Second Honeymoon. Laura Abbot

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ number. Scott ushered her onto the floor and took her in his arms. He danced just as he did everything else—smoothly. He held her close, seemingly preoccupied. “How do you think it’s going?” he asked, nodding in the direction of the table.

      “I have no idea. I’m doing my part, though.”

      “You always do.” He whirled her around, then leaned closer. “I appreciate it. You’re a great asset.”

      Wonderful. Just the sweet nothing every woman hopes to hear. Didn’t he understand she wanted to be his beloved, his everything? Not a business asset. Not just his housekeeper and the mother of his children. She ground her teeth in frustration. She ached for love and affirmation, knowing it was asking too much to expect romance. She longed to feel like an interesting, desirable woman again.

      She stared, unseeing, over his shoulder at the kaleidoscope of moving colors. Twenty years. Simultaneously, it seemed like forever and a mere blip on the radar screen of her life.

      When Scott nuzzled her cheek with his chin, she could hardly hold back the tears. She used to feel special in his arms, used to snuggle closer, teasing him with the pressure of her breasts against his chest. Suddenly, he dropped his hands and moved past her. “Lloyd, you son of a gun, good to see you,” he said, and he was off, schmoozing with a former client. Almost as an afterthought he turned to her and, encircling her waist, included her in the conversation.

      Meg surreptitiously consulted the diamond watch Scott had given her last Christmas, a gift that had felt more like a payoff than a sentimental gesture. Another hour and a half to go. Somehow she would survive. But when they got home, it was time for a serious talk.

      SCOTT ROLLED UP the sleeves of his dress shirt, fixed himself a brandy, then sat down in the family room, like the proverbial condemned prisoner awaiting his executioner. Meg had gone upstairs to change and check on the kids. On the way home from the country club she’d uttered the words no husband welcomed: We need to talk. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. Why now, for God’s sake? He was on the brink of exhaustion.

      After midnight there was no one to interrupt them, no phone call to distract her, no reason for him to hurry back to the office. Reluctantly, he acknowledged that they needed to settle some things. They couldn’t live in limbo indefinitely. Yet he couldn’t ignore the fear in the pit of his stomach.

      He braced himself when Meg came into the room, her feet bare, her thin nightgown covered by an old chenille bathrobe she’d had since she was pregnant with Hayley. Her security blanket?

      He lifted his glass. “Can I get you something?”

      She shook her head, then took a seat in the big armchair, tucking her feet under her. She wrapped her arms around her chest and peered around the room as if seeing it for the first time. Or the last. His heart plummeted.

      That was exactly where they were in their relationship. “So?” he finally said. “Talk.”

      “What are we going to do? I don’t know about you, but I can’t go on like this, just coexisting in the same house. Wearing a phony smile in public.”

      “Are you that unhappy?”

      She glanced up. “Aren’t you?”

      He thought about her question. About his feelings of entrapment and the weight of overwhelming expectations. “What happened to us?”

      She shrugged. “We’ve been over everything more times than I care to count. Is there any point in rehashing it?”

      “Do you want us to go back to Dr. Jacobs?” Scott knew he was clutching at straws. The marriage counselor had identified some of their problems, but had been of little real help. Whose fault that was, Scott didn’t want to think about. “Or find someone else?”

      “We’re far beyond that.”

      “Then what do you suggest?”

      Her eyes held sadness. “A trial separation.”

      Before, he’d always sensed that their discussions about separating had been rhetorical. The brandy warming his stomach turned to acid. “You’re serious?”

      “I need some space.”

      She needed space? Terrific.

      “I’d hate to move the kids. Maybe you could rent an apartment.”

      So he was supposed to pack his things and go merrily off into the night? Anger radiated through his body. Why him? Why not her? Oh, right, moving out was what spurned husbands did. One last measure of gallantry. He stood up and paced to the hearth, then turned to face her. “You expect me to make other living arrangements, just like that? And what are you proposing we tell the kids?”

      “What we’ve already talked about. That we need some time to step back and figure out where we’re going.” She lifted her chin. “You don’t imagine they’re oblivious to the tension between us, do you?”

      “No.” His gut curled in on itself. “When?”

      “As soon as your parents leave.”

      He groaned. He’d all but forgotten their upcoming visit, meant to coincide with his and Meg’s twentieth anniversary the very next weekend. Tulsa was one of his parents’ first stops on what they were calling their “big adventure.” They’d sold their house in Nashville and bought a huge motor home and were embarking on a two-year odyssey across the country.

      “Are you suggesting we put on the happy-family front while they’re here?” He knew his parents better than that. They’d spot the act from a hundred feet away. His mother, who had been cool to Meg early in their relationship, might even utter the dreaded words I told you so.

      “We could try. At least until we talk with the kids. Then I guess we’ll need to tell your folks, too.”

      Scott felt his control slipping. This conversation bordered on the surreal. “Why not cut to the chase? Do you want a divorce?”

      Her cheeks reddened and she ducked her head. “I don’t know.”

      Scott waved his hands helplessly. “Hell, Meg, I don’t think you have a clue what you want. But I’ll tell you one thing. I can’t handle any more stress in my life. One way or the other, we need to decide this, once and for all. I’m not interested in putting the kids through any more suffering than necessary.”

      She frowned at him. “You think I am?”

      Weariness overwhelmed him. “I’m tired of arguing. I’m tired of accusations. This hasn’t been a marriage for quite a while.”

      “No, it’s been a business arrangement.”

      He couldn’t help raising his voice. “That’s not fair.”

      “Isn’t it?”

      He felt them moving perilously close to words they might regret. “Okay. You win.” He slumped back on the sofa. “After Mom and Pops leave, I’ll find an apartment.”

      “Fine.” She gathered her robe around her. “We can work out the details later. Right now, I’m going to bed.” She started toward their СКАЧАТЬ