22. Izzy #3
When I let myself into the brownstone with the key he gave me last month, Linda is set up at the dining table with her laptop, rearranging his whole week.
She looks up when she sees me and goes a little pink. “Mrs. Carter. He’s in the back on a call, but I can get him if you…”
“Don’t get up. I’ve got it.”
I walk down the hall and push through the office door without knocking.
Wilson sits at his desk with the phone pressed to his ear, sleeves rolled up. When he sees me in the doorway, his whole face changes. Like I just made his day better by showing up.
“I’ll call you back.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. “Hey. This is a nice surprise.”
“You canceled the trip.” I shut the door behind me and lean against it. My heart is going way too fast. “Linda called me by accident. She told me everything.”
He doesn’t look away from me. “Your show is on Thursday.”
“Wilson, you didn’t have to do that.”
“Yeah, I did.” He stands up and comes around the desk, and there’s no hesitation in him. “Izzy, I’ve missed everything. Every single thing that mattered to you. I was always on a plane, always telling myself I’d make it up to you later.”
He stops in front of me and shoves his hands in his pockets like he doesn’t trust himself not to reach for me.
“Do you know how many times I sat on the other side of the world thinking about you? Wondering what you were doing, whether you were okay, whether you’d finally given up on me?”
“Wilson…”
“And the whole time I kept telling myself it was fine. That you understood. That you’d still be there when I got back.” His voice cracks. “But you weren’t fine, were you? You were alone in that apartment waiting for me, and I just kept not showing up.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t.
“When Linda told me about the trip, I didn’t even think about it.
I just said no.” He takes his hands out of his pockets and reaches for me, his fingers wrapping around mine.
“Because Thursday is your night. Your gallery. Your paintings. The thing you built all by yourself after everything we went through.”
“It’s just a show.” I have to push the words out. “It’s not worth…”
“Don’t say just a show, Izzy. It’s you.” He squeezes my hands. “It’s you deciding you matter again. It’s you picking up a brush after years of thinking you weren’t good enough.”
The tears are coming now and I can’t stop them.
“I’m going to be there when the doors open.
I’m going to stand right next to you the whole night.
” He lets go of my hands and cups my face, tilting it up so I have to look at him.
“And I’m going to tell every single person who walks through that door that you’re my wife and I’m so fucking proud of you. ”
“You mean that.” It’s not a question.
“I mean it.” His thumbs brush the tears off my cheeks. “I know I’ve said a lot of shit over the years that I didn’t follow through on. I know you have every reason not to believe me. But I’m asking you to believe me anyway.”
“I’m scared.” I hadn’t planned to say it. “I’m scared the show is going to be a disaster and everyone’s going to realize I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“Then it’ll be a disaster and I’ll still be standing right there.” He smiles at me, soft and sure. “And we’ll go get pizza after and talk about how terrible it was, and then you’ll try again, and I’ll be there for that one too.”
I laugh even though I’m crying. “You hate pizza.”
“I’ll learn to love it.” He pulls me into his chest and holds on tight. “I’ll learn to love whatever I have to, Izzy. I just want to be there. That’s all I want anymore.”
I press my face into his shirt and let myself really cry, the way I haven’t in front of him in years.
“I love you, and you’re my priority now.” His voice is steady against my hair. “I’m never going to stop showing you that, whether you like it or not.”
“Whether I like it or not?” I wipe my face on his shirt.
“You’re stuck with me.” He doesn’t let go. “That’s just how it is now.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“It’s a promise.” He pulls back just enough to look at me. “Thursday and every day after that.”
I look at him, this man I married at City Hall and toasted on a rooftop with champagne that was way too sweet. The man who broke my heart so completely I had to rebuild my entire life around the hole he left. The man who just told everyone else to wait because I mattered more.
He didn’t even mean for me to find out about any of it. No audience. No big speech. Just him, making a decision without me anywhere in the room.
I grab his tie with both hands and yank him down to my mouth, kissing him so hard our teeth click together. We stumble backward into his desk and papers go everywhere, a paperweight hitting the floor with a thud.
“Izzy, wait…” He gets my name out against my lips, his hands landing on my waist.
“Stop talking.” I kiss him harder and pull the tie over his head, tossing it behind me. “Not another word.”
I reach back and flip the lock on the office door. The click is loud in the quiet room.
“Linda is like twenty feet away,” he mumbles into my neck, but his hands are already sliding under my shirt.
“Then I guess you’d better be quiet for once.” I start on his shirt buttons. “I know that’s not really your thing, but try.”
He laughs into my neck and lifts me onto the desk, sweeping the rest of the papers to the floor. I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him closer by his belt.
His mouth finds my throat, then my collarbone. My bra strap slides off my shoulder and I’m working his belt open when there’s a knock at the door.
“Mr. Carter? Sorry to bother you, but that call came back and you’ve got the four o’clock.” Linda’s voice is muffled through the wood.
“Cancel it.” He says it against my mouth without lifting his head, fingers still working the clasp at my back.
“The four o’clock too?”
“All of it, Linda.” He pulls back just long enough to answer, then his lips find my neck again. “I’m busy.”
Her footsteps retreat down the hall.
His mouth comes back to mine and I stop thinking about anything else.
I burst out laughing against his lips, my whole body shaking. “You didn’t even come up for air to answer her.”
“I told you, you’re my priority now.” He grins against my mouth and finally gets the clasp open with one hand. “I meant it.”
“You’re ridiculous.” I pull his shirt the rest of the way off and toss it behind him, and it takes a stack of papers off the shelf on the way down.
“Probably, yeah.” He leans in to kiss my neck again but I stop him with a hand on his chest.
“Hands behind your back.” I say it softly, watching his face. “Keep them there until I tell you otherwise.”
He doesn’t hesitate. Just puts his hands behind his back and looks at me, waiting, his eyes dark and focused on nothing but me.
I take my time with him. I trace the line of his collarbone slowly, letting my fingers trail down across his skin as I go.
I drag my nails down his stomach and feel the muscles tighten under my touch.
I press my mouth to his chest and feel his heart hammering against my lips while he holds perfectly still, his breath going ragged, his arms tensed with the effort of keeping them where I told him to.
“You can say please if you want.” I murmur it against his skin, smiling.
“Please, Izzy.” He’s hoarse with it. “Please touch me. Anywhere you want. I don’t care. Just don’t stop.”
“Much better.” I free his hands and shove him down into his desk chair, standing between his knees.
I pull my shirt over my head while he watches me, and the way he looks at me steals my breath. Like he still can’t believe I’m here. Like he’s afraid I might disappear if he blinks.
“Come here,” he says, reaching for me.
“Not yet.” I put my hand on his chest and push him back against the chair. “Stay put.”
He stays, his hands gripping the armrests like he’s holding himself back.
I unbutton my jeans slowly, watching his face the whole time. His knuckles go white against the leather.
“Izzy.” His voice is already rough. “You’re killing me.”