Secrets In The Marriage Bed

Pushing aside the blanket, she got up and padded down the wide hallway to the kitchen. The romantic glow of the moonlight streaming through the windows seemed to mock her as she pulled a carton of milk from the fridge. Pouring some into a glass, she replaced the carton and put her cold fingers to her eyelids.

A creaking noise came from the hallway and a second later, Caleb entered the kitchen wearing only a pair of black boxer shorts. “What are you doing up?” His voice was rough, his hair mussed.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She raised her glass in explanation. “Do you want some?” Caleb stood only a few feet from her and yet miles away. She didn’t know if she had the courage to cross the divide.

He merely raised an eyebrow at the offer.

Finishing her drink, she put the glass in the sink and rubbed her hands on the thighs of her flannel pj’s. “Did I wake you?” Was she going to pretend that he hadn’t left her naked and alone in bed? Continue living her life in a fantasy world? Or was she finally going to say what needed to be said?

“No.”

God, he was so beautiful to her and she was so afraid to touch him. Swallowing, she crossed the cool tiles until she was less than an arm’s length away. “I guess you have a busy day tomorrow. You should try to sleep.” Why couldn’t she say what she so desperately wanted to say?

She tried to force the truth out, fighting years of being told that passion and desire were dangerous and destructive. Words bubbled up in her throat but no matter how hard she pushed, fear kept her lips from shaping them into sound.

Something like disappointment flickered in Caleb’s eyes but she couldn’t be sure in the semidarkness of the room. He simply moved to let her pass, then fell in step behind her. She heard him enter the guest bedroom a few seconds after she’d shut the door to the master bedroom and slumped against it.

More tears burned at the back of her eyes, mute evidence of her frustration and anger. What was wrong with her? Was she so cowardly that she couldn’t even take the necessary steps toward saving her marriage? Was she going to settle for this half-life, with her husband thinking she couldn’t bear his touch?

So angry with herself that she wanted to scream, she forced herself to remember each moment of the two months she’d spent alone in this house. Every single day she’d come into this bedroom, crawled into this bed and hungered for Caleb. She’d slept on his side of the mattress, worn his old shirts, spent entire nights dreaming of his loving.

Was she willing to go back to that existence? Because she knew without a doubt that her husband wasn’t going to return to her bed unless she convinced him she needed him desperately. She’d hurt him too much.

It was the thought of Caleb in such pain that straightened her defeated posture. Taking a deep breath, she tucked her hair behind her ears and opened the door.

Caleb’s own door was open and she knew why. Even in his anger, he wanted to be able to hear her if she needed him. It was a good sign, she told herself as she walked in. He was lying on his side facing away, but she knew he heard her come in even though he didn’t move. For the first time in their married life, Caleb had turned his back to her.

Fighting the hot rush of fear, she crossed the endless carpet and sat on the other side of the bed. As soon as she touched the mattress she knew she was making a mistake. There was only one way she could reach Caleb—she had to stop protecting herself. She moved to lie beside him, her head nestled in the hollow of his back, one hand on his waist.

“What are you doing here, Vicki?”

She’d never heard him sound that harsh, that unwelcoming. It shot her confidence to pieces but she was here and if she could come this far, she could keep going. “You walked away without letting me explain.”

“What’s there to explain?”

So much, she thought desperately, that she couldn’t find the words for. “I didn’t know,” she whispered. “I didn’t know you thought I didn’t want you. I swear, I didn’t know.” She’d thought she was doing something wrong and had tried to control her own reactions so as not to offend him, not realizing she was taking the worst possible action.

Caleb didn’t reach out to gather her into his arms as he had so many nights in the past. She ached to be held. But it wasn’t easy for a woman who’d spent a lifetime hiding her emotions to lay them out in the open.

“Now you do.”

And the next step was hers.

The thing was, Vicki didn’t know how to take that next step, didn’t know how to fix this broken bridge between them. She’d never confided in him, never once taken the chance of putting her pride, her heart, her deep insecurities on the line.

“You have to help me,” she whispered. If she was going to lose her husband, it wouldn’t be because she’d been too afraid to chance her heart. “I can’t do this without you.”

At last, he turned. But he didn’t hold her, instead propping himself up on his elbow. “We’ve had enough lies between us. Just tell me the truth. Why?”

Why did you marry me if you can’t stand my touch?

The words he’d spoken in anger earlier whispered around the room, a silent third party to this painful conversation.

“I love your touch,” she repeated her own words. But this time when he began to move away, she grabbed his shoulder. “Don’t. Don’t, Caleb.”

It was the break in Vicki’s voice that halted Caleb. He knew she was fighting tears. No matter how much it hurt him to lie beside her knowing she felt nothing for him when he burned for her, he’d do it if it would stop her from crying. He had no defense against her tears, not when he knew exactly what they cost her.

In the early days of their marriage, she’d once confessed that she didn’t cry because as a child, her tears had been the only thing over which she’d had any control. No matter what she’d said or done, her grandmother had never been able to make Vicki break down.

“I’m here,” he said. “Don’t cry, honey.”

“I’m not crying.” Her voice was raw. “I just need to say this. I’ve been trying for so long.”

“What?” Giving in to his own need, he drew her into his arms. She came without hesitation, spooning her back to his front. The familiarity of the gesture was bittersweet. Vicki didn’t mind his embrace. All those late nights when he’d finally slipped into bed, she’d sleepily scooted nearer so he could tuck her close.

“The way I am in bed…it’s not your fault.”

What was he supposed to make of that?

She took a deep, halting breath. “Grandmother…”

The abrupt change of topic threw him. “What about her?”

Caleb didn’t particularly like Ada Wentworth, even though the old woman had introduced him to Vicki and given her smiling blessing to their union. He’d known that Ada had chosen to overlook his lack of breeding only because of his increasing wealth and connections, but it hadn’t mattered. Despite the ten-year gap in their ages, he’d fallen headlong for Vicki.

She put her hand over the arm he had around her waist. “She said—She said that the reason my father left my mother was because my mother was a s-slut. A w-whore who’d spread her legs for any man who asked.”

Caleb bit off a sharp curse. “How old were you?” He knew she’d been sent to live with Ada at four years of age, soon after her parents, Danica and Gregory Wentworth, had divorced.

“I can’t remember the first time, but I grew up with her voice in my head telling me ‘like mother, like daughter.’ I guess I must have been very young when she started. There was never a time when I didn’t know what Grandmother thought of Mother and what she’d think of me if I ever strayed out of line.”

He was rocked by the viciousness of the wounds Vicki had hidden inside herself.

“And she said,” Vicki continued before he could speak, “that unless I was the perfect model of a wife, you’d leave me, too. She told me that men don’t want their wives to be w-whores. If I wanted to keep you, I had better make sure I always acted like a lady, not a slut.”

She was killing him. “Vicki—”

“When I was ten, my father married Claire. She’s so perfect, sometimes I don’t think she’s real. It’s as if she has ice running in her veins. I’ve never seen her show any powerful emotion. Grandmother used to tell me, ‘Look at Claire and now look at Danica. Men sleep with sluts, but they marry women of breeding.’ I believed her.”

Caleb wanted to strangle Ada. “I married you,” he said, trying to cut through her pain. “I never asked you to be anything other than the woman you were.”

“That’s just it, Caleb.” Haunting sadness laced her tone. “You were so proud to be marrying the woman Grandmother had made me into, the woman I was when we met. So proud of the way I talked and acted. I wanted you to love me so I tried hard to continue to be that woman even though she wasn’t really me.

“And all the time, I knew I wasn’t giving you what you needed but I didn’t understand what it was that I was doing wrong. I kept trying harder and harder but no matter what I did, you kept moving further away from me. Then one day I realized that if I tried any harder to be someone I wasn’t, I’d disappear forever.”

Stunned, he put both hands on her shoulders and tugged her onto her back with him braced over her. She tried to avoid his gaze but he put a finger on her jaw and applied gentle pressure until her eyes met his. “You don’t have to act a certain way to prove yourself to me. The only thing I ever wanted was for you to drop your shields and let me in.”

Her eyes widened at his husky words. A hesitant hand rose to touch his cheek and he felt his whiskers scrape her skin. He used to shower and shave before coming to her, wanting to be what he’d thought she needed.

“Really?” Doubt continued to throw shadows over her expression.

Understanding, he stroked the hair off her face. “Don’t you think I could tell what Ada had tried to do to you? What attracted me to you was your spirit, your refusal to be crushed by her. I was so goddamn proud to have you as my wife. You, not the well-bred, elegant doll.”

“And I was proud to have you as my husband.” Vicki’s hand slid to rest on his shoulder. “Proud of what you’d achieved through sheer determination. Did you know I used to brag to the other wives about your successful cases? Sometimes, I’d go sit in the back of the courtroom to watch you work and think, he’s mine.”

Caleb’s whole world changed in that instant. “Vicki,” he whispered. No one had ever been proud of him. His family came to him for money but not one of them had ever said, “Well done, Caleb, well done.” Not one of them had ever come to watch him defend a case. And not one of them had ever been so proud that they’d praised him to others.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head. “I’m as much to blame as you. I pushed and pushed like I always do.” As a child, belligerence had been the only way he’d been able to make his father, Max, “see” him. As often as not, his stubbornness had sparked Max’s temper, but back then Caleb had been desperate enough to value any connection with the man. The experience had scarred him, made him emotionally aggressive when dealing with the people who mattered to him, with Vicki.

“And I let you,” she added, taking a burden that should never have set on her shoulders. “Every time I tried to speak about it, I’d get so nervous and when you began to soothe me and say we could talk about whatever it was later, I’d agree. But later never came.”

Caleb wasn’t going to allow her to let him off the hook so easily. “Honey, I knew you wanted to tell me something…” I just didn’t want to hear it. I thought,” he dropped his head and owned up to his colossal blunder, “that you’d tell me you didn’t want to be in bed with me. So I tried to change your mind each time.” Another assumption, he realized, beginning to see the pattern in his dealings with Vicki.

Her eyes were huge. “What happens next?”

“I want to be married to you, Vicki.” Nothing subtle would work now. “Do you want to be married to me?”

The pause was minuscule. “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Yes.”

It wasn’t the avowal he’d been looking for. But it was better than her earlier statement that they were still separated. “Then giving up is not an option.” It had never been for him. And despite Vicki’s ambivalence, he didn’t think it had ever been for her, either. If it had, she would have taken his key when she’d kicked him out and refused to see him those times he’d come over or invited her to lunch. But she hadn’t.

“Caleb…” She put a hesitant hand on his upper arm. “Do you want…? We can try again.”

The vulnerability he could see shattered him. He knew that right now, he could ask for anything in bed and she’d try to provide it. But he didn’t want his wife giving in to him because she was laboring under a burden of guilt. He wanted them to bridge this distance in the bright light of day.

“All I want is for you to sleep in my arms.” He dropped a soft kiss on her lips. It was one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Part of him—the part that had been deprived for years—whispered that he should take this chance, that it might never come again, that this emotional woman in his arms would be gone when morning arrived, replaced by the cool, elegant lady he barely dared to touch.

Troubled eyes met his. “Caleb, I can…”

“Hush.” He moved onto his back, pulling her against his chest. “Sleep. This is enough for tonight.” Despite the desperate voices urging him to take what she was trying to offer and not look back, he knew he spoke the truth. His wife was used to keeping her emotions well under control. And yet she’d come to him tonight.

Finally, she’d come to him.

Five

Vicki woke to the sound of Caleb showering. As always, she fantasized about going into the bathroom, stripping off her clothing and joining him in that steamy enclosure. What she’d give to run her hands over his soap-slick skin, to explore his beautiful body as she wished. But as always, she got out of bed and went to put on the coffee instead.

“One day,” she muttered under her breath as she set the coffeemaker. “One day soon.” She’d love to shock Caleb by joining him. He’d never expect that. And he was probably right—she didn’t have the kind of sexual confidence it took to approach a man naked and vulnerable, assured that he’d accept, not reject, her silent invitation.

Getting the bread out of the pantry, she was struck by the appearance of her hands—the oval nails polished a pale nude color, the tasteful wedding band that was her only jewelry. It seemed to her that she was exactly like her hand—well polished, boring and without character. Not a woman who did exciting things like surprise her husband in the shower.

The scent of Caleb’s woodsy aftershave warned her that he’d entered the kitchen. Without thinking about it, she turned and blurted, “Am I boring, Caleb?”

His eyes widened. “You might be a lot of things, honey, but boring isn’t one of them.”

“Tell me one thing I’ve done that’s been out of the ordinary.” She put the bread on the counter and frowned. “One thing I’ve done that you never expected me to do.”

“You asked me for a divorce.” He grabbed a couple of slices of bread and put them in the toaster. “Then you told me to go sleep in the guest bedroom—surprised the hell out of me and not in a good way.”

She breathed in the just-showered scent of him and wanted nothing more than to pull him down by that sedate navy tie and plant a shockingly raw good-morning kiss on his lips. Caleb had always looked good in a suit. “Hmm,” she said, staring at him as he reached up to get mugs from the upper cupboards. “Caleb?”

He put two mugs on the counter. “Yes?”

“Are we going to ignore last night?” She couldn’t bear to pretend anymore. It was as if once she’d ripped open this scar she had to keep pushing at it to see how much it hurt, to check if it had healed any.

He faced her, tall, strong and masculine to the core. When she thought he’d speak, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. She melted into him, clutching at his waist to keep herself upright. Usually Caleb let her control their kisses, but today he was kissing the thoughts right out of her head.

When they came up for air, his eyes were filled with a thousand emotions. “What do you think?”

Barely able to breathe, she pointed to the toaster. “Your toast’s ready.”

For some reason, that made him smile. “I made you a piece, too.” He buttered the toast and put it to her lips. “You’re eating for two now, Mrs. Callaghan.”

The unbearably Caleb statement, care wrapped in action, made her smile. And that was how she sent her husband off to work. For the first time in a long while, they laughed as they kissed each other goodbye, looking forward to the night to come.

Once Caleb had left, Vicki went through some catalogues for the university and a nearby technical college. It had come as a rude shock during the separation to realize that without Caleb, she was a woman who did nothing useful, nothing that made her proud. With no client dinners to organize or cocktail parties to attend, no suits to be dry-cleaned, no husband to mess up the pristine house, she’d been slapped with the fact that part of her anger at Caleb came from her own uninspiring existence.

Her husband was a dynamo in the legal world, respected by colleagues and competitors alike. And what was she? A finishing school-educated woman of twenty-four. She kept up with Caleb by reading business journals voraciously so she could discuss things he was interested in. But how long would that sustain them? How long until it became clear to him that she had nothing original to contribute to their lives?

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