weâd separated. I could have been listening to her private messages this entire time for all she knew. There was one message from Bill Parsons, our youth pastor, asking about Benji, and one from Marnie, asking Kyra to pick her up from the airport that evening. Apparently her fashion-scouting trip had come to an end. Since I had to get to Marnie before Kyra did, I had no choice but to meet Delta flight 8319 at five fifteen.
I set the phone in my empty ashtray and shifted into drive, watching the cat watch me drive away. Thinking of the convoluted web I was weaving, I was more unsure than ever how to proceed with the medically-prescribed charade, or even if I should.
Nothing had prepared me for the raw pain of being thrust into the past. Of being looked at once again by my wife with eyes of love. Over the years her feelings for me had seeped out in such a slow trickle, the leak was hardly noticeable, until the pool lay completely dry. Seeing it full again made me desperate to dive in. I hadnât realized just how much I missed those waters. How much I missed her. But that wasnât my motivation for keeping her in the dark. I wanted to protect her. She was vulnerable, and I was still her husband. At least for a little while longer.
If only her accident had happened a year ago, or even a few days ago, how differently our lives might have turned out. I never would have believed how quickly she could stir up the old feelings in me with just one bat of her lashes.
Maybe she could forgive me too. A spark of hope ignited inside me as I turned left out of our neighborhoodâuntil words spoken long ago echoed in my ears: âSamurai, Iâll give you everything, forgive you anything . . . except that.â
Had she considered for one second that someday it might be her in need of forgiving?
Bloomless crape myrtles lined the side of the road, their multistemmed trunks reaching from the ground like gnarled fingers. I pulled along the shoulder and stopped beside them. A truck flew past, making my SUV tremble in its wake. I draped my arm over the steering wheel, lay my head down, and did what I had not allowed myself to do since my marriage fell apart. I cried.
What was I going to do? I had to tell Kyra the truth before someone else did. Of course, no oneânot even her sister, Marnieâknew that Iâd gone to bed with Danielle. Sure, Marnie might remind her of our e-mails, either unknowingly or, in her case, probably knowingly, but she couldnât fill her in on what she didnât know herself.
Kyra obviously had no recollection of the damage either of us had caused. What if she never did? I tilted the rearview mirror and checked myself. My dark eyes were puffy and red-veined, but theyâd clear up on the drive to the dealership. After a Mazda Miata shot by, I adjusted the mirror, then eased onto the road.
I lowered the window, letting the morning air lap my face. How had I gotten myself into such a mess? Maybe it would turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Stranger things had happened. Maybe Kyra would never remember what I wished more than anything I could forget.
The double yellow lines splitting the road blurred into one as I stared at them. Even if she never figured out how far weâd strayed, I still had Danielle to contend with. I knew all too well how unpredictable a woman scorned could be. If I could explain things, make her understand the delicate situation and how sorry I was, maybe . . . just maybe . . .
Ten
âDanielle, you have a minute?â
Her pouty lips curled into a sly smile, reminding me why I had been attracted to her. Part cheerleader, part sex kitten, she did have a way. I motioned for her to come in. Her gaze traveled the length of my body as she sauntered past. I eyed the windows making up the far wall of my office. Nothing like trying to have a private moment in a fishbowl. Even if the showroom staff could see our every move, at
I set the phone in my empty ashtray and shifted into drive, watching the cat watch me drive away. Thinking of the convoluted web I was weaving, I was more unsure than ever how to proceed with the medically-prescribed charade, or even if I should.
Nothing had prepared me for the raw pain of being thrust into the past. Of being looked at once again by my wife with eyes of love. Over the years her feelings for me had seeped out in such a slow trickle, the leak was hardly noticeable, until the pool lay completely dry. Seeing it full again made me desperate to dive in. I hadnât realized just how much I missed those waters. How much I missed her. But that wasnât my motivation for keeping her in the dark. I wanted to protect her. She was vulnerable, and I was still her husband. At least for a little while longer.
If only her accident had happened a year ago, or even a few days ago, how differently our lives might have turned out. I never would have believed how quickly she could stir up the old feelings in me with just one bat of her lashes.
Maybe she could forgive me too. A spark of hope ignited inside me as I turned left out of our neighborhoodâuntil words spoken long ago echoed in my ears: âSamurai, Iâll give you everything, forgive you anything . . . except that.â
Had she considered for one second that someday it might be her in need of forgiving?
Bloomless crape myrtles lined the side of the road, their multistemmed trunks reaching from the ground like gnarled fingers. I pulled along the shoulder and stopped beside them. A truck flew past, making my SUV tremble in its wake. I draped my arm over the steering wheel, lay my head down, and did what I had not allowed myself to do since my marriage fell apart. I cried.
What was I going to do? I had to tell Kyra the truth before someone else did. Of course, no oneânot even her sister, Marnieâknew that Iâd gone to bed with Danielle. Sure, Marnie might remind her of our e-mails, either unknowingly or, in her case, probably knowingly, but she couldnât fill her in on what she didnât know herself.
Kyra obviously had no recollection of the damage either of us had caused. What if she never did? I tilted the rearview mirror and checked myself. My dark eyes were puffy and red-veined, but theyâd clear up on the drive to the dealership. After a Mazda Miata shot by, I adjusted the mirror, then eased onto the road.
I lowered the window, letting the morning air lap my face. How had I gotten myself into such a mess? Maybe it would turn out to be a blessing in disguise. Stranger things had happened. Maybe Kyra would never remember what I wished more than anything I could forget.
The double yellow lines splitting the road blurred into one as I stared at them. Even if she never figured out how far weâd strayed, I still had Danielle to contend with. I knew all too well how unpredictable a woman scorned could be. If I could explain things, make her understand the delicate situation and how sorry I was, maybe . . . just maybe . . .
Ten
âDanielle, you have a minute?â
Her pouty lips curled into a sly smile, reminding me why I had been attracted to her. Part cheerleader, part sex kitten, she did have a way. I motioned for her to come in. Her gaze traveled the length of my body as she sauntered past. I eyed the windows making up the far wall of my office. Nothing like trying to have a private moment in a fishbowl. Even if the showroom staff could see our every move, at
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