She cut herself off, and the resulting silence was suddenly very loud.
I considered her swift apology, the way she’d acted like I’d caught her doing something wrong. Not for the first time, I wondered what had happened in her marriage. If that asshole had hurt her, physically or otherwise. If he’d been selfish with more than just his love. I already knew he’d been critical of his wife. I worried that was why Bonnie constantly felt the need to be perfect all the time.
After six slow breaths that steadied my surging anger, I asked softly, “Did that use to bother your ex? When you had trouble sleeping?”
“Yeah,” she finally replied, voice small. “I guess I just got used to leaving the bedroom and coming out here. It was easier to avoid the fight.” My pulse thundered at her choice of words, a storm gathering. Then she added hastily, “Notfight. That’s too strong for what it was. Mostly passive-aggressive stuff. But Danny didn’t understand why I couldn’t just sleep, you know. I’d get an exasperated sigh or an annoyed huff before he’d roll over. Sometimes he’d stomp out and go watch TV. It was better to just slip away to the couch and avoid that. I’d usually fall back to sleep at some point.”
I thought about the guy who came into my bar—again this past Thursday night—to pick up women. The corny lines and the same ill-fitting blue button-up on a tall, reedy frame. The misplaced confidence. The ego. The smarmy smile below a too-thin mustache. The spineless piece of shit who’d thrown Bonnie away for what? Freedom? To fuck any woman who’d take him?
I wondered what had happened between them. Why couldn’t Bonnie get over him? Why would she still take him back if she could? From everything she’d said and everything I’d heard, it didn’t sound like there was much to miss.
It seemed a little like admitting defeat or showing my hand. Something that made me more vulnerable than I wanted. But I asked anyway. “Bonnie, what happened with your ex?”
Her throat moved against me as she swallowed hard. “He cheated.”
I felt it like a punch, validation and anger swirling together and forcing me to take a steadying breath. I’d speculated, of course, but hearing her admit it was worse. I could only imagine how difficult that must have been—still was—for someone like Bonnie. A person so loyal and steadfast. Someone who I could never envision making that sort of mistake.
“It was a while ago,” she explained quietly. “Last fall ... at a bachelor party.” Her laugh was bitter, all sharp edges and resentment. Nothing like the woman I’d come to know. “Cliché, right? He told me right away. Apologized and said it was an accident. That he’d been drunk, and it never would have happened if he’d been sober. We tried to move on and get past it. But I just ... couldn’t. I couldn’t forget. I wasn’t strong enough to let it go.”
My thumb had been rubbing circles on her arm, just beneath the sleeve of the shirt she wore. But at her admission, I settled my palm against her shoulder and pulled her tighter into my chest. “I’m sorry that happened. It couldn’t have been easy. But I don’t think it had anything to do with you being weak, Clyde. Everyone has deal breakers. Their lines in the sand. No one would blame you for wanting a divorce because?—”
“He asked for the divorce,” she interrupted, and the rest of my words caught in my throat. “It was him. He got tired of waiting for me to get over it. I took too long. Danny said I was punishing him. But I just couldn’t stand the thought of him touching me after what he’d done with someone else. So he decided enough was enough.”
I worked to make my voice even. “I see.”
Maybe Bonnie hadn’t been able to move past her husband’s infidelity, but clearly she was trying since she still wanted him.Her words came back to me, the misery in her voice, the tears she’d cried on my lap all those weeks ago. The whole reason she’d gotten drunk and emotional in the first place.I don’t want to move on. It feels too big. How could I throw away something I spent half my life building and just start over?
She missed her life, and she’d been willing to fight for it. The divorce hadn’t been her call.
Anger and jealousy twisted something ugly inside me. It made sense that Bonnie hadn’t been able to justget overDanny’s deception. Because when I thought about that asshole, his hands on her and the life they’d built together, all the years and the history, it made my jaw clench. I hated it. Couldn’t fathom that she’d wasted so much time on him.
He wasn’t worthy of her love or all the devotion Bonnie carried around with her.
Danny’s not here, I reminded myself. Not anymore.
She had me. In her bed. In her home. In her life.
Our relationship had drifted like a boat on open water. I knew that we’d wandered past casual into something ... more. Something unexpected and a little bit frightening. Because for the first time in my life, someone had the power to hurt me.
“Come back to bed,” I urged. “We’ll think of three things. And if that doesn’t help you fall asleep, you can read all you want. It won’t bother me. Just come lie down.”
“Okay.”
Bonnie let me lead her back to the bedroom, but before she could climb under the blankets, I stopped her. Reaching down, I lifted the hem of my tee shirt up and over her head.
“Three favorite places to be kissed?” I asked, my voice low in the darkness.
Her breath hitched, but I was already reaching for her hand and bringing it to my mouth when she replied, “The inside of my wrist.”
I tasted the delicate skin there. Pressed my tongue against her as she ran her fingers through my hair.
Then I slid my hands over the smooth skin of her waist and leaned in to place a sucking kiss beside her collarbone. “Second favorite.” It wasn’t a question.
“Right there,” she breathed, her pulse fluttering beneath my lips.
I was painfully hard inside my boxer briefs—the only clothes I wore. Bonnie’s hand gripped the waistband as she pulled me closer.
“Last one?” I whispered against the shell of her ear.
