eyes. “You’ve found someone else.” His breath gusted out in a whoosh, fluttering the edges of his too-long hair. “I guess I deserved that.”
No reason to tell this man that every time I’d tried to see someone new that the ghost of my husband went with us on dates. I never went out twice with the same person, and sometimes cut even the first date short.
“You’re wearing your ring!” Was there hope in Travis’s eyes?
Oh, that. “It’s for business. Clients put more faith in a married man, for some reason.” I shoved my hand, and the telltale ring, into my pocket.
Travis remained quiet for some time. No shiny gold band encircled his ring finger. Given his current state of living, he might have pawned the symbol that no longer held any meaning for him.
I studied the man, the defeated air. Damn, how I’d once loved him. My heart constricted. I loved him still. Was one night too much to ask? “Do you have proper clothes for Winston’s?”
Travis’s face lit up. Gradually the light faded. He’d so loved dinner at Winston’s. Only, a coat and tie were required. “Um…no. Look, there’s a pizza place around the corner we could go to. I doubt you’d run into anyone you know and have to explain me. Maybe it’s better.” Forget other people; I need him to explain himself to me.
A million questions hovered on my tongue, poised for flight. What good would answers do? He’s there, I’m here, and we’d never meet again for longer than a few hours—if that. In the end I said, “Go take a shower—we’re going to Winston’s.” At home a dozen lovely suits hung in his side of our walk-in closet. I doubted they’d fit him now.
I pulled out my phone and made a few calls until the water stopped running in the bathroom.
“Frank’s Haberdashery? Are you sure?” Travis peered out of the car window. We’d both been here often enough in the past.
“No, I’m not sure, but yet here we are. We don’t have time for custom tailoring, but Frank thinks he might have something workable on the rack.” I pulled the car behind the building and escorted Travis in through the employee’s entrance.
“Good evening, Ian.” Frank did a double-take. “Travis? Oh my God, man! How are you?” The aging tailor grabbed Travis in a bone-crushing hug, and judging by how delicate Travis’s bones appeared, I feared the worst.
“Fine, fine!” Travis wrestled free of the embrace. “You’re looking good, Frank. How’s the missus?”
Frank’s smile fell. “Anna passed away last year.”
The color drained from Travis’s cheeks. The pain in his eyes would follow me into my dreams this night. He barely choked out, “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“It’s okay. How could you? Come this way please.” A decided chill filled the air. Frank’s wife and Travis had been friends. Frank’s eyes met mine in passing. Instead of pain, his held accusation.
Holy shit! Travis hadn’t known? His absence at her funeral had caused a stir. How stupid of me to have forgotten. He’d been too wrapped up in his own world to acknowledge someone else’s ending, I’d told myself then, clutching at straws for reasons to hate him. And all this time, he hadn’t been told. I should have found him, no matter where he was at the time, made sure he’d heard the news, taken him to the graveside service. I shouldn’t have assumed Travis read the papers, or continued contact with his old friends after leaving.
I stood by, watching Frank dress my former love. Damn, but Travis had lost weight. He’d once taken pride in his body, working out, eating right. Now his ribs showed. He’s not yours anymore. He walked away. “Ran” better described his leaving. And yet, his father had died young from cancer. Surely he wouldn’t hide a malignancy from me and Bob. Would he?
In no time at all Travis appeared more his old self, dressed in a nice new suit, and based on Frank’s heartfelt hug, he’d been forgiven too.
Though he was pitifully thin, the richness of the suit gave Travis an exotic appearance. Lines drew the path of his life on his handsome face. I’d known most of the twists and turns that marked him, until—well. What had happened in the last two years to trace itself at his temples?
My eyes stung. The reeking carpet at his apartment must’ve been playing hell with my allergies. I stared down at the ring on the third finger of my left hand. Tonight