He ignores me and looks at the screen and then closes his eyes and lets out a breath before he relaxes.
“Hey, Phil,” he says
“Hey, Carter, you okay, buddy?” Phil asks.
His expression tightens, but he nods. “Yeah, just went for a run. I was going to call you later. I heard from Dean this morning. Susan Kendicott wrote back. She’s agreed to see us,” he says.
“Oh thank fuck,” Phil says and I can hear the smile in his voice.
Carter looks… blank.
I frown at him and mouth. “Are you okay?”
He gives a terse nod, but walks to the window, his back to me now.
“When can we go see her?” Phil asks.
“I don’t know. I’ll check my calendar when I get home. I’ve got a busy few months.” Carter says.
“Few months? We needed to talk to her a few days ago. We can’t wait that long.”
“I said, I’ll let you know.”His voice is heavy with weariness.
“Okay… I take it you haven’t seen the news.” Phil sounds as confused as I am.
“I’ve seen it. They’re assholes,” he responds in a flat voice and then yawns wide enough that his jaw looks like it’s straining on its hinge.
“Yeah, but you know that if he knows where she is…he needs her married or dead. We have to keep an eyes on her.
“She’s fine. I’m keeping her safe, Phil,” he snaps.
“You left her alone,” Phil pushes.
“Yeah in our hotel room with a bodyguard outside, while I went for a fucking run. And now, I’m exhausted. Call you call later.” He hangs up before Phil can respond and tosses my phone on the couch.
“I’m gonna shower, can you order us some breakfast?” he says.
He kicks off his shoes, pulls his sweatpants down, peels his socks off, and turns to walk back into the bedroom.
I step into his path, plant my feet and put my hands on my hips. He bumps into me and has the nerve to look annoyed.
“What are you doing?” he asks and steps around me.
I step into his way again and he scowls.
“Why are you in such a bad mood? You were really rude to Phil and to me.” I cross my arms and glare a challenge at him.
He curses under breath and shuts his eyes for three long, anxious heartbeats. When he opens them, his anger is gone. He deflates a little and gives me a smile so sad it makes my heart ache.
“The house in Corsica - - it’s not going to work out,” he says it in a matter of fact voice that I know is hiding real disappointment. I know how much he wanted that house - and what it represented to him.
I wrap my arms around his waist, the cold from outside still clings to his sweat dampened skin, but it feels good against the heated skin of my face and I breathe in the cool, salty smell of him.
“I’m sorry baby, we’ll find you another one,” I murmur. His arms close around me and he holds me close, his face resting on top of my head, his breath coming in long, heavy sighs.
Abruptly, he lets go of me. He finishes taking off his clothes and walks into the bedroom without another word. I follow him in and watch him sitting on the edge of the bed. His head hangs between his shoulders, his hands dangle between his knees.
My worry grows and I walk over to him, start to touch him and then hesitate when his body tenses at my approach.
“Are you sure that’s all?” I make my voice as gentle as I can because it’s clear something is. I don’t miss the way his body tenses when I reach out to touch him. I draw my hand back.
He sighs, his eyes still glued to the floor. “Yeah… I’m really tired. I couldn’t sleep, turned on the TV and saw the news. I went for a run, just wanted to clear my head.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” I ask, surprised and hurt that he didn’t.
“You were sound asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.” He closes his eyes “Ugh, I have fucking headache.” He groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Just, come here,” He looks up, his eyes are so tired, the dark circles beneath them but they’re also full of pleading that I climb into his lap
He sighs in relief, closing me in his arms and resting his head on my shoulder and running a hand up and down my back, toying with the necklace he put there. The tension in his body eases, but it seeps into me, and expands.
“This is all I need. Just, you…” he says,
His words only heighten my worry.
“Tell me what’s wrong, baby,” I beg.
He shakes his head, “I’ve told you. And now, I want to shower and go back to bed with you next to me. I’m exhausted.”
There are dark circles under his eyes that testify to his words. But when he cups my cheek and presses a kiss to my lips, for the first time I ever, I taste distance.
I search his eyes and can see regret and something else that I can’t read, but don’t like. There’s something he’s not telling me, but I don’t want to force it out of him. I have to trust that if and when he needs to talk about it, he will. It’s clear that’s not happening now.
“Sure, we can do that.” I stroke his jaw and press a kiss to his forehead before I slide off his lap. He walks into the bathroom and I sit and stew.
My phone buzzes with a text from Phil. It’s my mother’s number.
I force my worry about Carter to the side and collect my thoughts. And then, I call my mother.
You Love Her. But You Don’t.
BETH
“We’re here, baby.” Carter nuzzles the side of my head. Reluctantly, I open my eyes.
“Already?” I ask, groggy from the fitful sleep that plagued me the whole journey.
I closed my eyes as soon as the train departed Paris - forgoing the chance to watch the scenery go by. I wasn’t looking forward to the journey and had a knot of dread in my gut that swelled with foreboding that’s plagued me since I spoke to my mother. I need answers to the questions that have plagued me since our DNA test results came back. Answers only she can give me. I’m prepared for whatever truth she has to say. But my feelings about her are confusing and volatile.
We’re pulling into the station and I eye the open air platform.
“Hey, are you okay?” Carter prods and squeezes my hand. He’s been holding it the whole way and I lace my fingers tighter into his and nod without looking at him.
He didn’t blink when I asked if we could delay our return to New York to see her. In fact, it shook him out of the funk he’d been in since he found out about the property.
We’re meeting at a hotel rather than her home. We’re only here for one night. I asked for the meeting to be there rather than her house because it was convenient and she agreed.
“You know we don’t have to do this. We can get off and take the next train back to Paris.”
I shake my head, trying to clear it of the anxiety that’s trapping my thoughts in a viscous web and turn to him, a smile that’s more optimistic than I feel plastered on my face.
“No, get it over with and go home, okay?” I glance at my watch and gasp.
“Shoot, she’ll be at the hotel in an hour. I want to shower and freshen up first,” I say and he nods, his expression still worried, but he returns my smile and stands up to pull the small carryon we’re sharing from above our heads.