I needed the darkness, a minute just to myself because what was happening inside me wasn’t normal.
Not with the amount of guilt I was bearing from what I was doing to both of these men.
When my palm finally dropped to my lap, I stared at my best friend again, and in the softest voice, she said, “Babe, I love you, but you have to tell me how you see this ending.”
I glanced away as an image of Lance came into my head. It was of us kissing before I’d gotten out of the SUV tonight and another one of us making love in the shower just a few hours ago.
I thought of Oliver, the texts we’d exchanged today, the way he had taken my body the morning of my flight.
I stared back into her eyes, giving her as much of my truth as I could. “I don’t know, but when I figure it out, I promise, you will know.” I reached forward, putting my hand on her arm. “Can you accept that for now? Because, Molly, it’s honestly the best I have at this moment.”
She didn’t say anything; she just pulled me into her arms, and I hugged her right back.
“Are you hungry?” Lance asked, his fingers linked through mine as we walked down Boylston Street, passing some of our favorite restaurants.
“I had a huge breakfast,” I replied, sliding to the side to avoid a large group of pedestrians. “But I could eat something small.”
“We could grab …” His voice trailed off, and I glanced toward him to see where his attention had gone. He was staring at the store window we were walking by and said, “Come look at this,” bringing me over to the glass.
The display was for a baby boutique, filled with tiny outfits and adorable accessories.
“That one,” he said, pointing to an outfit in the back, which was an infant bikini, hat, and sunglasses. “For when we’re in Siesta Key.”
In the window, I was able to see my husband’s reflection, the smile on his handsome face as he looked at the clothes and hats and bathing suits for babies.
There was so much love in his eyes.
And it was for a family we’d been talking about starting for the past year.
His reflection began to shift as he moved behind me, pressing his hands against my stomach, lips close to the back of my ear. “Since you’re not renewing your contract, we only have one more month to go.”
As I stared at the clothing display, my eyes closed, a shudder trickling through my body.
“Can you imagine what our baby is going to look like?” His voice was so soft now; I almost didn’t recognize it. “I wonder if our little girl will have your wild red hair or if our boy will get my eyes.” He breathed against the side of my face. “Chloe, I’m ready to start the next chapter in our lives.”
I felt the tears leave my lids as I opened my eyes. Not afraid of Lance seeing me cry, I turned around and hugged his waist. The expression I had seen in the reflection of the window was the same one I was looking at now.
I closed my eyes once again, holding my lips so close to his, and I whispered, “I love you,” right before he kissed me.
After spending the day walking around our neighborhood, shopping in several of the new stores, Lance and I came back home.
We were standing in the kitchen, his eyes on his phone, when he said, “I have to return a few of these emails before dinner.”
Relief flooded through me as I smiled for my husband and said, “I’m going to take a quick shower, then.”
And once he kissed me, heading for his home office, I went into our bathroom and locked the door behind me.
As I stripped off my clothes, leaving them wherever they landed, I avoided the mirrors.
I didn’t even glance down to look at my own skin.
When I reached the shower faucet, I turned it to the hottest setting. Then, I walked straight in until my back hit the wall, and I slowly slid to the floor. I tucked my knees to my chest, and I held myself in the tightest ball while the freezing water pelted my face.
And while I waited for it to warm, my mouth opened, and this time, it wasn’t silent screams that came out.
It was sobs.
Forty-Eight
“I’m going to need your signature at the bottom of each page,” Sven, my manager, said as he pushed a stack of papers toward me.
“No problem,” I replied, my eyes falling onto the first lines, lifting the pen off his desk.
I knew what the contract said; I’d read it many times. I even knew the places I needed to initial, sign, and date—doing all three before I returned it to him.
He carefully checked each sheet, and then our eyes connected.
He stuck his hand out in the air for me to shake. “That looks like everything.” He nodded to confirm. “Have a safe trip home, Chloe.”
“Thank you.” I released his fingers and made my way out of his office and down the hall, stopping at my desk to grab my things before I left.
These past two weeks in Amsterdam had gone by so quickly that it felt like I’d just gotten off the plane. But as I’d learned during my semester in London, time was something I couldn’t slow down. So, I had taken in every moment I had with Oliver.
And now that it was the last evening of my six-month contract, I would be flying home tomorrow. I left the office and went straight to my hotel where he was waiting for me.
Just like we were in college all over again, he stood in my tiny kitchen, making us dinner.
But now, six years later, we were different people.
We’d just found each other again.
And, God, did it feel right.
“Hungry?” he asked.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly against me. “Starving.”
“Good. I made a lot.”
I kissed him, and as his lips parted, I felt the smallest touch of his tongue. And I breathed in his scent and held it inside me.
“Oliver …” I moaned softly.
His beard brushed over my cheek, and I took in the sensation, the warmth that he passed on to me.
He stayed just like that for several minutes until he leaned back to look at my eyes. “I’m going to feed you and then make love to you since it’s going to be six weeks before I get to do either again.”
I shook my head, the emotion starting to come to my eyes. “Both sound delicious.”
“Sven thought he was doing the American team a favor by giving you a longer break at home.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “But these six weeks are going to feel like an eternity.”
Tears were already in my eyes, and when I nodded, they loosened. Oliver was on them immediately, wiping them before they fell.
“You’re so sweet, and I’m so lucky,” I whispered. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you.”
He kissed the tip of my nose, across my lips, and over each cheek. “I’m the lucky one.” He then rubbed his beard over my skin as though he knew I needed all the extra roughness I could get before my flight tomorrow. “I made my mum’s spaghetti.” He paused, and I saw the pain in his eyes over her passing. “I know you remember that dish.”
“I knew I smelled that yumminess when I walked in.”
“I’ll get us some plates.”
His hands dropped from my body, and he reached into the cabinet, bringing two dishes over to the stove where he put pasta into each. He then placed them on my table, adding garlic bread to the plates.