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Phyllis usually noticed the fingers. Tonight she couldn’t tear her eyes from the bulge they accentuated as they pulled the fabric taut.
“Maybe just opened,” she said.
She had to get rid of him. Before she did something she’d really regret. Like beg him to stay. To join her in the bedroom. Or on the couch. Or even the floor.
Taking a knife from the kitchen, Matt went back to the spare room, which was now almost empty. He had the box open in no time and each of the pack
ages out and lying neatly on top of the dresser that was still in the room.
They were mostly toys for Bethany. And Alex and Mariah.
“We’re going to have to talk about it.”
Phyllis’s gaze flew to Matt’s. His words had startled her. Panicked her.
“Can’t we just pretend it never happened?”
He held her gaze, his far more steady and sure than hers. “I don’t know,” he said. “Can you do that?”
Phyllis looked away. She couldn’t stand there, catching glimpses of the man inside him, and lie.
“I can’t, either,” he said.
The words were too soft, too unlike him, for her comfort.
“Should we, um, go in the living room?” she asked. She wasn’t sure she wanted to return to the scene of the crime, but she had to sit down. He nodded and followed her there.
Phyllis sank into an armchair as soon as they reached the room.
Matt paced in front of her for a moment then sat on the edge of the couch, facing her. His knees were spread, his forearms on his thighs. His face, though lined with what looked like concentration, seemed more peaceful somehow.
Her stomach tensed. Her neck tensed. For the first time in more than a week, she felt as if she was going to throw up.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since last night.”
Phyllis merely nodded.
“You’ve given me a whole new way of looking at certain events in my life, a new understanding….”
“You’re a good man, Matt Sheffield, one who deserves a full and complete life.”
“It’s going to take more than a day or two to change almost nine years of conditioning, but the thing is, I can’t escape the possibility that you may be right. That with hard work and awareness, I may be able to have more of a life than I’d envisioned.”
Tears sprang to Phyllis’s eyes. Every bit of discomfort she’d put herself through last night—every night since she’d met him—was worth those two sentences he’d just uttered. “I’m glad,” she told him. “So glad.”
“And the logical conclusion following the first is that maybe I’ve found that life. Or it’s found me.”
Her breath caught in her throat.
“Oh?” she said when she was able to.
“Look at us, Phyllis,” he said, warming to his subject—and scaring her to death. She’d been afraid us was what he’d meant by finding his life. “We not only get along well, we work together well. We enjoy each other’s company. After all these weeks of living in each other’s pockets, we haven’t gotten tired of each other. And we have two children on the way. That’s no small thing.”
Not much of a declaration of undying love, but the words meant more to Phyllis than any declaration would have.
Which made it that much harder to shake her head. “I’m not in the market for either a relationship or a father for these babies.”
“We’re attracted to each other.”
