Chapter 12
Itold Bennett the arrangement was over on Sunday morning.
Elise had advised me to meet somewhere public. Bennett chose the coffee shop where we'd spent rainy Saturdays when Rowan Events was new and neither of us could afford brunch. He arrived wearing the navy sweater.
“You look tired,” he said.
“You look familiar.”
He sat across from me. “I haven't been sleeping.”
“Laurel snores?”
“Laurel isn't at the apartment.”
That surprised me, but I didn't ask where she was.
“I shouldn't have called Theodore,” he said. “I was worried. You started dating a client days after I left, and it felt reckless.”
“You slept with Laurel for six months before asking my permission.”
“I was going to tell you.”
“You told her I already knew.”
“Because she needed reassurance.”
“So did your wife.”
He reached across the table. I moved my hand before his touched it.
“I handled this badly,” he said. “But filing for divorce turns a bad month into the end of twenty years.”
“The marriage didn't end when I filed. It ended when you built an arrangement that required me to be the only person telling the truth.”
“We can close it.”
“I am closing it.”
Relief appeared on his face.
“And the marriage with it,” I said.
His relief vanished.
“Because of Nate?”
“Because of you.”
“You hardly know him.”
“This isn't a choice between two men. I'm choosing not to remain married to one who lied to me, exposed me to a sexual-health risk and attacked my work when the rules applied equally.”
“I made one call.”
“You made six months of choices.”
He pushed back from the table. “You always do this. You reduce people to a list of mistakes and decide there's no room for anything else.”
“I've spent twenty years making room for you.”
“And I've supported you through late nights, canceled vacations and dinners where you worked. Don't rewrite our marriage as if I contributed nothing.”
He was right. Betrayal hadn't erased birthdays, hospital waiting rooms and Sunday coffee. It made them painful to remember.
“You contributed. Then you decided my loyalty was a resource you could keep while you shopped for excitement.”
“That's not fair.”
“Neither was February.”
I stood and put cash beneath my untouched cup.
“Elise will handle the practical details. Call before you come to the house.”
Outside, I walked three blocks before realizing I was heading toward Nate's apartment. He opened his door in jeans and an old gray T-shirt.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“No.”
He glanced past me, as if checking whether I'd been followed. “Do you want to come in?”
“Yes.”
Inside, his apartment was warm and untidy. A stack of gardening journals leaned against the sofa. One sock lay beneath the coffee table. The kitchen smelled of burned toast.
“I told him,” I said.
“About us?”
“About the divorce.”
Nate nodded. He didn't congratulate me.
I took off my coat and put it over the back of a chair. “I don't want to talk about Bennett.”
“All right.”
“And I don't want you to ask whether I'm sure.”
He looked at me for a long moment. “What do you want?”
I crossed the space between us.
“You.”
He didn't move immediately.
“I need to know this isn't something you'll regret because I happened to be standing closest when you left him,” he said.
“You aren't standing closest. Evelyn lives twelve blocks away.”
“Claire.”
“I may regret the timing. I may be terrified tomorrow. Neither would mean I don't want you now.”
“And if I say I need more than one night?”
The question exposed what his restraint had hidden. Nate wasn't offering himself without risk. He wanted a place in my life, even if neither of us knew its shape.
“Then stay long enough to find out whether I can give it,” I said.
He touched my face. “That's terrifyingly reasonable.”
“Don't get used to it.”
This kiss began slowly. Nate gave me time to change my mind. I didn't. We reached his bedroom without elegance. My hip struck the doorframe, his knee hit the bed and his head caught in his shirt when I pulled it off.
“Smooth,” he said.
The joke loosened the last knot of fear.
He paused when he found the faint mark Bennett had left on my shoulder the last time we'd been together.
“Don't,” I said.
“Don't what?”
“Make him part of this.”
Nate kissed the mark and then moved lower.
My body had changed since I'd last been naked with someone new. For a second, I reached for the sheet. Nate's uncomplicated hunger stopped me. There was no performance to give. When something hurt, I said so. When I wanted more, I said that too. He listened without making a ceremony of it.
Later, I lay with my cheek against his chest while his fingers traced the back of my arm.
“Still don't want to talk about Bennett?” he asked.
“I may never want to talk again.”
“That good?”
“Don't be smug.”
“I'm trying to remain humble in a difficult moment.”
I laughed into his skin.
My husband had asked for permission to desire someone else. He'd never imagined desire might carry me away from him.
But Bennett hadn't given me this.
I had come here on my own.