“When are you going to stop wearing that ring?” he asked as she lined up a shot.
“Does it bother you?”
He shrugged and placed his beer on the bar. He wore a pair of worn Levi’s and a ripped-up tank top. His hair was disheveled from her fingers and he looked good enough to lick up one side and down the other. “It’s a constant reminder that you’re Virgil’s wife.”
She set the club in a rack and turned to face him. “Obviously, that bothers you.”
“I think it would bother most men. I’m having sex with you, and you’re wearing another man’s ring.”
She looked into his blue eyes, brittle with anger, and she didn’t understand it. “Virgil’s only been dead two months.”
“Exactly. You can come here and have sex but you can’t take off that damn ring?”
“I already feel guilty about the sex, Ty.” Suddenly she felt naked and exposed and she moved past him toward her dress, lying on his couch. “He was my husband for five years.”
“He was your roommate.”
“He took care of me.”
“He bought you because he could.”
“Well, I sold myself to him.” She grabbed the dress and turned to face him. “Which makes me no better than him.”
“You weren’t the one in the relationship with all the power. He was.”
Which was true. She and Virgil had been friends and gotten along very well, but he’d always been in charge. “He was good to me. Better than any man I’ve ever known.”
“Then the men in your life must have sucked.” He folded his arms across his chest.
That was true too.
“He’s gone, Faith.”
“I know.” She pulled her dress over her head and shoved her arms in the short sleeves.
“You don’t owe him anything.”
“That’s easy for you to say.” Her hands rose to the buttons on the front. “He left me enough money to take care of me for the rest of my life. He left me his hockey team, for God’s sake. And every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m betraying my husband.” Her fingers fumbled with the button. “I feel guilty as hell, but I feel the most guilty those times when I’m not feeling guilty at all.” She looked up at him. “Maybe Landon was right about me. I am a shameless gold digger. But I don’t even mind being called a gold digger. It’s the truth, but I thought I’d outgrown being shameless.”
“If you were shameless you wouldn’t be standing here freaking out.” He shook his head. “You’re thirty years old. You’re young and beautiful, and you’ve been living on a shelf. Jesus, you’ve been celibate for five years. You shouldn’t feel guilty about wanting to live again.”
“I
was living. It’s just not a life you approve of.” She looked into his still angry eyes. “Most of my life I’ve avoided feeling bad about the things I do. Most of my life I
was shameless. I always did whatever it took to survive, and most of the time, I didn’t feel bad. But being with you isn’t about survival. It’s about feeling good. It’s about risking my reputation, what little I have, and your career, and being so selfish I do it anyway.”
He took a few steps toward her and grabbed her wrists. “Don’t go.”
“Tell me why I should stay.”
“Because despite the possible damage to my career and your reputation, I’m selfish as hell and want you here. It would be easier if I didn’t, but I stopped fighting it weeks ago.”
She dropped her hands to her sides and looked up into his face. The stitches had been taken from his brow, and he was left with an angry red line at the corner of his right eye. For how long would he want her? How long could it all last? she wanted to ask him. Instead she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his solid chest. His heart beat strong and steady against her cheek as his hand moved up and down her back. And it felt so good standing there, her body pressed to his, feeling his warm, soothing touch. She could almost make herself believe that it wouldn’t end in disaster.
Tomorrow night was the first game against the Penguins. She would think about that and not the ache in her chest and the clog in her throat. She would worry about their defensemen and not about the fear twisting her stomach. The truly horrifying feeling in the bottom of her soul that the unacceptable had happened. Despite all good reason and sense, despite everything they had against them, she’d fallen completely in love with Ty Savage.
For the first time in five years, her wedding ring felt like a heavy weight on her finger. Suddenly it didn’t feel right that she should wear one man’s ring when she was in love with another.
When she returned home early the next morning, she took it off and placed it in her safe next to the other jewelry Virgil had bought for her. The beautiful stones in the safe glittered in the light, but failed to give her the warmth and comfort they’d always provided. Her hand looked naked without the heavy diamonds, but it felt lighter, freer, and right. As if it was truly time to let go of the past and Virgil.
The rest of the day, she tried not to think about her situation with Ty. She was just going to live in the moment. It would last as long as it lasted. Yet, in a small corner of her heart, she hoped that everything would work out somehow. That they would find some way to be together, but in her head she knew that wasn’t realistic. This relationship was doomed to end in heartache, but perhaps if she was careful, maybe she wouldn’t lose her whole heart to him. If she was careful, maybe she could guard one last piece.
But later that afternoon, a package arrived at the penthouse that stole any remaining piece of her heart that didn’t already firmly belong to Ty.
The box was wrapped in white paper with a big pink-and-white-striped bow. Inside the polka-dot tissue paper lay a pair of pink patent-leather ice skates with gold blades. Size seven. The same size as her red Valentino pumps.
The card simply read I’ll catch you when you fall. It wasn’t signed but she knew who’d sent the skates. She sat on the couch with the box in her lap. Her eyes filled with tears and the back of her throat felt hot and scratchy. She tried unsuccessfully to blink back the moisture in her eyes, but she was no more successful at that than she was holding back the swell of her heart. She was in love with Ty. It was impossible. Inappropriate, and she didn’t feel good about it. Not the kind of good that falling should feel like.
“What’s that?” her mother asked as she walked into the living room.
Faith ducked her head. “Nothing.”
“It’s obviously not nothing.”
She brushed her wet cheek against the shoulder of her BCBG T-shirt. “Someone sent me skates.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Really? How long do you think you can keep this up?”
“What?”
“Your secret relationship with Tyson.”
Faith looked up and stared at her mother, a vision of blurry zebra-print pants and black tube top.
“I’m not stupid, Faith. Neither is Pavel. We know you two sneak around and meet each other in private. We’ve been trying to stay out of your way.” She handed Faith a tissue from the box on the end table. “Dry your eyes. Your mascara will smear.”
Faith took the tissue and dabbed at the corners of her eyes.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come to me and talk to me about it.” Valerie sat on the couch and Pebbles jumped up beside her. “I could help. Maybe give you motherly advice.”
“No offense, Mom, but you’ve been married seven times. What advice could you give about relationships?”
Pebbles curled up by Valerie’s side as if to say that she was the favored daughter. “Well, I could tell you what mistakes not to make. Like never get involved with a married man. They rarely leave their wives. Despite what they say.”
“That really doesn’t apply here, Mother.”
“That’s true.” Her hand dropped to Pebbles’s fur and she stroked the dog. “Or sailors. Those men dock at different ports around the world and they all seem to just love the hookers. Nasty bastards.”