to indicate his body, “…your current condition?” Please, God, no. We aren’t together anymore, he’d deserted me, but please don’t let this meeting be our final goodbye.
For a split second, fire appeared in his eyes, and I braced for a good scolding. In the end he released a sigh. “Would you listen if I did?” He muttered the words so softly I barely caught them. Louder, he replied, “No.”
I didn’t believe him. How many times in the past had he told me “It’s nothing” when he wasn’t feeling well? He’d always kept illnesses to himself. The lawyer in me demanded more evidence.
Travis patted the bedspread. Sitting next to him on a bed wasn’t a good idea. Memories flooded back, the two of us, racing to the bedroom at the end of the day, clothes strewn down the hall, barely getting the door closed before attacking each other. I shook my head and remained standing.
“Suit yourself.” A forced smile erased a few years from his face. “Remember when we met at Pride?”
How could I forget? Against better judgment, I’d allowed a friend to rope me into attending the festivities. At our third club in as many hours, I’d glanced up and fell into the same green eyes staring at me now. For the next few months, Travis had been the center of my world.
I loved the law—I was good at it, and it rewarded me. With my handsome income I could lavish my darling with all kinds of good things. We’d had so much for just us two—we could take care of someone else. We’d moved in together a year after meeting, and adopted Bob a year after that.
“And the first time we saw Bob, how he hid behind that social worker?”
When I’d first met my son he’d been a tiny boy with the biggest blue eyes I’d ever seen—eyes that had seen way more than a five-year-old should have to. He’d cried a lot at first, and many a night I’d woken to an empty bed, only to find my son and my husband nestled together, asleep on the couch, tears staining Bob’s face. With Travis’s love and guidance, Bob had blossomed, overcome the horrors of his early years, and would soon start a residency.
Our son came into our lives, and the clubs, concerts, and theater faded away We quit marching in feathers and sequins—Pride became something to celebrate at home, with each other and our little boy, blowing soap bubbles for his puppy to catch.
Darker times now overshadowed any pleasant memories. “What do you want?” I reached for my billfold. “Is it money?”
“No.” The smile fled Travis face. “You do know what today is, right?”
Why was everyone so determined to remind me of the date? Both of us in white suits, Bob standing with us to watch his fathers marry. It wasn’t the kind of thing easily forgotten. “It’s our anniversary.” One of them, at any rate.
“You never divorced me.” A statement, not a question.
“I didn’t want to upset Bobby…umm…Bob.”
A touch of challenge appeared in the stiff set of Travis’s shoulders and chin. A faint echo of the fire he’d once possessed. “Is that the only reason?” His voice held none of his onstage confidence.
“Yes.” Lying awake,tears streaming down my face, turning to hug a vacant pillow. The man who’d abandoned me didn’t need to know the truth.
He wafted out a weary-sounding breath that must have started at his toes. “I know I have no right to ask this, but I want one more night with you.”
“You want what?” What the fuck? Why did he sound so fatalistic, like one of his stage roles delivering bad news? He’d no right to me or my bed anymore. Who else’s bed had he shared? Did he want sex?
“You heard me. I want one more night, like it used to be.”
Like it used to be. The two of us, unable to keep our hands off each other. The sheer ecstasy on his face when he came. The way he’d worshipped me in bed.
Travis picked at lint on the bedspread, eyes following the path of his fingers. It’d take a lot of picking to clean the frayed fabric. Voice scarcely above a whisper, he added, “I want to go out to dinner, see where the evening takes us. Then I’d like you to spend the night.”
None of the eloquent speeches I’d prepared on the way over covered this particular turn of events. “Travis, I…”