Fleeting Moments

“Not anymore,” I say desperately, hating myself for needing him so much.

“Honey,” he murmurs.

“Just admit it. Tell me you feel whatever this is between us, too.”

His looks away for a second, and I reach up before thinking and take his jaw in my hand, turning his face back to mine. Then I lean closer and press my lips against his. He makes a sound deep in his chest and his hand tightens on my waist, and for a second, I think he’s going to kiss me back. His mouth parts, my tongue grazes his, and heat explodes between us.

But he pulls back.

“I don’t feel it,” he says, placing me on the couch. “I can’t do this. You’re married, and I’m not that man. I’ve never been that man. You think you want this, Lucy. But you don’t. I have to go.”

I sit on the couch, shame filling my chest, stretching out to every nerve ending. I can’t move. I’m horrified.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. “Really fucking sorry.”

Then he’s taking his bag and leaving.

Again.





CHAPTER 11


My feet drag as I walk to my front door, hearing the voices trailing out from inside. Gerard is here, and so is his sister, Heather. I don’t know if I can handle them. I’m tired, I’m confused, and after last night, I don’t know where my head is at. My hair is a mess, my clothes are daggy, and I feel like utter crap. Still, I walk into that house and face whatever they’re going to thrust at me, because that’s what I have to do.

Mostly, I have to do the right thing.

“He’s upstairs.”

I flinch at the harsh sound of Heather’s voice and turn to see her standing in the kitchen, a box in front of her, pulling coffee mugs out of our cupboards. Those are mine, dammit. Her eyes pierce mine, the same shade as Gerard’s. Her hair is down, cut in a short, straight style. It rests on her shoulders, but it makes her look like a stuck-up snob. Wait—she is.

“Great,” I mutter, turning in the direction of the stairs.

“He deserves better, you know.”

My body freezes, and I turn to face her. “Listen, I know you don’t like me, Heather, and believe me the feeling is mutual, but this isn’t my fault. I didn’t ask to see what I saw that day or to be involved in it. I had no choice.”

“No, you didn’t have a choice, and it was an awful thing to happen, but you did have a choice on how you behaved after it.”

“I lost my baby, saw something horrific, and was traumatized—how would you have me behave?” I snap.

She crosses her arms. “We accepted all of that, but the mention of this man who we all know wasn’t there . . . you chose to push that and in doing so, push your husband away.”

“That’s none of your business,” I growl.

“Enough.”

I turn and see Gerard standing at the base of the stairs, staring at me. “Heather, can you please give Lucy and I a moment?”

Heather glares at me, then nods and informs him, “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

She disappears out the front door and I focus back on Gerard. “Hey,” I say softly.

“Hey. Listen, can we sit and discuss all of this?” He’s acting emotionless.

I guess that’s how he has to be. I nod.

We both move into the living area and sit on the sofa. Neither of us says much for a while, but eventually, Gerard speaks. “How are you?”

“As well as I can be.”

“You don’t look well.”

“Our marriage ended. I’m hardly doing cartwheels.”

“You think I wanted to just walk away? Jesus, Lucy. You’re my wife, but I couldn’t take it anymore. It’s not fair on either of us.”

“I respect that, but I was suffering,” I say, and my lip quivers. “And instead of having my back, you tried to tell me I was crazy.”

“You were talking about a person that doesn’t exist. I couldn’t just sit back and let that go on. I don’t know what you wanted me to do?”

“He’s real, Gerard. I don’t have to prove that to you, because I know what is and what isn’t. That’s why I’m here—because I have to tell you something.”

He looks to me like he feels sorry for me.

“He visited me last night at my hotel.”

His mouth tightens.

“And . . . I kissed him. Not just then, but a few days before, too. I’m sorry. I thought you had the right to know.”

He’s quiet for a long time, and I feel awful. I know we’re separated, but we’re still married and I shouldn’t have done it, even if I wanted to.

“Gerard,” I say after a few minutes.

He’s staring straight ahead, his face blank. Then, abruptly, he stands.

“Gerard!” I exclaim. “I’m sorry. I’m just trying to be honest.”

He spins and pins me with a glare. “You’ve completely lost it, Lucy. I can’t stand around and watch it anymore. I can’t sit here and watch you actually act like you’re having a relationship with this man.”

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