The Marriage Of Inconvenience

He leaned back into the cushions, putting some distance between them. “I remember you’ve never had a problem being bold.”

She cleared her throat. “Then we have changed after all. Because I certainly don’t feel that way now.”

“Perhaps I’d better go.”

“Are you walking out on me? Just because the conversation has gotten a little serious? Again?”

His laugh was sharp. “Now, that’s an interesting question. If I recall, I asked you to come with me. As long as we’re remembering, we may as well be accurate.”

She sighed, trying to find a way to explain how difficult such a move would have been for her back then. “There was no easy way for me to do that. You don’t understand. And you didn’t then either.” She noticed his fingers tighten around the glass and worried it might snap in his hand.

“So it would appear.”

“Besides,” she continued, “things had gotten bad for us way before you took the physical steps out the door. We had my father set against our union from the very beginning. And we were both much too focused on our professional careers. I regret that.” She decided to take a chance and move forward with her next question. “Why didn’t we try harder, R.J.? Why did we let outside forces drive such a wedge between us?”

He stiffened ever so slightly and set the glass down hard on the coffee table. “What does it matter now? We have to take care of this one scenario, and then the past will be dead and buried.” He paused, then added, “Once again.”

Angeline felt the mask of neutrality she’d put up begin to crumble, and she tried to hold on to some semblance of control. Why did his nonchalance hurt so much? It didn’t take a genius to realize he wanted out as things had gotten difficult. Granted, her father’s behavior toward him had been reprehensible, down to promising to cut her off entirely if they did get married. A threat her father had followed through on. Well, she’d prove to Richard Scott that she didn’t need his money to be successful. He didn’t have a right to meddle in her life the way he had with R.J. She couldn’t let him get away with what he’d done to alienate her husband from the very beginning.

In the end, her father had won. Her marriage had crumbled. R.J. had walked away.

Angel hadn’t seen or spoken to her only parent since. Unable to forgive and forget, she refused to contact her father. Not that he’d bothered to make any contact either. Apparently they were stuck in a stubborn standoff to see who would blink first. She vowed that it wouldn’t be her.

In a daze, she nodded. “You’re right, R.J. I agree,” she lied. Her voice sounded strained even to her own ears, and she glanced at him to see if he’d noticed.

A wave of sorrow struck her for what she’d lost. Her eyes moved over his face of their own volition. Nostalgia for days gone by engulfed her, and she found herself moving closer toward him into the sofa.

His low voice reached her through a dense fog. “It was nice while it lasted. But it’s ancient history now. It doesn’t make sense to dwell on the past. We got married way too young. Neither one of us was ready for such a commitment.”

The words barely registered. “Mmm, it was nice, though, wasn’t it?” Just for a moment she allowed herself to remember the sweet, not the bitter.

Nice was a drastic understatement for the way things had been between them. They’d had everything a young couple could want. Almost.

“We were good together, weren’t we?” She wanted him to say it, needed to hear him agree.

She saw something flare in his eyes and instantly recognized the familiarity of old longings.

So much time had passed, and she’d missed him. Her mind may have ignored it, but her heart had ached all the while he’d been gone. But he was here now, and he was so close. She could smell the sweet woodsy scent of the imported wine on his breath. His familiar cologne triggered long-forgotten memories in the back recesses of her brain.

Her gaze settled on his lips. Firm and full, the way she’d remembered. Would they taste the same? Would his skin hold the same texture and warmth it had years ago?

The pounding of her heart grew painful. She watched as he lifted his hands up to reach for her. What would it be like to feel his touch again? She knew the reality would blow away even the dreams she’d had every night since she’d last seen him.

The heat of his hands burned through her silk blouse as they settled around her shoulders, his touch gentle, yet strong. She moistened her lips and moved into him. All she’d have to do was reach for his mouth with hers. She inclined her head, mindless now, and ready to take what she so desperately wanted.

He started to speak, and anticipation assaulted her. He had to acknowledge the magic their marriage had once held. Despite the bitter and swift ending, despite the searing pain of loss, he had to agree that they had been happy together as man and wife once.

She wanted to taste him again, wanted his mouth on hers like they’d never been apart. She reached for him.

His lips moved. “Don’t.”

He said it in a strained, barely audible whisper, but the single word struck her with the force of a physical blow.

His command echoed through her desire-fogged mind, and she froze. Yanking herself out of his grasp, she turned away from the tightness in his face.

Shaking with embarrassment, she kept her back to him. Dear heavens, she’d just tried to kiss her estranged husband. And he’d literally pushed her away. “Perhaps you had better leave after all.”

There was rustling behind her as he stood.

“Angel, you don’t—”

She didn’t let him continue. “I’ll see you tomorrow, R.J. Thanks for taking time to come out tonight. By this time tomorrow, it will all be over and we can both pretend this never happened. None of it.” Was she trying to reassure R.J. or herself?

She heard him let out a deep breath and moved her head sideways but couldn’t bring herself to face him. He patted the sleeping dog, then made his way to the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” he said.

For one final time, she thought, and a sharp hurt sliced her heart.

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