Chapter The Secret Job
THE SECRET JOB - SNEAK PEAK
We sit in the car in silence for a few minutes as James begins the drive to Daylesford, a sleepy town of hot springs and countryside and then we both speak at the same time,
“You go first,” I say.
“No sorry, you speak,” James replies looking at me with a longing in his eyes I have never seen before.
They are asking me to choose him, not the eight men still cramming into my brain and my heart.
I knew it would be an experience spending seven days with eight men, but not once did I ever consider the pain of saying goodbye to them.
It’s not that I don’t want to go back to James, it’s just that there are a lot of feelings raging through me and I don’t know how to deal with them or what to make of them.
Where does that leave me and my husband when there are currently eight other men in our relationship?
“How was the week with the kids, did everything go ok?” I ask almost sheepishly. I don’t want to talk about my time away, not yet, I’m not ready to explore those feelings with James yet and judging by the look in his eyes, he knows that.
The 1.5 hours’ drive to Daylesford passes with light chit chat about the kids, James’ work, our families and just about anything other than what I have been doing for the past seven days.
It feels like a cloud is hanging low over our heads, the air feels thick with a tension neither of us is trying to break or even acknowledge.
When James pulls up to a cute, white-brick Victorian house garnished with beautiful flowers and bushes, I know this is exactly where I want to be.
I open the car door and eye the pretty house before climbing out as James climbs out and pulls our weekend bags from the car boot.
I follow James’ lead, and we walk through the iron gate and up the cobblestone pathway.
Keying a code into the lock, the shiny green door opens, and I follow James inside the quaintly decorated house and close the door behind me.
There is a long, chequered rug that runs the hallway but I don’t make it two steps from the door when James turns and the look in his eyes startles me still.
“Take off your clothes,” he says in a low, almost choked voice. His eyes burn into me and I startle at the heat blazing in them. Is it pain or desire I’m staring into?
I go to speak, open my mouth to say, “Jame—”
“Now,” he cuts me off.