“No,grazie.”
He did not know why he had gone to the bar with no intention of having a drink. Alcohol had been the source of comfort for many years, but while Henry desperately wanted to numb the painful thoughts, he did not want to drink to forget.
He wanted to remember every detail of his night with Ellie. Every inch of her smooth skin, every sigh and moan. The taste of her lips, the smell of her arousal. The sensation of her flesh quivering around him, driving him so wild he barely pulled himself from her before finding his own release, so powerful he wondered if he would ever recover.
And when he lay at her side, his body pulsing from the pleasure of his climax, already craving more, more of her touch, her sounds, her ecstasy.
More of her.
Henry had been about to say it, the words bouncing off the walls of his mind. A scoundrel knows never to make declarations in the wake of lovemaking, but with Ellie it had been different. No,life-changing.She had ruined him, devastated him. And he knew, without an ounce of doubt, he could never be without her. He loved her.
But, idiot that he was, he left Claire’sletter on his desk. He couldn’t risk explaining his plan yet, not when everything with Ellie was… Over. He was a fool wanting more, for thinking what they shared was special. He had been good for a night of pleasure, but nothing more. Just as he always had been.
Perhaps just one drink, a few ounces of whiskey to take the edge off the pain. Henry lifted his finger when someone sat beside him and patted him on the shoulder.
“What’s your drink?”
Henry sighed, surprisingly grateful for Miles’s presence. “Nothing tonight.”
Miles scoffed. “Then why are you at a bar?”
“That’s a good question.”
Nodding, Miles waved for the bartender. “Cedrata,per favore.”
Within a moment, Henry had a tall glass full of yellow soda in his hand and took a deep drink of the tart and refreshing liquid. “Thank you,” he said with a nod.
“Do you not drink?” Miles asked without a bit of judgment in his tone.
“I need to be clear-headed to think properly.”
Miles sipped his beverage, something orange and sparkling, before giving Henry an assessing glance. “Would you care to share the burden of your thoughts?”
Henry never shared his thoughts. Whenever he tried, the listener would laugh, assuming he was joking about the worries that kept him awake at night, the insecurities plaguing him. Instead, he kept his mind closed off, guarding his thoughts from the judgment of others.
But where had his quiet gotten him? Thirty years of age with no direction, no relationships that weren’t superficial. No future.
“It’s Ellie,” he mumbled.
Miles gave an indistinct sound of acknowledgment, and the moment of commiseration, the mutual understanding and acceptance of his troubles, felt like a burden being lifted off Henry’s shoulders.
“Things are… awkward between us,” Henry hedged, wishing Miles would guess the truth of their situation without pressing for too many details.
“In what sense?”
Damn. “I hope you won’t think less of us, but…” Henry exhaled. “Ellie and I are not married.”
Miles shrugged. “You seem to enjoy each other’s company too much to be married. Alice and I assumed you were lovers escaping your spouses.”
Henry’s eyebrows nearly reached his hairline. “You did?”
“Of course you’re lovers. You won’t stop staring at her as though she’ll disappear at any moment. Time is precious when you have to steal it.”
And time was running out for them. Henry shifted in his seat, swirling his fingertip through the condensation on his glass. “Obviously, we didn’t cover our tracks well.”
Miles gave him a wry smile. “When you’ve carried on a clandestine relationship, you learn to see the signs.”
A weight settled low in his stomach, thinking of Alice and her clear affection for her husband. A husband who apparently was not faithful to her.
