The Second Time is Sweeter, page 15
As she heard him light the stove, pour, and stir, a sense of warmth and comfort came over her. He couldn’t cook much, but damned if that soup out of a can didn’t always taste so much better when he heated it up. He’d always taken good care of her. They’d taken care of each other. Until, of course, he gave up on her. By the time he brought her the soup in a bowl, she’d worked up a whole different kind of feeling.
She stirred the soup, the smells of chicken broth rising out of the steam. It was way too hot. “I’m mad at you.”
“For making soup?” He frowned.
“You know why.”
He groaned. “I don’t like to play this game.”
“This isn’t a game. It’s my life.”
“Mine too. This is everything. Spell it out for me.” He sat next to her on the couch and stretched his long legs out in front of him. Hershee, maybe sensing he might want to take her spot, growled at him in warning.
“You left me.”
“No, you left me.”
Sophia blew out a breath. They could keep this up all night long. “You made the choice.”
“Let’s not do this all over again. Maybe we were stupid to get married so young—”
“Stupid?” Her heart sliced open with the painful cut of his words. “I don’t want to hear this. You regret marrying me.”
“Never. I regret I rushed you and asked for something you weren’t ready to do.”
“I was ready to be your wife.”
He didn’t answer but only studied her. “Eat.”
She took a bite somewhat automatically and felt immediately annoyed with herself for obeying him. “You’re bad for me. So bad.”
What she didn’t say was that he’d somehow become nothing but a constant reminder of loss. Pain. Of a fear so overwhelming and raw it threatened to take over everything in its path.
“It’s kind of like this. I can’t have Chunky Monkey every day of the week. It’s called willpower. So even if I’d like to, I can’t. And when I’m on a diet, it’s better if I don’t have any in the house.”
He moved closer, so that his shoulder bumped hers. “What do you want? Vanilla?”
“Not vanilla.” She took another sip, moved her legs, and Hershee jumped off her lap, disgusted with Sophia for not sitting still enough for Her Highness. “Maybe Neopolitan. It’s good enough but not so much that I want it every day of the week.”
“Everybody should indulge a little now and then.” Riley stood up, took Sophia’s bowl and set it on the coffee table.
He pulled her up off the couch by her elbows and the blanket fell to the ground at her feet. “Admit it. You’d like to eat Chunky Monkey every day of the week. And sometimes you catch yourself thinking about it in the middle of the day. Wondering how you could get away with it.”
“Maybe.”
She’d forgotten how perfect it felt to be this close to him, their breaths comingled. Without a doubt, she’d once known he would have breathed for her if he could. He would have once done anything for her.
“You want Chunky Monkey. Admit it.” He pulled her closer, until she could feel every hard ridge of his body against her and then he pulled her closer still.
“We’re not talking about ice cream, are we?”
“No.” He kissed her. Not a tender kiss at all, but rough and claiming.
Her hands fisted his shirt. How she’d missed him. No matter what, they’d always had this part right. Touching, feeling. She got lost in him again, the landscape familiar and comforting.
Then just as suddenly as he’d kissed her, Riley let go. “We need to slow down.”
She reached for him. “Stay with me.”
“If I stay, something is going to happen. I can’t keep my hands to myself.”
“I don’t mind.”
He chuckled and framed her face. “I need you to be sure.”
“I’m sure, Riley. I want this. I want you.”
“No,” he said and his hands dropped down again. “I need you to be sure about us.”
“Us?”
“You and me. Us. Forever. Can you tell me you’re sure about that?” He studied her.
“Listen, you and I …” Her voice drifting, she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“Yeah.” He moved away from her, picking his jacket up on the way to the door. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
“But—” Was he seriously leaving? Now? After all that talk about Chunky Monkey?
“Eat your soup,” he called out and shut her front door.
Sophia stood rooted to her spot, positive her jaw had lost all elasticity. Not even if you beg. She could hear his smiling, self-assured voice ringing in her ears. No way would she…no. She refused to beg!
All she could think to do was pick up her boot and throw it at the door.
CHAPTER 13
Outside Sophia’s house, Riley heard the sound of something hard hit her front door and he winced. Some things never changed. He definitely had a knack for irritating his hot-blooded Italian wife. And now, he had to do something with the rest of his evening when he’d planned on spending it with her. He couldn’t have foreseen that Sophia would be reminded of Nikki tonight, but yeah, Priscilla had introduced herself as Jennifer’s friend and come on to him at the bar. She already knew he was married. He wouldn’t have faulted her otherwise, but women who had no respect for marriage irritated him. Like Nikki. He’d pegged her as a girl on the make the moment he’d laid eyes on her but given how much Sophia seemed to love her, he’d decided to give Nikki the benefit of the doubt. And when she’d asked him to come find her if he ever got tired of perfect Sophia, it had taken everything in him not to kick her out of his house. Eventually he would have told Sophia the truth, but what had happened with David had derailed her enough that he couldn’t see adding to her misery when it no longer mattered.
Both Nikki and David were gone.
When Riley had returned for leave after David’s death, he’d found a different Sophia than the one he’d left behind. His curvy-in-all-the-right-places wife had lost a significant amount of weight. She had dark circles under her eyes.
The beginning of the end for them.
He shook his head. He didn’t want to think about any of that anymore. All in the past, he reminded himself. By every indication, Sophia looked completely recovered from what he’d put her through. Gained back weight, the color back in her cheeks and the shine back in her bright brown eyes. Back to being the girl he’d loved so desperately.
He had to blow off some steam and went home to change into sweats and running shoes. She’d be cooling off now next door, maybe even with some Chunky Monkey. Not the kind he’d been talking about but what the hell. She wanted him, and God how he wanted her. And here was the thing: she was still his wife. But if he made love to her now, would it be any different than when he was twenty-one and saw what he wanted, then went after her?
He liked to believe he was a better man and could take his time now. Do this right. He wanted reconciliation, and she needed time to forgive him for being an idiot. He got that. She saw danger, death, and abandonment in him. But she should see love. Loyalty. And if she’d had any doubts about that last one, he hoped he’d finally put them to rest tonight. She might open up her heart again when she realized he wasn’t going anywhere. Never leaving her again, no matter what.
Impervious to the chill that had descended on the winter night, he kept running. Rain predicted tonight. Good thing since they needed it. At the top of the hill, once he’d run approximately two miles, he stopped to take a breath and looked at his watch. Nine thirty. He should check in on Lucy, whom he hadn’t talked to in a few days.
“Hello, brother,” she answered after the second ring. “I’m still alive.”
“Great. What’s up with you?”
“Richard and I are getting along a lot better. You’d be surprised. He can really be nice and he’s sorry and all. Maybe we should all four go out to dinner sometime.”
Except for the fact that Riley would rather be roasted over a raging fire than expose Sophia to that man, sounded like a swell idea.
“Sure. Sometime.” He took a breath. “Thinking maybe it’s time for you to try rehab again, Luce.”
“You ought to know that never works. It’s a waste of your hard-earned money.”
“I don’t mind. And it never worked before because you always kept coming back to the same environment.”
“What else am I supposed to do? This is my home. Mom’s house. I can’t just move.”
“Right.”
But Sophia and all the so-called expert reality TV doctors were right that coming back into same old associations would almost certainly mean failure.
“I’m thinking maybe it’s time to get rid of the old house.”
“We can’t do that. This was our family house. We grew up here.” She actually sounded wistful.
Such great memories too. Sometimes it felt like he and Lucy had grown up in two different households. She’d lived in the one her Swiss cheese brain remembered, and he’d lived in the real one.
“Prices have gone up and some developer might want the house. You never know.”
“You’re probably right, but where am I going to live? With you and Sophia?”
He winced at the thought. “We’re not together.”
Lucy snorted. “It’s just a matter of time. You’ll get her back. Unless I’m living with you. I could be the reason you don’t get her back and I can’t live with that.”
Another ready-made excuse for Lucy. He didn’t believe that. It wasn’t in Sophia’s character. She’d be the one, in fact, to suggest it. If they were living together again, that was, and they were so far away from that he didn’t even want to think about it.
“You’re my sister. She’d understand. And anyway, you don’t have to live with me. I’m sure we can find you a place.”
Out of town. Maybe even out of state. Start over. But Lucy wouldn’t want to hear that. He wondered what it would take for her to realize she couldn’t get better. Not here.
“Don’t worry about me. I think I can do this on my own. I’ll do what the counselors at rehab told me to do. I’ll keep a journal and write down when things upset me. Triggers.”
“Yeah?” And then what, he restrained himself from asking. The coping skills seemed to be the missing part of the equation.
“Sure, bro. Don’t even give me another thought. Just get that wife of yours back.”
He told Lucy he’d check in again soon, hung up and ran halfway back, then slowed his roll. The run hadn’t achieved its desired effect of getting his thoughts off Sophia. He walked the rest of the way, hoping by the time he got home good sense would prevail because right now he was dangerously close to knocking on her door if the lights were still on. And he sensed they would be, even before he arrived.
What was he thinking anyway? He had a clear advantage in this situation. They were still married. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. He loved her. She’d get there in time. He just had to be patient. If he didn’t press his advantage, he could quickly lose footing to some other loser. Okay, fine, so he was thinking like a Marine. Kind of hard to switch gears sometimes. But he’d be a fool to let this moment pass.
He went home, took a shower, and thought it over some more. Part of the new him, or the new man he’d become. He changed into another pair of sweats. Still thinking about her. Was there shock therapy for this kind of thing? Enough. Before he could give it another thought, he found himself pounding on her front door. A minute later she opened it dressed in flannel PJs (clearly not expecting him back) and wearing an expression that read: you have two seconds to get this right.
He wasted none of them. “I changed my mind.”
In another second he’d stepped through the door and hauled her up in his arms. He pushed the door shut with his back, Hershee yipping and nipping at his ankles. He didn’t feel a thing, more of a nuisance than anything.
“No, Hershee!” Sophia ordered and the puppy, apparently wounded by Sophia’s harsh tone, went scurrying into a back bedroom.
Sophia wrapped her legs around his waist. “Aw. I love that you came back.”
He allowed himself to take this moment in, just a slice of time. They fit together so seamlessly and always had. He’d taken so much for granted in those early years, not fully realizing what he’d found. He might have been quiet too long because she met his gaze.
“What’s wrong? Change your mind?”
“Not a chance.” He grabbed a fistful of her hair. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Then too bad for you that I like that idea.” She slid down his body and stood before him on tiptoes, barefoot, so much smaller than him.
“I love you, Sophia,” he said and watched as the brown hues in her eyes shifted and changed. “I never stopped.”
“Oh, Riley.” She buried her face in his neck. “I want you to know. I’ve never cheated on you. We’re still married, and I’ve never been with anyone else.”
“Same here.” He tipped her chin to meet his gaze, her eyes suspiciously wet. “We’re going to take us slow. I’m not going to rush you. I’m not going to demand anything from you. And if I do, you’re going to stop me.”
She looked puzzled, squinting. “Yeah? But…we’re married. We may have rushed into marriage, but we sure didn’t rush out of it.”
“True, but I’m not taking anything for granted this time around. Not you, not us.” He gripped her elbows, pulling her to him. “I’m not going anywhere, baby.”
“I love you,” Sophia said, threading her fingers through his hair.
And with the sound of those words ringing in his ears, Riley took his wife to bed.
CHAPTER 14
When Sophia woke the next morning, she immediately recognized her own surroundings though something was different. Very different. It took her a minute because she almost didn’t recognize the feeling. Oh, yeah. She was…that’s right. Deliriously happy. Before she’d had her coffee, even.
But Riley was no longer lying next to her. A note on her nightstand read: I’m at work. See you tonight. Love, Riley. Then she vaguely remembered him kissing her goodbye this morning while still in a sleepy fog. Climbing out of bed, she threw a robe on and went to make the coffee. Hershee emerged from the spare bedroom with a slow trot, unsure of what she’d find.
Sophia filled Hershee’s bowl with her morning meal, then patted her doggie’s head. “And thanks for not barking all night.”
Oh, my. Riley loved her. He loved her! Her heart had jumped with the memory of those words.
“I missed you,” he’d said.
Her heart stuttered and one thread from the blanket sewn over her heart ripped off because, oh yes, she could admit to that. She’d missed him so much. Years of missing him had turned into a soft melody she heard only in the back of her mind when everything else around her was too quiet.
She powered up her laptop and went through her emails one by one. Mostly junk and some work emails from local vineyards. She went to update HootSuite with her new week’s posts for the restaurant, a real time-saver. Went to Facebook anyway and considered changing her status from “it’s complicated” to the truth: “married.” Then reconsidered because that would bring too much attention to it and probably a lot of well-wishers congratulating her on her marriage and asking about the lucky guy even though she’d been married eight years ago.
Coffee ready, she poured a mug and went to her accounting spreadsheet for the restaurant. She’d hired an accountant to take care of the major accounting and payroll, but Sophia did financial forecasts she’d learned at Berkeley. Staying open Monday was something she had to face at some point. It was no longer making any financial sense. Maybe she’d talk to Angie about it tonight and break it to her gently, even if Sophia hated the idea of cutting back on her employees’ work hours. The servers, especially, counted on every penny and were already short gratuities on Mondays. She didn’t like letting any of her loyal and hard-working employees down.
An hour later, Sophia was unable to concentrate any longer. Thoughts of Riley were impossible to keep at bay and she relived every moment of last night. All the sweet words he’d whispered to her all night long. How he’d missed her, how much he loved her. He hadn’t held anything back. He’d held her all night long. It hardly seemed possible that she’d missed so many years with him. Time they should have spent together. She should have tried to understand his dedication to the military. If only she hadn’t fallen apart with fear. If only she’d been stronger.
She shook her head. No more “if only.” She would move forward and stop regretting the past. Her phone pinged with a text alert and Sophia grabbed it hoping it was Riley. But no, it was Bruce, of all people.
I’m finally coming to see you.
Sophia’s fingers flew as she typed back as fast as possible: No. Please don’t. We broke up.
Not so long ago. I need to talk to you. It’s important. I can’t talk to anyone else.
He still hadn’t even sent a photo. Sophia was no longer even sure Bruce was a man, for crying out loud, much less a doctor. For all she knew, “he” was a bored teenage boy sitting in his parents’ basement somewhere out of state.
Here’s the thing, Bruce. I’m married.
So soon???????
Actually, eight years ago. She braced herself to be called all manner of nasty names by this possibly fake person she hardly knew.
Oh. So, you lied, too.
Cringing, she added: It’s complicated.
That’s not fair. He added a sad face emoticon. I really like talking to you.
Sometimes Bruce really did behave like a child. I’m sorry. We should probably stop.
I’m going to miss you. Bye for now.
For now? What did that mean? Wild scenarios played in Sophia’s mind of what “Bruce” might do next. Would he flip a switch and stalk her? Had he been stalking her all along? Wait. She was getting ahead of herself. Sophia might not be an expert in anything else, but she deeply understood people. And from everything she’d learned about “Bruce” so far, he was a good, kind-hearted man, whatever else he might be hiding. He wasn’t going to hurt her. Still, she tried to think of what Riley might order—or rather advise—her to do if she told him about this.
