That One Summer: A Collection of Steamy Contemporary Romance

Chapter 18

Aneka

Caleb’s flight fromNew York should have already landed in Dallas, and he should be on his way home. We didn’t talk much while he was gone this week, and I worried bringing up Elijah bothered him. I saw an entire night’s worth of commentary about my ex swimming in his eyes, but Caleb said practically nothing.

Resolving to call him and invite him over, I focused on how productive a day I’d had. I met with the mayor over lunch to outline my new role in more detail. After that, I hit the gym at the community center, which I joined as a paying member, and then the store to buy provisions for the dinner I promised him tomorrow night.

I’d just brought the groceries into the kitchen when the bell rang. I trudged back to the door and swung it open.

Seriously?

“Elijah.”

“Hi. How are you?” He stood there grinning, wearing the aviator sunglasses he thought made him look like Denzel.

They didn’t.

“You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“Yeah, well, I was cleaning out my rental house, getting ready to move, and I found some things that I thought you should have and figured I’d deliver them in person. The boxes are in the car.”

He gestured over his shoulder with his thumb.

“You should have called. I’m...I wasn’t expecting you.” I tugged at the hem of my workout shorts.

“You look lovely. I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

I ignored his appreciative words and the pleased assessment as he swept his eyes over my outfit.

“You drove all the way from Houston?”

Stupid question. Of course he had. That’s why he was standing without warning or believable explanation on my damn doorstep.

“I needed to see you.”

I grimaced. He rushed on.

“I went to the doctor this morning.”

My chest constricted. “Come in.”

He swept past me, and I led him back to the kitchen. Paper grocery bags, some folded and some still with items, littered the countertops. I gestured for him to sit at the butcher-block table and cleared more things away as quickly as possible, including the fresh, whole duck I’d bought for Caleb’s dinner. Still, Elijah noticed.

“Duck? You having people over?”

Roasted duck was one of my special occasion dinners. I didn’t cook it much for the family because he didn’t like it. Neither did Naomi. But I loved roasted duck, and I hoped Caleb might too.

“What did the doctor say?” I asked instead of answering his question or once again asking him why he hadn’t called with his news instead of popping up unannounced.

“He’s recommending surgery. One of the growths was too large to remove during the colonoscopy.”

My eyes widened. “You didn’t mention that before. I thought they were doing biopsies on polyps they removed?”

“They did. Those were fine. Well,” he paused, eyes dancing. “Not fine, but probably only precancerous. I need to get back to him about a time to schedule another surgery. They’ll make sure.”

I closed my eyes and leaned on the edge of the counter, trying to take in what he was saying. “Do they think you have cancer?”

“It’s too soon for all of that. No one said that. I don’t want you to worry.”

He was at my side in an instant with an arm around my shoulders. I turned out of his embrace and stepped back.

“When is the surgery?”

He cleared his throat. “That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I have the divorce papers with me. I’ve signed them, and I brought some other things from the house that are yours now. I want you to make sure you have them.”

He started around the island toward his bag, but I grabbed his arm. “Stop. When is the surgery?”

“I haven’t scheduled it yet. I thought I could work that out with you. I’d like you to be there. If you can.”

The mix of topics made my forehead throb. I filled a glass with water from the tap. The lukewarm liquid cleared my mind.

“But the doctor must have suggested a timeline. They must have given you some idea of how urgent this is?”

He swallowed. “As soon as possible.”

My stomach sank. “Okay. Well, put it on the books. Whenever you need. I’ll clear the time with my boss.”

“Boss? So you got a job here.”

“I just started, but I can work around that.”

Elijah swallowed me up with one of the big bear hugs I used to fall into with trust and love and even desire, but now, the embrace left me unsettled with a nagging aversion. I set aside the feelings and let him hug me for a minute. He was Jeremy and Naomi’s father, and if I were with him, I’d be scared witless.

He seemed rattled. I couldn’t remember seeing my usually sharp-witted, charming husband so scattered.

“Are you doing okay with all of this?”

He stood taller and tried on a small smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m facing a lot of change with the divorce and another move.”

“Why not stay where you are?”

“It’s not convenient anymore. I chose it because it’s midway between the church offices and Tyffani’s job. But with the inquiry still going and her leaving, it doesn’t make sense. It’s too expensive. I need to tighten my belt and focus on what’s ahead.”

In all our years of marriage, Elijah had never been one for doctors or giving into health worries. And he never volunteered to cut his budget. I was the one who nagged and pushed and budgeted for him. No wonder he scrounged for money in secret to fund his affair.

I put that out of my head, for now. My voice cracked around the lump forming in my throat.

“I’m sorry. I... I don’t know what else to say.”

I didn’t want to cry. I’d said I was done crying over him, but here I was again.

“God doesn’t give us more than we can bear. I choose to see the lessons. I’m remembering what matters. Who matters.” Elijah’s voice slid into his familiar preacher’s timber, warm and moralistic.

He stroked my cheek, and his smile spread wider. I drew him into another hug, thinking back to when things had been okay between us.

“Don’t say anything to the kids until we have all the facts. Your situation sounds really unclear right now. Can I come with you to the doctor? Or I could call? What’s their name?”

Elijah frowned, shaking his head. “We won’t be married much longer. I don’t know what they’ll share.”

“They’ll share whatever you want them to, but if you’d rather I not talk to them, I understand,” I said.

Still, confusion dogged me. I didn’t want to plague him with all my questions, but he had so few answers himself. Talking directly to the doctor would help.

But it wasn’t my place anymore.

He rubbed my arm and gave it a squeeze, moving closer. The smell of his aftershave filled my nose, and I thought I might sneeze.

“I’ll talk to them next week with a clearer head. I think I’m in shock. I’ll pass along the information. In the meantime, I have the signed agreement,” he said.

He retrieved an envelope from his bag and slid them across the counter to me. I patted them without opening the envelope.

It was what I wanted. I’d been waiting for the divorce papers, but the burden of worry quashed any joy at closing this chapter of my life.

“Thank you. I’ll have my attorney file them with the judge.”

He grimaced. “Are you sure?”

His beseeching gaze searched my face. My gut roiled and tightened. I didn’t know how he could hope to find anything there other than certainty.

I loved him once and never questioned my commitment. Our marriage wasn’t a grand passion, but I cared for him and admired him. I thought we were steadfast in helping each other be our best selves and trying to be happy in the life we made. Commitment was the countermeasure to all our hard times. Or so I thought. He held my hand while we brought our babies into this world. We laughed over poopy diapers and missing teeth and teenage fender benders.

But he also ducked out of the house in the middle of the night. I went through bouts of hang up calls and snickering whispers at church, at the country club, at our kids’ school.

All of that before the final, soul-searing public humiliation.

What I missed were youthful ideals that were gone forever—the beliefs instilled in me by my parents and my wide-eyed plans for a life vastly different from the one I lived. Digging deep into my heart, I knew I didn’t miss him. I wasn’t sure if I ever really knew him. Or him me.

Even now, part of me just wanted Elijah out of my house so I had space to breathe. I wanted to call Caleb and hear his voice, knowing that, if nothing else, what he said to me was true without my having to convince myself.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay.” He dropped his head.

“Are you headed back tonight or staying in town?”

“I thought I’d stay and drive back tomorrow,” he replied with a sigh, brows lifted.

Sweet Jesus. He expected to stay with me. The guest rooms were clean, but I wasn’t even sure there were sheets on the beds. I hadn’t planned on guests.

Send him to a hotel. He should have called.

He’s still your husband.

Be real. You don’t want to look at him over your coffee mug tomorrow.

He’s sick. Go make up the guest room.

“I—” he began as I cut him off.

“The Hampton Inn off the highway probably has rooms,” I suggested, guilty but glad. “But stay for a bit. I’ll make you some dinner.”

“Dinner sounds marvelous. Not fan of duck,” he commented with a light laugh. “But yeah, I’ll get a hotel room. This is awkward enough.”

I smiled. “It is. I feel like I’m being a bad wife, but I’m not your wife anymore. I haven’t been for a while.”

He pursed his lips, and the doorbell rang before he could respond to my comment. Instead, his eyes flicked toward the hall leading back to the foyer.

“I’ll get it. You finish with the groceries,” he insisted.

“No, I got it.”

I started after him, but he’d already turned and rushed away.