Sinful Temptation
Page 17
“Don’t say that!”
“—while my cheeks are still dewy and my hair is long and thick? Please!”
“Talia—”
“Have you ever seen someone vomit after chemotherapy, Tony? Ever seen the mouth sores or the radiation burns? Ever seen hair fall out in clumps?” Here she paused for another of those nasty laughs. “Although, to be fair, I don’t really have enough hair for it to fall out in clumps, but still—”
“What do you want me to say? No, I’ve never seen any of that, but I will. If that’s what we have to go through to build our life together, then, yeah—”
“Well, let’s talk about that for a minute.” She marched up to get in his face, her features wild and contorted. “Let’s say I do get through another round of treatment and we do get married.”
“Hallelujah.”
“What if the treatments make me infertile? What if I already am infertile? Did you ever think of that? How’re you going to get the babies you seem to want with a wife who can’t produce them?”
She didn’t really think that was a dilemma, did she?
The ridiculousness of the question made him snort. “If it’s a choice between life with you, however it goes, or life with some brood mare, then I’ll take you. What else have you got to throw at me?”
She checked herself in surprise. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you can’t seem to get rid of me fast enough. You were so worried about me walking out, but you don’t get a free pass. I don’t walk out on you, and you don’t walk out on me. Period. That’s the deal. So you’d better dial back that fear.”
Her brows snapped together with outrage or bravado—he couldn’t tell which—and she puffed up, reminding him of some creature on Animal Planet executing its most effective defensive maneuver.
“Don’t you dare.”
Calm washed over him, as though God had touched a finger to his head, and he knew, absolutely and irrevocably, that nothing would prevent him from being with this woman until the day one of them died.
He’d been afraid before, and he was afraid now.
But he would work through his fear. He had to.
“You’re the coward here, not me,” he said quietly. “You’re the hypocrite here, not me.”
These truths were too much for her. Tears that had been welling for the last several minutes began to fall, wetting her cheeks as she began to sob.
“I want you to leave! Get out of here! Leave me alone!”
Shaking his head, he stretched out on the couch, covered himself with the throw and stared her in the face. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”
“We’re a little early, I think,” Gloria said on Monday morning, keeping her firm grip on Talia’s elbow as she steered them off the elevator at the medical arts building and down the long hallway to the oncologist’s office. “I told you we had time to stop for coffee.”
Though she was so numb that just walking was like trying to run a marathon while under the effects of a sleeping pill, Talia tried to smile. Tried to engage. “You don’t need any more coffee. Your bladder’s going to explode.”
“Eh. You may be right.”
Take a step, Talia. Another step. And another.
“We’ll get through this, Tally.”
“I know. I’m glad you’re here. Thanks for—”
Gloria stopped cold. “If you thank me for coming with you, Talia Adams, I swear to God I’ll kill you myself.”
Uh-oh. Nothing like a death threat to make you change course.
“—finally telling me what happened with you and Cooper Davies when he took you home after the party. And don’t deny it. I know you. You’ve been acting funny.”
Predictably, Gloria clammed up, making a show of turning away and staring out the windows as they continued walking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said flatly.
“I’ll get it out of you eventually.”
A man stepped around the corner, blocking them.
Oh, God. It was Tony.
She hadn’t seen him since Saturday night. In one of her lowest moments, ever, she had walked out on him. Just grabbed her purse, leashed the dog and taken them both with her as she fled to Gloria’s apartment, where she stayed, ignoring his frequent calls and texts the entire weekend.
Now here he was. He looked terrible, with ringed eyes, a stubbled chin and wrinkled clothes. If she had any question about whether their brief separation had been as hard on him as it had been on her, here was the proof, in his haunted expression.
Her hand flew to her heart, which had stopped.
His hands, which were down by his sides, rose a little, in a supplicating gesture, as though his words weren’t working any better than hers were at the moment.
Please.
Shame hit her hard, because of course everything he’d said to her was right. About her hypocrisy? About her cowardice? True. All, sadly, true.
She’d been so afraid he’d reject her that she hadn’t given him a chance, and she was ashamed of herself.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
His breath hitched. “You should be. Come here.”
They came together, hard, and Talia held on to Tony, her anchor, for all she was worth. How on earth had she thought she could make it through this without his quiet strength backing her up?
Gloria slipped away, although Talia could hear her discreet sniffles.
She pulled back so she could see Tony’s face. “I love you. I should have told you before.”
He nodded, ducking his head as he swiped his eyes. “Yeah. You should’ve.”
“I’m scared,” she admitted.
“So am I.”
Some of the weight in her chest lifted. Thank God he gave her naked honesty and not some rah-rah speech about how they’d kick cancer’s ass. She couldn’t take that right now. He was right, of course. Some burdens needed to be shared.
“I have a quote,” she told him. “From Dr. King.”
Those dimples appeared in his cheeks. “Oh, yeah? I could use a quote right about now. Hit me.”
“He said, ‘We must build dikes of courage to hold back the flood of fear.’”
Tony nodded. “‘Dikes of courage.’ That works for me. I’ve got a big shovel and a strong back.”
“God, I love you.”
“I love you, too, baby,” he said, kissing her temple a last time.
“Well.” She worked up a smile that felt reasonably courageous. “Should we go? I don’t want to be late.”
“Not just yet.”
He reached inside his jeans pocket and produced something small.
Then he reached for her left hand.
Covering her mouth with her free right hand, trying not to erupt in tears, Talia watched as he slipped a ring on her finger. It was the brightest green emerald imaginable, surrounded by diamond baguettes.
When it was safely on her finger, Tony took her hand and, followed by Gloria, who was sniffling louder than ever now, led her into the doctor’s office.
“Now we’re ready.”
Epilogue
Twenty years later
As though he knew that repressed tears were about to make her nostrils flare and her chin tremble, Tony took her hand, lacing her fingers in his strong grip.
She squeezed back, grateful for the support.
They walked on, across the blazing green lawn of The Plain.
It was R-Day. Reception Day. Already. Where had the time gone?
The weather couldn’t have been more perfect, with its light breeze, clear blue sky and bright—but thankfully not hot—sunlight. The setting? Indescribably beautiful. The Hudson River, a sparkling gray today, stretched before them and those craggy hills surrounded it on either side. They’d visited some gorgeous colleges in the last year or so, yeah, but this one, as far as she was concerned, took the cake.
She sighed, feeling that sweet ache around her heart again.
Talia gave him a sidelong glance. This, naturally, made him grin with happiness that was both crazy and peaceful.
He had gray at his temples now, and interesting lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes and bracketing his mouth when he smiled. He was, in other words, handsomer and more intriguing than he’d been the day they met, and she loved him more every day. If someone had told her that this would be possible back when they’d gotten married, she’d have convulsed with laughter, but it was true.
“Congratulations, baby,” he told her, smoothing a strand of her windswept curls, which had grown back longer and more luxuriant than ever, out of her face.
“For what?” she asked, even though she knew. “Not killing the boy when he let his pet tarantula loose in the living room so it could stretch its legs?”
“No,” Tony said, unsmiling. “For hitting your twentieth anniversary today.”
The day’s poignancy snuck up on her again, choking her up a little, but she nodded. Twenty healthy, cancer-free years. With Tony. “God is good, isn’t he?”
Tony swiped at his eyes with his free hand. “God is good.”
Their joy bubbled over in mutual laughter, and they let it come.
Then she checked her watch and decided they’d better pick up their step.
“If you’re finished being mushy on me, we’d better get going. We don’t want to be late for the ceremony, do we?”
“Hell to the no,” he agreed. “Alexios would kick both our butts.”
Still laughing, their arms swinging between them, they headed for their seats to watch their eighteen-year-old son—who had his father’s eyes, and was tall and handsome in his white dress shirt and dark slacks—take the new cadet oath with his classmates at the United States Military Academy at West Point.
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ISBN: 9781459223264
Copyright © 2012 by Sally Young Moore
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