened with Baron, she had to say goodbye to Luke. For real.
She went to her nightstand to pull out a notebook and she tore out a couple of pages. Then she sank to the floor and used the notebook to brace the paper as she wrote.
She wrote that she was sorry, that she hadn’t meant to mess everything up between them, that she’d tried to keep the emotional distance she was supposed to, that she hadn’t intended to fall in love with him but that she couldn’t stay now that she had, that she would miss him, that she hoped he wouldn’t work too hard.
The sobs rose up in her throat again as she wrote, the way they had last night. She gripped the shirt in one hand and wrote messily with the other.
She didn’t hear the apartment door open, so she had no preparation.
“Molly?”
Luke’s voice calling from the living room. There was no way she wouldn’t know it.
“Molly? Are you home?”
She couldn’t answer, couldn’t even move.
He found her on the floor when he strode into the room. His posture and expression changed when he processed her position and tear-smeared face. “Molly,” Luke said, his voice altered. “Are you all right?”
She almost choked on the irony. “Do I look all right?” She tried to work up some anger, or at least some control, but she just couldn’t manage it. Because the sight of Luke—handsome, exhausted, confused, somehow burdened, and still wearing his tuxedo with his bow tie untied around his collar—reminded her of everything she was about to lose.
Another sob ripped through her, and she just couldn’t suppress it. She raised the shirt to hide her face and wept into it.
