Susan Mallery - Wife in Disguise

He paused and listened to the sound of his own breathing. Talking about it like that brought back a lot of the emotions from that time in his life. He didn’t like the remembering or the feelings. He’d put all aspects of his marriage behind him, yet it oddly felt so close tonight.

“At the risk of offending you,” Rose said, “she sounds like a selfish person.”

The statement made him mildly uncomfortable. “Maybe. Maybe it was how she was raised. All I know for sure is I wanted us to be a team, to learn how to communicate like rational people. She wanted…”

His voice trailed off as he realized he didn’t know what Josie had wanted from him. “Maybe she was too much like her father, or maybe I wanted someone to treat me like my mom treated my dad. Maybe it was a personality thing and we never had a chance. I don’t know. But she’s gone now, and it’s good that we’re apart. I have a lot of regrets from that time in my life, but being divorced from Josie isn’t one of them.”

Rose busied herself collecting their plates and dropping them into one of the bags. She seemed stiff, almost embarrassed. Del wondered if he’d said too much.

“More of an answer than you want?” he asked.

She gave him a smile that seemed more pain than humor. “Not at all. I appreciate your candor.”

He wanted to believe her, but he wasn’t sure he could. “What about you? What’s your story?”

“I, um, was married before.” She cleared her throat. “Nothing much happened. I guess we drifted apart over time. Like you and your ex-wife, we were young. Sometimes that makes things more difficult.”

Del had the sense that something was wrong. “Did I offend you with what I said?”

“Not at all.” She touched a hand to her stomach. “I’m suddenly not feeling very well. I guess it’s all the activity from the week catching up with me.”

Del immediately stood. Disappointment passed through him. While he hadn’t expected anything to happen between them, and even though he’d been telling himself that a personal involvement with a client was dumb, he had secretly hoped that he might get a chance to kiss Rose. Maybe just a quick goodbye peck as he left. But he could tell from the lines of tension around her mouth and the white cast to her skin that she was very close to being ill.

“Are you going to be all right by yourself?” he asked. “Should I call a doctor?”

“No. It’s not serious. I just need to rest a little. I’ll be fine in the morning.”

He wasn’t sure he believed her, but didn’t think he should push the point. So he gave her a nod and headed for the door.

“I’ll be around all weekend,” he said, as he paused in the foyer. “Page me if you need anything. Even if it’s just to talk because you’re tired of your own company.”

“I will,” she murmured, but he sensed she was lying. “Good night, Del. Thanks for dinner.”

He hesitated before letting himself out. Waiting, he guessed, for Rose to change her mind and invite him to stay. But she didn’t, so he stepped out into the night and wondered what had happened to shift things between them. Obviously, he’d said too much about Josie. But it wasn’t just that, he thought as he climbed into his truck and started the engine. He had the sense of having been close to something significant and then of missing the point completely. But for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what he hadn’t been able to see.

Josie sat on the sofa and listened to the sound of the door closing behind Del. She was glad he’d seen himself out because she wasn’t in any shape to stand or walk or even pretend at social niceties. Her mind was racing, and there was a knot in her stomach the size of Montana. She felt hot and cold and mostly she felt sick.

Humiliation filled her. Sticky, thick humiliation. She wanted to run and hide. She wanted to turn back time and never have come back to Beachside Bay. She wanted to throw something, anything just to relieve the tension building inside of her.

She lifted her hand as if to do that, only to realize there wasn’t anything worth throwing. The unused paper plates on the small, folding table in front of the sofa wouldn’t be very satisfying. And if she let the Chinese food rip across the room, she would only have to clean it up later.

“Damn,” she whispered and covered her face with her hands, wishing for once that she was the crying kind. Maybe tears would help. But she couldn’t force them. No matter how she strained, her eyes remained dry. She’d never been one for sob fests.

Everything hurt. Her body, her heart and especially her soul. She felt battered all the way down to her bones. How could Del have said all those things about her? Worse, how could he have thought them? Did he really think she was so blindly selfish? That she wouldn’t compromise? That she’d cared more about winning than their marriage?

He’d compared her to Aaron. The memory made her shiver. She hated anyone thinking she was like her father, even if it was true. She made a low sound in her throat and hugged her arms to her chest. That’s what hurt the most, she realized. That it was all true.

She squeezed her eyes more tightly closed. She’d been a bad wife and partner. There was no way to sugar coat reality. As much as Del’s assessment ripped her apart inside, she couldn’t say he was lying. She hadn’t wanted to be horrible. She’d wanted to be gentle and kind and loving. She just hadn’t known how.

Josie shifted until she curled up in a corner of the sofa. Memories from the past washed over her. She let them come, watching them like some strange, twisted movie of which she was the star. She wanted to turn away-to hide from the truth-but the past year had taught her there was no way to do that. If she didn’t feel it all now, she would feel it all later. There was the possibility of postponement, but there was never any escape. The event, be it a therapy session or a recounting of her past, had to be endured in order for her to be healed.

Things had gone wrong from the beginning, she thought sadly. Del had been right when he’d said he wanted June Cleaver for a wife. She’d been stunned when he’d told her he expected her to do all the cooking and cleaning and to take care of him the way his mother had. She’d proudly announced that she wasn’t anyone’s slave and if there was going to be service provided in their house it would be to her. She’d been horrified by his insistence, and he’d been stunned by her refusal. They’d argued for days. Eventually Del had come to her with a compromise.

Josie opened her eyes and stared unseeingly at the empty room. Tonight Del had claimed that she had needed to be right, regardless of the cost to the marriage. That she hadn’t been willing to bend or admit they could both be wrong. She wanted to protest that statement, to tell him that she had met him halfway. That many times she’d been the one to come up with a better way for them to do things or to get along. Except she hadn’t. Not even once. She’d wanted everything to go her way.

She recalled how Del had carefully divided the chores between them. With the hindsight of years and maturity she recognized for the first time that for a man like Del-raised by a woman who had catered to his every need-offering to take over half the household chores was a big step. She saw now how he’d really listened to her complaints and had realized that he was being unreasonable. She’d resisted his division and had refused to do her share unless they were doing the work together. She’d been so worried about not doing one lick more than was necessary.

Tonight he’d accused her of being unreasonable. Of needing to win every fight. It wasn’t enough for them both to have been wrong-she had to be right. She winced as she remembered screaming at him, slamming doors and walking out. Just like her father.

How she hated the comparison to Aaron. Yet she knew that his stubbornness, his strength that he’d passed on to her, were the reasons for her determination and victory in her recovery. She wouldn’t have survived the past year without being so tough and unyielding. But what had served her well after the accident had been the downfall of her marriage.

I have a lot of regrets from that time in my life, but being divorced from Josie isn’t one of them.

His words echoed inside her brain. She’d come back for closure. She’d come back for some kind of connection with Del and maybe to find a piece of her whole self to blend with the broken person she’d become. Yet he wasn’t interested in anything like that. He’d put her behind him and had no intention of turning around for a second look. She’d been thinking they could have made it if only she’d been different. He’d been thinking he’d made a lucky escape.

She wasn’t sure what to do with all this information. She felt small and ugly-as if she wasn’t the kind of person anyone would want to be around. She wished she’d never bought the Miller house and was sorry she was going to have to see Del again. Josie wanted to run away. But she wouldn’t. Although she hated the pain, she would endure it. She would see this situation through to wherever it ended, and then she would move on to the next chapter of her life. Because she wasn’t a quitter.

Josie bent over and collected her cane, then rose to her feet. She wanted to stick the leftover Chinese food in the tiny refrigerator and then head up to bed. Maybe she would feel less disgusted with herself in the morning.

As she reached for the bag of food, the room seemed to tilt and swirl. Walls shifted, furniture moved until she was back in time…standing in the house she and Del had bought the second year of their marriage. She could see him walking through the door, a bag of Chinese food in his hand. They’d been fighting a lot lately and he’d suggested takeout as a way of making peace. She’d been out running and had been home long enough to shower, but not dress.

He’d taken one look at her wrapped in a towel and nothing else. A light had flared to life in his dark eyes. A heated flame she recognized. Instantly there was an answering blaze in her own body. Despite all their problems, they’d always found a way to connect on a very physical level.

“Take it off,” Del had growled at her.

For once she didn’t mind taking orders from him. Slowly, almost defiantly, she’d pulled the tucked end free and let the length of terry cloth fall to the ground. Slowly, proudly, she sauntered toward him, holding his gaze with her own, stopping only when she was within grabbing distance.

He hadn’t disappointed her. He’d dropped their dinner without a second thought and had reached for her. Within seconds she was hauled up against him, their mouths crushed together, their bodies straining. He’d been instantly aroused, as had she. While he’d teased her breasts and nipples until she’d been mad with desire, she’d managed to open his belt and unzip his jeans.

He turned so that she was pressed against the door. He grasped her bare rear with his hands and pulled her up to his waist. She wrapped her legs around his body to hold herself secure. He’d fumbled with his clothing, pushing down his jeans and briefs, then guiding himself into her. She’d been wet to his hard-ness, throbbing with need, begging him to take her.

They’d made love there, against the door. Wildly, impulsively. Kissing, biting, straining until she went first, leaping into the vortex of release, her strong, fast contractions pulling him over the edge as well.

Josie straightened and leaned on her cane. The memory receded, but the sensations of that night did not. She could still feel the cool of the wooden door on her bare back and Del’s heat as he’d filled her. Desire made her ache in a way different from her constant pain. She forced herself to pick up the leftovers and take them to the kitchen. Once there she put them away and then headed for the stairs.

As she gazed up at what seemed like a man-made mountain she would have to climb, a sense of hopelessness settled over her. Del would never be interested in her that way. Not sexually. She’d been kidding herself about seeing any kind of interest in his eyes. But even if her greatest fantasy came true and he did find her appealing, what could she do about it? Her body was broken. While she was in the process of recovering, she would never be the same. She would never have the strength or flexibility she’d had before. She couldn’t make love against a door. The hot, animal sex that was so a part of their marriage was lost to her forever. She would have to worry about being careful, of supporting healing body parts and weak areas. She would be so different.

Josie began to climb the stairs. With each step she reminded herself that pity was a one-way street to disaster. She was determined to keep on healing, to get better. But the memories were especially heavy tonight, as was the realization nothing would ever be the same for her again. Not with her body and not with her relationship with Del.