real.
Shortly she’d break to go make dinner and then she’d call up to him and he’d go down to join her at the table. They’d eat, talk about…something, then part for the night again. Some nights he took the TV and others, she did. They rarely watched anything together—they didn’t enjoy the same programs anymore.
When had she changed? He leaned back in his chair, taking a good look at the woman he’d married five years ago. Then she’d been vivacious, laughing at all his jokes, happy to see him when he came home from work each night. Now she sat there, lines of stress wrinkling her face, her back bowed and her chin in her hand.
She glanced over at him. “What?” she asked.
“Nothing, just looking at you.”
“Why?” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“A man can’t look at his wife?”
“I suppose, but…” She glanced at the screen and typed something before throwing another look at him. “Whaaat?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’?”
“You’re staring and, in the dark, it’s a bit creepy.”
Gary leaned over and turned on the small light beside his computer. “There. I’m not in the dark anymore. Is that less creepy?”
“No.”
“What’s so creepy about a man looking at the woman he loves?”
The words were out of his mouth before he realized he meant them. Although he’d said them out of habit, he heard the truth underneath. He did still love her. Why couldn’t he remember the last time he’d told her?
“I…I love you too.” Her voice sounded hesitant and she looked at him as if she wasn’t sure where he was going with this.
He stood up and held out his arms. “Come here.”
He could tell she was still wary, but she pushed her chair away from her desk and stood. He remembered when she would have run into his arms and hugged him tightly. His arms faltered a little.
But then she was there and her familiar perfume wafted up. Not flowery, but spicy. His wife was definitely an exotic spice. He took a deep breath as he wrapped his arms around the woman he loved more than anything in the world. How long had it been since he’d shown her that?
Val snuggled into the warmth of his embrace, feeling how perfectly they fit together. She didn’t want a tall man—they wouldn’t fit together right. Gary’s five foot eight fit her five foot three perfectly. Her head rested on his chest just at shoulder height, her face turned in. Unable to resist, she stood on tiptoe to place a gentle kiss on his neck. His musky cologne filled her nose, reminding her of such wonderful memories.
“I miss this,” she murmured.
“So do I.” His words, soft in her ear, made her heart beat a little faster.
“Do you? You never touch me anymore.”
Gary stepped back and Val immediately regretted that she’d said anything. Now they’d have an argument and she had so liked being in his arms.
“You don’t touch me either.”
She opened her mouth to protest then closed it as two pieces of information registered—one, he hadn’t denied her observation, and two, he was right. Neither of them went out of the way to give the other a caress. Making a decision, she stepped into his arms again, although she didn’t snuggle in.
“I want to start touching you again,” she told him.
“I want to start doing more things together. Alex said we don’t do enough together and I think…I think he may be right.”
“Do you know what I saw today?” Val frowned at the memory, her eyes flashing with indignation as she spoke. “I saw an older couple—I don’t know how old, but older than us. They got out of the car at the supermarket and he just marched right into the store without waiting for her. Not that she made any attempt to catch up to him.
“And it wasn’t just them. I sat there, amazed. Couple after couple went by, him in front, her behind every time. One woman even took these little running steps to keep up with her husband. But she was the only one who seemed to care.
“I wanted