She stretched her arms
and put them behind her head. “Anyway, Frank was livid, as you can imagine. But I don’t care. He definitely had it coming.”
“That’s for sure,” I said.
My phone started ringing and I looked down at it.
Scott.
“
Hey, honey,” he said, when I answered. “How’s your day going?”
“Okay. How’
s your day?”
He groaned. “Horrible. I
’m at the office, pulling my hair out. I’m sorry, but it looks like it’s going to be another long night, I’m afraid.”
My heart stopped.
I’d just seen him walking into the Four Seasons less than five minutes ago. Why would he tell me he was stuck at the office?
I cleared my throat.
“So, you’re still at the office?”
He paused. “Yeah.
”
He was lying
and I felt like I’d been kicked in the stomach.
“Okay,” I said
, trying to remain calm. “I guess I’ll see you tonight.”
“
Babe, are you okay? Your voice sounds funny.”
“
I’m fine,” I said, my lips beginning to tremble.
He sighed. “
Okay. Well, I love you.”
“Me, too,” I answered, trying not to cry as he hung up.
Darcy was staring at me. “What’s going on?”
Thinking
that I must have mistaken the man walking into the hotel for my husband, I decided to let it go. Scott would
never
have an affair. No way.
I let out a long breath
. “Nothing.”
Scott didn’t come home until al
most midnight, while I stared blindly at my Kindle, waiting for him in our bed.
“Hi
, honey,” he said, setting his briefcase on the floor.
“Hello.”
He loosened his tie and sighed. “Wow, what a long and shitty night.”
I cleared my throat.
“Did you figure everything out?”
He
leaned over the edge of the bed and kissed me on the cheek. “Well, I might have to stop in tomorrow for a couple of hours, just to clear up some loose ends. But then, I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”
“Good.”
He yawned. “I’m going to take a quick shower. I’ll join you soon.”
Normally
, I wouldn’t have thought anything of him taking a shower, but after the episode downtown, him working extremely late, and now the shower, it was disconcerting.
I swallowed a lump in the back of my throat. “Okay.”
When I heard the water
running in our private bathroom, I scrambled out of bed and grabbed his cell phone, which was in his suit jacket. I checked his
call history
, but found nothing – no previous calls, no text messages. Nothing. He’d apparently erased it all.
Was this
normal? Was he in the habit of doing that?
I didn’t
know. I had never checked his cell phone before, because I’d
always
trusted him.
At that moment,
I caught my reflection in our dresser mirror and grimaced at what I’d become. Just because I’d mistaken someone else for my husband, I was acting like some kind of insecure, jealous wife.
Scott love
s me.
He told me that every single day
. Why would he tell me that if he was seeing someone else?
I sighed with relief.
He wouldn’t.
Feeling
paranoid and foolish, I put his phone back and crawled back into bed.
“I feel much better,” he murmured in
to my ear ten minutes later, after sliding in behind me and pulling me close.
“I missed you
today,” I whispered.
He kissed
the side of my neck. “I missed you, too.”
We were spooning
, and the fact that we hadn’t had sex in ages ignited a fire between my legs. I grabbed his hand and placed it on my breast.
He chuckled. “Wow, someone feeling a little frisky?”
“It’s been too long. I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow,” I whispered, turning towards him.
“Then why wait?”
He slid his arms around me and began kissing my lips.
I returned his kisses
, more fervently than I had in ages, devouring his mouth with mine, tasting the mint from his toothpaste. I was on fire and couldn’t get enough.
“I want you,
right now,” I whispered, moving my hands under his pajamas.
“Wow,”
he groaned as I began stroking him, turning him from soft to hard. “I guess you
are
horny.”
“
You don’t know the half of it,” I said, pushing my underwear down my legs and then kicking them away.
“I’m not complaining,” he said,
“Mmm…” I breathed, as his hands moved to my rear, cupping my cheeks and squeezing.
“You feel so good,”
he whispered as I wrapped my thighs around him and welcomed him inside.
“S
o do you,” I moaned in satisfaction.
He turned until he was on to
p of me then pulled my nightgown over my head, exposing my breasts, which were, thankfully, still round and firm. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered lowering his mouth to my nipples.
I
grinned in delight and closed my eyes, meeting his thrusts, reveling in the feel of him inside of me, moving in and out. It felt so good, so filling.
Man
, how I’d missed it…
“Touch me,” I moaned
, now crazy with desire.
He reached down and began stroking between my legs.
“Yes,” I moaned, feeling my orgasm begin to build, higher and higher. I wanted it so bad, to feel the release, to scream in ecstasy, to –
“
Gonna come,” he grunted, then pulled out.
I opened my eyes
and looked up at his flushed face.
Seriously?
“Sorry,” he smiled sheepishly after he’d finished. He then rolled off of me and sat up.
“Um…it’s… okay,
” I answered, although I felt like someone had shoved a juicy steak with all the fixings in front of my nose, and then emptied it into the garbage disposal.
He brushed his
lips against mine, then stood up and went into the bathroom.
I groaned inwardly and then smacked my pillow, knowing it was over. Once he came, he was usually too tired to reciprocate.
Well, t
here was always tomorrow night…
I woke
up early the next morning and began making breakfast for Scott. I pulled out a mixing bowl and started gathering the items needed for my famous “triple-cheese omelet”, which I knew he adored. As I was pouring the egg mixture into the pan, he sauntered into the kitchen.
“Hey
, babe,” he said.
I glanced over and gave him an appraising look. Today he
wore a pair of khaki pants and a light blue polo shirt, which brought out his eyes. His hair was still damp from the shower and I could smell his aftershave, which hinted of sandalwood and cinnamon.
“Hungry
?” I asked, motioning towards the pan. “I’m making your favorite omelet.”
He stepped closer.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, Lindsey,” he said, squeezing one of my butt cheeks. “Harry’s bringing donuts.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Donuts? I thought they had too much
gluten
?”
Sc
ott was on some kind of health-food kick and was avoiding anything with white flour. I had to admit, he was looking better than ever. I only wished I had his control. But no, not me – if it was fried, loaded with cheese, or included icing, I was all over it. I guess some would call me a carb whore – I just couldn’t get enough.
He laughed and nuzzled my neck. “They do. But after last night, I figured I deserved it.”
“Well, save your strength for tonight,” I said. “Because you’re going to need all the help you can get.”
He wiggled his
eyebrows. “Sounds like a challenge.”
“Oh, it’s a threat
,” I said, handing him a glass of orange juice. “One I think we’ll both enjoy. Happy Anniversary, by the way.”
“Thank you. Happy Anniversary
to you, too,” he answered.
“You sure you don’t want anything?” I asked, looking down at the pan.
“Sorry, I really don’t have time. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can return home,” he said, washing out his glass.
“Good
,” I said.
After he
left for work, the kids began waking up and making their way down to the kitchen.
“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” I asked Regan as she opened up a container of
blueberry yogurt.
She sat down at the counter.
“I’m hanging out with Lisa. Isn’t today your wedding anniversary?”
I smiled. “Yes
. Grandma and Grandpa are throwing a party for us. Make sure you’re home by six o’clock, so we’re not late.”
Jeremy looked up from his Kindle.
“Do we
have
to go?”
“Of course you
have
to go,” I said. “What kind of question is that?”
“It’s just that Hugo invited me over
to his house tonight. He has this new video game that I’ve been dying to try out.”
Hugo lives down the street and they’ve
been friends for many years. He has spent as much time at our house as Jeremy has at his. They’re practically joined at the hip.
“You’r
e going to have to reschedule that game. I’m sorry, honey.”
He frowned.
“Well, can Hugo come with us to the party?”
I sighed. “I’ll
have to ask your father.”
“That’s not fair, if
Hugo gets to come with, then I should be able to invite Lisa, too,” pouted Regan.
“We’ll see,” I said. “Your father and I were planning on spending the night at the
hotel while you two went home with your grandparents. I don’t think it will work out if your friends tag along.”
It was then that I heard someone’s
cell phone vibrating and noticed that Scott had forgotten his on the counter.
I walked over and picked it up. “Grea
t, your dad’s going to need his phone, I’m sure.”
Staring at the screen,
I noticed that he’d received a text message and that the first few words had flashed across the screen.
I need you…
I frowned.
I NEED YOU?
What exactly was that supposed to mean?
“Mom, can I have some pancakes?” asked Jeremy.
I stared at the phone, its message light blinking
as quickly as my heart rate. I was dying to read the rest of the message, but also afraid of what I’d find; especially, after yesterday.
This is stupid, my husband loves me
, I reminded myself, once again. We’d
just made love a few hours before. It was probably someone at work, waiting for him.
I cringed at my own
insecurities. Obviously I’d been watching too many talk shows and they were getting to me. My self-esteem certainly wasn’t what it used to me.
“Mom?”
I turned to look at my son. “What?”
Jeremy sighed. “Can I please have some pancakes?”
Scott’s
cell phone vibrated loudly in my hand, and I dropped it on the counter.
“Good going, mom,” snorted
Regan. “Dad would kill you if you broke his ‘most sacred’ cell phone.”
“No kidding,” I said.
I picked it back up and my breath caught in my throat. It was another message from the same number.
Don’t make me wait.
I felt like I was going to be sick.
I could barely breathe. This time I didn’t hesitate, I opened up his phone and read both messages.
I need you. I’ll be waiting in your office
.
Second message didn’t say anything other tha
n “
Don’t make me wait.”
This
could mean so many things
, I told myself.
Jesus, Lindsey
,
don’t jump to conclusions.
I took a deep breath
and glanced at my children. “I’m going to dad’s office to drop off his phone. I’ll be back in an hour, or so.”
“I guess that means I’m m
aking my own pancakes?” mumbled Jeremy.