Read To Hold for Free Online Page B

like to take the plane out of the country.”
    I want to ask if Drew will be joining us, but worry the question will seem odd. Instead, I settle into silence, placing my order, and saying little else.
    It is the first meal we have shared without others present. We’ve had a couple of double dates — arranged for business purposes — dates on which Nathan was on his best behavior. More common has been group outings — a party, a dinner, a tour of a new development, charity events. Group outings are easy for us, the crowds allowing us to mask our limited knowledge of each other, our lack of inside jokes, pet names, and shared history. For some couples, silence is comfortable, everything already discussed, shared, communication possible without speaking. For us, silence is all we have ever known. I do not speak because I do not know what to say. He does not speak because he has no interest in talking.

    “Does Nathan talk to you?” I am tucked into the backseat of the Maybach, staring into eyes in the rearview mirror. It’s the first question I’ve asked him since the kiss. It’s funny how I now consider questions dangerous behavior.
    His brow furrows. “Talk?”
    This is new — an opening to discussion, something out of the ordinary for Drew. I lean forward. “You guys spend a lot of time together. With me, he is always quiet. Does he talk to you?”
    “Yes. We’ve known each other a long time.” His eyes are now straight ahead.
    A long time. That prompts a stack of new questions in my mind. I mull over them, trying to decide which is most important, which he is most likely to answer. Then he speaks, the question surprising me.
    “What did he say to you? At lunch?”
    I blink, the question so foreign and strange. I feel a childish urge to refuse to answer, to withhold the information until he gives me some. I look out the window. “Very little. We’re going to go on a trip to the Caribbean.” My mouth curves without prompting — a quiver of excitement lighting up my body. I had the entire meal to think about it: a trip, the island sun, cold frozen drinks, nights spent in Nathan’s bed, his hands on my body, mouth on my skin. I have never been out of the country, have only seen ads on television showing peaceful sunsets, steel drum music, and couples who are head over heels in love.
    I snap out of my daydream, realizing that Drew has not spoken. I look up, my angle allowing me to see his profile, the tightness in his jaw alerting me that he is annoyed. The emotion baffles me. He keeps his face forward, then his jaw moves and I hear, “When does he want to go?”
    This is the first conversation that Drew has ever instigated. My mind races. I’m searching for a question to ask him, wanting to grasp this opportunity before talkative Drew slips away. As the months have passed, the questions have stacked up, a teetering mountain of them in my mind. Some large, some small, they have grown atop one another, the ones on the top useless unless buried ones are also answered. “Would you go?” The words jut out of my mouth, the question that I was too scared to ask Nathan, the question I need the answer to.
    He doesn’t respond, and the silence is uncomfortable, long, and thick. “Nathan mentioned it was a business trip, and that you’d handle the arrangements. I just thought that maybe …” I desert the useless sentence. I shouldn’t have to explain my questions; he never bothers to explain anything. He is still mad, his jaw continuing to do that clenching thing, the tension stifling in the car.
    “I don’t know if I am attending, but I typically don’t.” He flexes his hands and tightens them on the steering wheel. “When does he want to go?”
    I don’t know how I should feel at his words. Elated that Nathan and I will have the time alone? That is the proper response. Certainly the response that a committed, doesn’t-look-at-other-men wife should have. I glance out the window, the city turning into