nationally.
My glow from the date fades the closer we get to home. Simon’s checking his messages.
He’s clueless to my change in mood, but I’m masking it like normal. I don’t say anything. If this is going to work, I have to trust him and give him a chance to deal with it.
“I’m not tired,” he says as we enter the house. “Feel up to a show?”
Cuddling in our movie room has a nice ring to it. “What are you in the mood for?”
“You pick. I’ll run and change.”
He’ll change all right. And check his messages. But he’s trying.
I don’t need to change. There’re blankets in the movie room if I get cold, but I plan to share more than body heat with my husb—with Simon.
Clicking through streaming services, I find a Spider-Man we haven’t seen. We share a love of action movies and I will never go wrong with a superhero movie. A lot of action and a little bit of romance.
I assume he hasn’t seen it. I heard, loudly from the girls, that there’s nothing good to watch at his place and he claims not to have gone out.
You’re it for me. You were always it for me.
He was so sincere when he said that. A satisfied quiver runs through my belly.
Several minutes go by and I tire of watching the same clip playing over and over while waiting to hit play. I back out of the movie and choose an Earth documentary to pass the time. We might be able to sleep in tomorrow, but it’s still getting late.
Finally, I click the screen off, irritation slithering through me.
His fucking work struck again.
I knew it.
He’s locked himself away. He might as well pack his damn bags while he’s on his call. Our first date night in years and this is how it ends?
I’m stomping up the stairs when I stop. My heart is racing and rage pounds at my skull. All those old feelings of inadequacy and helplessness are assailing me. But they’re from before. We aren’t in the same place as we were a year ago.
What am I doing? Am I going to pound on his door and demand he hang up the phone? Am I going to go to bed and lock him out?
The first time work majorly interferes and I’m ready to bail.
I close my eyes and take a steadying breath. He’s doing his part and I have to do more than issue ultimatums. We haven’t been home an hour and I’m ready to toss in the towel.
We had a wonderful dinner, a nice evening listening to a variety of live music, and now we’re home.
It’s too late for a show, but I can get ready for bed. And I’ll be there by the time he’s done.
I shuck off my dress and strip the rest of my clothes off. Washing the product out of my hair, I hum to myself. The sound fools me into loosening up.
I let out a long breath and visualize my tension going with it. It’ll be okay. He’ll come to bed. If we don’t have sex it’s not the end of the world. Having Simon undisturbed from Friday night to Sunday night is an oddity, one I would gladly have regularly.
Shutting the water off, I step out of the ceramic enclave for my towel. There’s a tall form leaning in the doorway, a navy blue towel dangling from his hand.
I yelp and steady my hand on my heart. “Simon. You scared me.”
The corner of his mouth tilts up. He’s still in his slacks. The top button is undone and his shirt is half untucked. A rogue lock of hair rests on his forehead. “I’m glad that you aren’t used to men waiting for you when your shower’s done.”
For the first time it occurs to me that he might’ve thought I was out dating. I repress a shudder. I don’t think waiting twenty years after the divorce would’ve given me enough time to be ready for that.
No one can compare to Simon.
I look him over one more time. He’s not offering me the towel and his gaze is licking over my bare body. There’s one hanging next to me, but I don’t grab for it. Shadows linger in his eyes where there were none before. “Is everything okay?”
He lifts his gaze and I can see that no, it’s not. “I took care of it. A London company that’s going public and that Gainesworth Equity was in consideration with has been accused of