was it. I knew how Brandon worked. When something was on his conscience, he usually couldn’t wait until morning. This was the man who once stood outside in the rain for hours to confront me. All my plans to grin and bear it through the holidays were flying out the window. Whatever was happening to our marriage, we were apparently going to face it tonight.
“Send me the address,” I said, my voice low as the knot in my stomach tangled even more. “I’m on my way.”
Chapter Three
I took a little more time than I initially planned to leave the house. If I was meeting the end, I at least wanted to show the man what he was missing. Maybe I didn’t quite have the body of a twenty-six-year-old ingenue anymore, but I looked pretty damn good for an over-thirty mother of two, if I did say so myself. My deep red hair didn’t have that many gray hairs, and the tiny crow’s feet at my eyes were only visibly when I didn’t get enough sleep. Daily runs and swims kept my body almost as trim as it was when I first met my husband, and until recently, he had seemed to enjoy the fact on a regular basis.
I pulled on a pair of skin-tight black jeans that showed off the goods, evening my Sorel snow boots, then topped them with my favorite gray cardigan and a white shirt. If she were here, Jane would have teased me that my sweater was more appropriate for knitting than seducing my husband, but I happened to know Brandon appreciated the sexy librarian look, even if I had opted for contacts over glasses. Carefully, I lined my eyes with black, gave my lips a bit of the deep red lipstick I only wore on special occasions, and brushed my hair ferociously until it was a thick, glossy mane around my shoulders. When I looked in the mirror of my ensuite bathroom, I didn’t see a said, desperate, unwanted wife any longer. I saw a fierce woman who could take or leave any man.
Even someone once called Boston’s most eligible bachelor.
The address was for a brick building off Acorn Street, one of those buildings on Beacon Hill that looked like it sprang right out of a Longfellow poem. I half expected to see Paul Revere rounding the corner as I parked on Beacon and walked, not wanting to hazard driving over the crooked cobblestones. Snow was piling inches thick now—by morning, I guessed the city would have close to a foot.
When I reached the address Brandon had given me on the mostly darkened street, I called him again, looking up at the darkened windows of the building for any sign of my errant husband.
What was he doing here? Was he confronting me with his infidelity? Showing me where he was going to live from now on?
You’re spiraling, Sky. This time is was Jane’s dry voice that grounded me.
Until, that is, my errant husband picked up the phone.
“Hey, Red.”
“Brandon?”
“You here?”
I shoved a toe of my boot into the snow. “I, um, yeah. I’m standing outside.”
“I’ll let you in. Apartment 3A.”
The call ended abruptly, leaving me even colder in the snow. A buzzer sounded at the door.
I walked to the top floor with dread sinking every step right along with the squeaking wood stairs. It was a gorgeous building, and maybe in another mood, I would’ve appreciate the old brick exterior, the polished oak rails, and the charm of the plaster walls. But by the time I reached the door bearing the number 3A in brass lettering, I was almost too drowned in my own misery even to knock.
But in the end, my curiosity got the better of me. If I was greeting the end of my life, I might as well do it with a stiff upper lip. I straightened, flipped my hair over my shoulder.
Brandon, however, couldn’t wait. Just as I raised my hand, the door swung open, and I was greeted by the sight of my very tired-looking, but still incredibly gorgeous husband.
Seven years after we first met, the sight of him still made me breathless. Six feet, four inches of muscled, gorgeous billionaire filled the doorway completely with a pair of shoulders that spanned the doorframe, denim-clad legs that went on for miles, and a jawline that, even at forty-five, could still cut glass. Sure, there were a few differences. His piercing blue eyes had a few more tiny crinkles at the edges.