“Thank you.” She grinned. “I needed that more than you can imagine.” Evie hopped off the vanity and shuffled to the toilet.
Wrong.
I didn’t have to imagine how much she needed that because I needed it more.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“Has Lila started treatment?” I asked Graham as we enjoyed cold drinks in the clubhouse before teeing off. Evelyn and Lila stayed at the house to play by the pool with the kids.
He chewed a cube of ice, each crunch accentuating the tense muscles in his jaw as he stared out the window at the well-dressed elite in their golf carts cruising around the course. “She’s looking into options. I’m encouraging her to get more opinions.”
“How’s the alternative treatment working? I mean, she doesn’t seem too bad. Is she tired a lot?”
I was depressed most of the time, but I wasn’t exhausted. People with leukemia suffered severe exhaustion.
Graham bit his lips together, his eyes slightly narrowed at me. After several seconds of just … looking at me, he nodded slowly and hummed. “Yes, the alternative treatment seems to be helping, at least with the symptoms.”
“What kind of alternative treatment is she doing?”
He glanced at his watch. “We’re up.” He stood. “I’m feeling good today, buddy. Hope you brought your best game.”
Lila had cancer. I couldn’t give two fucks about a golf game.
After we made our way through eighteen holes, talking about random shit as if his wife wasn’t possibly dying, we made it back to the house in time for dinner.
“Mrs. Porter.” Graham kissed Lila’s head as we passed through the great room.
She looked up from her book and smiled at me. The rest of her body seemed to stiffen beneath Graham hovering over her.
“How was golfing?” She closed her book, letting it rest in her lap.
“Perfect. I should have joined the PGA instead of running for governor,” he mumbled, sauntering out of the room toward the bedroom. “I’m going to grab a quick shower. Feel free to join me.”
Lila’s cheeks turned pink as her smile faded into a grimace.
I averted my gaze to avoid making her feel any more uncomfortable. “Are Evie and the kids here or at the beach?”
“The bedroom.” Lila pushed the ottoman away and sat up straight, depositing the book on the table next to the Tiffany lamp. “The sun zapped the energy from the kids. They both fell asleep after she gave them a bath. I peeked in on them ten minutes ago. She’s asleep too.”
I jutted my chin toward the book. “What are you reading?”
She flipped it over to show me the cover.
“Paranormal?”
She nodded, wrinkling her nose. “Don’t judge me for loving vampires.”
I laughed. “No judgment. I went through a big vampire phase in my early twenties.”
“So before you devoured mystery novels, you were intrigued by blood and fangs?”
Pulling the ottoman out another foot or so, I sat on it facing her. “Before my near-death experience, I was obsessed with superheroes. Still am.” I smirked and that brought a fantastic grin to Lila’s face. “Then I became obsessed with all things paranormal. Now I don’t have to read about it because I swear I’m living it.”
Her smile left her face, replaced with knitted eyebrows and wrinkles etched into her forehead. “I’m not going to let my pain burden you.”
I felt her on too many levels for her to be able to say that to me with any certainty or true conviction. The elephant in the room squeezed between us, staring us both in the face until the awkwardness reached a suffocating level.
“About yesterday …”
“No.” Her head shook on repeat. “That was on me. I needed someone to embrace me without expecting something in return. And I didn’t let go because I let myself believe that you needed something from me too. Which is ridiculous because—”
“It’s …” I sighed, squeezing my eyes shut for a few seconds. “It’s not ridiculous, Lila. When we touched, I felt …”
Good?
How could I say that? That sounded creepy. Her best friend’s husband feeling good in the arms of a woman who wasn’t his wife.
How messed-up was that? Saying it aloud wasn’t going to make it sound any better.
“You felt what?” she whispered.
“Nothing.” I glanced up at her. Lila resembled Evie in so many ways, including the innocence in her blue eyes that screamed for the world to just be kind … just be fair. It shouldn’t have been me keeping her secret. It should have been Evie comforting her lifelong friend. “I felt no pain. I felt no connection to you. I felt normal. But I only felt that way because we were touching. When I released you the first time, that peace lingered for a little while. When I released you the second time, it lasted even longer.”
Lila hugged herself, shoulders turned inward.
“It’s okay.” I rested my hands on my knees, drumming my fingers. “You don’t have to believe me. If it weren’t happening to me, I sure wouldn’t believe me. And I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”
Her eyes glossed over into a blank stare, aimed in the vicinity of my shoulder. I stood, opting to stop talking before I said anymore. Lila didn’t need my problems. Turning toward the hallway, I took two steps and stopped. Lila’s hand rested on my shoulder with my back to her. My eyes closed …
The ringing stopped.
The sorrow melted.
The pain vanished.
I drew in a shaky breath as her arms snaked around my torso, her warm cheek against my back. It felt like God himself embracing me. The good God. Not the one who cursed me. My hands inched up to cover hers. Once again, we stood idle, giving in to the unexplainable, feeding an undefinable need. With each touch, we crossed a barrier into a world that didn’t feel real because Evie and our kids were my life, the only reality I ever wanted. Yet, touching Lila felt right and good.
Not painkiller good.
Not sexually good.
Not even Evie good.
Touching Lila felt good like my legs carrying my body, my heart circulating blood, my lungs claiming air. When we touched, I didn’t feel her. I felt me.
Only me.
Truth? I wanted Lila to give me back what she took or take back what she gave me. I didn’t know. I just knew that something fit when we touched.
It’s wrong.
I knew it was at the very least, a little wrong, yet I didn’t want her to let me go. The longer she held me, the longer I would feel normal for Evie and the kids.
“Lila?” Graham called.
Without a word or glance at each other, Lila released me and I walked toward the bedroom.
“Yes?” Her voice echoed as she padded down the hallway in the opposite direction toward their bedroom.
“Did you move my hair gel?”
She replied with a barely audible, “No.”
The kids were on the king bed, still sleeping in spite of Evie running the hairdryer in the bathroom. I slid open the paneled door, glancing over my shoulder to see if the kids stirred.
They didn’t.
My beautiful wife shot me a sideways glance and a blinding smile to go with it. “I fell asleep with a wet head,” she said while turning off the blow-dryer.