1
That Romantic Dinner in Winter
Erin
My husband ignored me.
Candlelight flickered in grim shadows, and a wailing cello announced my grand entrance at the restaurant. The combination created the perfect ambiance to capture the mood of my crumbling marriage as I walked to the table near the back. Even my dress matched the occasion—funeral black satin. The split up the thigh added a little more spirit, though.
Just in case.
I stopped beside Jeremy. The pop of my hip was deliberate. I wanted him to notice me, but the wine list had his undivided attention. He didn’t look up.
“You’re late,” he said.
It was just after eight o’clock. Despite his last-minute dinner invitation and a frantic call to the babysitter, I was on time. But I said, “Sorry,” and bent over to kiss him. He turned his cheek,and an unwanted red smudge stained his beard until he lifted his napkin to swipe away any sign of my affection.
“They don’t even have a decent Grenache here,” he muttered.
Six years ago, when we’d first met, Jeremy would have leaped to his feet, falling over himself, begging me to join him. He was older than me, of course. He was handsome, too. Yet, back then, he wasn’t so self-assured, and the attention of a woman like me was something he had to earn. He had competition. I had options.
Tonight, Jeremy wore a more expensive suit, and if I were lucky, I’d see his heart-stopping smile. But now, I wasthe wifeand about as captivating to him as the chair he didn’t bother to pull out for me.
“Maybe we could try a white wine tonight?” I edged my chair closer to his before sitting down.
Jeremy’s short “Hmm” was more uninterested than thoughtful.
“A Riesling?” I suggested.
He flipped to the next page of the wine list.
I unfolded the napkin and spread it over my lap with trembling hands. Uneasiness was becoming too familiar. How long had it been since Jeremy stared at me with so much longing that my stomach tumbled? Was it before Matilda was born? That was almost three years ago. Our wedding? Four years ago. Before he’d finished his training to specialize as a psychiatrist? Five years ago. Longer? Would I need to hunt for that giddy feeling all the way back to when we’d first met?
But I wasn’t about to let the rest of the world know how much his indifference hurt me. I did what any self-respecting woman would do—I hid the pain underneath a smile he didn’t see.
“I’m excited you organized a date night for us,” I said.
Jeremy leaned back, and finally, he forgot about the menu, and his dark eyes focused on me. His expression was blank. He said nothing.
“It’s been a long time since we’ve gone out to dinner.” I dialed up my smile now he was paying attention to me. “Just the two of us.”
“I don’t think anyone diningherewould appreciate Matilda’s singing, do you?”
Snooty diners who enjoyed cello music while gazing over the river? I grimaced. “They might…”
Jeremy’s eyebrow rose. It wasn’t an unexpected reaction. He enjoyed telling people he was a father, but he seemed less interested in actually beingone. Tiny handprints on the glass coffee table and squeals that interrupted him watching tennis weren’t appreciated. He’d never gotten used to having a toddler around the house.
The slump in my voice matched my shoulders. “Her songs about bath time are adorable.Goggles on…” I sighed. “Bottom in…”
This was hopeless.
I twisted the napkin in my lap. How much longer could I pretend everything was fine between us? Why was I even here? The cocktail dress was too much—even for this place. I’d wasted half an hour frying my hair from a dull brown board into glamorous waves, and I’d even squished my body into lingerie I hadn’t worn since Matilda was born.The black lace was snug, and my belly spilled over the waistband of the panties, but the set still fit. A twist back and forth in the mirror had convinced me I still looked sexy, even if the quick and careless fumbles our sex life had become hadn’t left me feeling very desirable.
I dreaded lifting my eyes to meet the cold stare of a man I used to believe loved me. “Jeremy, why did you ask me to dinner tonight?”
“I wanted to talk to you…”
“About what?”
