Gideon walked in just as I answered, “You’ve got a date.”
He stood just inside the door with his jacket slung over one arm, the top button of his dress shirt undone, and a briefcase in his hand. His mask was in place, showing no emotion whatsoever at finding me sprawled on his couch in his T-shirt with a glass of his wine on his table and his television on. He raked me with a head-to-toe glance, but nothing flickered in those beautiful eyes. I suddenly felt awkward and unwanted.
“I’ll get back to you about the other ticket,” I told Shawna, sitting up slowly so I didn’t flash him. “Thanks for thinking of me.”
“I’m just glad you’re coming! We’re going to have a great time.”
We agreed to talk the next day and hung up. In the interim, Gideon set his briefcase down and tossed his jacket over the arm of one of the gilded chairs flanking the ends of the glass coffee table.
“How long have you been here?” he asked, yanking the knot of his tie loose.
I stood. My palms grew damp at the thought that he might kick me out. “Not long.”
“Have you eaten?”
I shook my head. I hadn’t been able to eat much all day. I’d gotten through the session with Parker courtesy of a protein drink I’d picked up during my lunch hour.
“Order something.” He walked past me toward the hallway. “Menus are in the kitchen drawer by the fridge. I’m going to grab a quick shower.”
“Do you want something?” I asked his retreating back.
He didn’t stop or look at me. “Yes. I haven’t eaten, either.”
I’d finally settled upon a local deli boasting organic tomato soup and fresh baguettes—figuring my stomach could maybe handle that—when my phone rang again.
“Hey, Cary,” I answered, wishing I were home with him and not about to face a painful breakup.
“Hey, Cross was just here looking for you. I told him to go to hell and stay there.”
“Cary.” I sighed. I couldn’t blame him; I’d do the same thing for him. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Where are you?”
“At his place, waiting for him. He just showed. I’ll probably be home sooner rather than later.”
“You kicking him to the curb?”
“I think that’s on his agenda.”
He exhaled audibly. “I know it’s not what you’re ready for, but it’s for the best. You should call Dr. Travis ASAP. Talk it out with him. He’ll help you put things in perspective.”
I had to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I’m— Yeah. Maybe.”
“You okay?”
“Ending it face-to-face has dignity, at least. That’s something.”
My phone was pulled from my hand.
Gideon held my gaze as he said, “Good-bye, Cary,” then powered off my phone and set it on the counter. His hair was damp and he wore black pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips. The sight of him hit me hard, reminding me of all that I stood to lose when I lost him—the breathless anticipation and desire, the comfort and intimacy, the ephemeral sense of rightness that made everything worthwhile.
“Who’s the date?” he asked.
“Huh? Oh. Shawna—Mark’s sister-in-law—has concert tickets for Friday.”
“Have you figured out what you want to eat?”
I nodded, tugging at the thigh-length hem of my shirt because I felt self-conscious.
“Get me a glass of whatever you’re drinking.” He reached around me and picked up the menu I’d set out on the counter. “I’ll order. What do you want?”
It was a relief to move over to the cabinet that held the wineglasses. “Soup. Crusty bread.”