Noel felt the tears slipping down her cheeks and didn’t bother wiping them away. “I know.”
“Two years. It’s been two years now you’ve tried and been miserable. Two years of your life you can’t get back. Now, I’ll be the first to applaud you for your tenacity and love and devotion to the guy. You gave it your best shot. But, honestly? You’re starting to slip from tenacious into blind martyrdom, and that’s not healthy for you or for him.”
Noel knew all of that. It wasn’t anything she hadn’t already told herself.
But to finally hear someone else say it…
“I know.”
“Obviously, it’s your life. What kind of life is it? Neither of you are living authentically at this point.” She leaned in and hugged Noel. “I’m always here to talk if you need me. Okay?”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Eliza waited until Noel was inside her front door to back out of the driveway. Inside the empty house, Noel stood there and looked around.
It felt different.
Yes, she could tell herself Scott was just at work, but she knew that was a lie.
Just like her life was a lie.
She didn’t even bother turning the lights on. She locked the door behind her, dumped her purse on the table in the entryway, and headed toward the bedroom to get a shower.
* * * *
The next morning, Noel lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was a little after five in the morning.
Unfortunately, she wasn’t the kind of person who could sleep late on the weekends. She hadn’t had enough to drink the night before to give her a hangover, unfortunately.
Then at least she would have had an excuse to stay curled in bed in a fetal position and ignore the papers she’d brought home that needed to be graded.
With a resigned sigh, she climbed out of bed and went to start the coffee. Today, she suspected, she’d need the whole damn pot.
Throughout the night, she’d tossed and turned, trying not to think about the fact that Scott wasn’t at work.
That he was out. Probably with someone.
Her reasoning being that if he wasn’t with someone, he would have called her, chatted with her, or at least texted her more. She’d vowed not to be uber-clingy wife, to not text him every ten minutes.
She had a life besides him. She did. A job, friends, hobbies. She wasn’t some weak woman who considered herself the half of a whole. By herself, she was a complete person. It wasn’t healthy to look at things any other way than that.
But Scott was a huge part of her life and one she wasn’t looking forward to losing, either.
After the coffeepot was burbling, she retrieved her phone from her purse.
No texts.
Not that she’d expected any. Scott, with his years of crazy scheduling, could drop off to sleep in minutes, and sleep late if he had a day off. She envied him that ability.
Especially now.
I wonder what he’s doing.
She eyed her messenger bag sitting on the floor in the foyer, where she’d dumped it yesterday after getting home from work. In it, at least three hours’ worth of work.
I guess I’d better get on it.
Returning to the kitchen, she grabbed her mug, fixed herself a cup of coffee, and headed back to the living room to get to work.
Chapter Eight
Scott felt a moment of disorientation when he awoke a little after seven Saturday morning in the hotel bed.
Especially when he felt the warm, hard body pressed along his back, an arm draped over his waist.
It took every ounce of will Scott had not to snuggle against the man’s body.
They’d talked last night into the wee hours of the morning before making love again. This time, actually making love, not just a Sir and his boy. And Keith had gone down on him, making him come again, in a condom but still damned good.
They had a lot in common. Too much, almost. In a good but scary way.
It almost felt like Scott had met a long-lost twin.
He also knew just walking away from Keith wouldn’t be possible. This wasn’t a simple weekend fuck.
This was the start of something real.
That it felt very much like what he’d felt for Noel when he’d first met her scared him even more, because he realized that truly signified the beginning of the end of them. Of their marriage and the life they had together, the past.
It meant she’d be forced to start over, facing her asshole family alone.
Maybe we could just fake it. Not tell them about the divorce. I could go with her at holidays and pretend we’re still married so she doesn’t have to listen to them. Unless she meets someone else.
In a way he felt guilty over having nudged her—okay, pushed her—into a dominant role for the past two years. She’d tried. Tried damned hard, out of love and the desire to make him happy.
It wasn’t her fault it hadn’t been enough. The problem had been his, not hers.
The more he’d talked with Keith about that, spilling things to him he hadn’t been able to talk to anyone else about, the more the realization struck him that the sacrifices Noel had made for him over the past couple of years, since he’d admitted to her he was gay, spoke to the depths of love she had for him.
He felt like a real shit for doing that to her without realizing the silent price she was likely paying.
Behind him, Keith stirred, pulling him closer, his hard cock nestled along the seam of Scott’s ass. “Good morning,” he mumbled, nibbling on the back of Scott’s neck.
Scott closed his eyes, sucking in a slow, deep breath. “Good morning, Sir.”
Keith patted him on the abs, where his hand rested. “Keith and Scott this morning, at least until after breakfast. I want to talk some more. Okay?”
“Okay.”
Keith made Scott roll over to face him. He had brown eyes, not like Noel’s, a different shade. Hers contained flecks of amber and green, while Keith’s were dark, like mocha, or rich, creamy coffee.
Keith laced fingers with him. “We need to go out and find breakfast. I’d rather eat off-property so you can relax while we talk.”
“Okay.”
“And there’s an Army-Navy store I want us to hit so we can get you a pair of boots.” He smiled. “You need your own.”
“Okay.”
“What’s wrong? Regrets?”
“Yes. Not about this,” he quickly added. “I guess it’s finally slammed home how unfairly I’ve treated Noel.”
“Not knowing her, based on what you’ve told me, it sounds like she made the sacrifice willingly enough.”
“I didn’t really give her much of a choice. I sort of sheepdogged her into it.”
“Still, she’s an adult. And she did let you come here this weekend.”
“I know.”
“Another hard question,” Keith said. “When do I get to meet her?”
“I hadn’t planned that far ahead yet.”
“If we’re going to be dating, I need to meet her and talk to her, face-to-face, at least once. I need her to tell me she’s okay with what we’re doing. Not that I don’t trust you, but this won’t work with us sneaking around.”
“I don’t want to be in her face with this.”
“That’s not what I want, either. I personally think that under the circumstances it would be cruel to be in her face. But that talk needs to happen, sooner rather than later. I’m not saying you have to leave her or divorce her right now. We still don’t know for sure yet what’s going to happen between us the more we get to know each other. I won’t, however, be your piece on the side.”
“I can’t go flaunting you around to my coworkers.”
“Did I say that? No. I need you to be able to tell her you’re going out with me, or whatever code you two come up with for you going out with me, or spending the night with me, without you having to lie to her. If it means we have to back off sex and just date for a while until your situation is resolved with her, we’ll do that, too.”