'Latham?'
'My boyfriend.'
I stared hard at Alan, but he didn't react. I don't know why that disappointed me.
'That's probably why you think I'm not fine. I just need to get laid.'
'That did make you cranky. Remember that time I threw out my back?'
I grinned. 'The three worst weeks of our marriage. Productive, though. I doubled my arrest record during that time.'
'Remember when I was finally healed?'
'Yeah. We made up for lost time, didn't we?'
'Sure did. And I threw out my back again.'
We both laughed, and I wondered how he turned the conversation away from Latham so quickly.
'I love him. Latham, I mean.'
Alan stood up and walked over to me.
'That's nice. You deserve it.'
'He's wonderful. You'd like him.'
He put his hand on my shoulder.
'I hope I get a chance to meet him.'
He leaned down, getting in my personal space.
'What are you doing?'
'Do you think there could ever be an 'us' again?'
'I don't think so.'
'Prove it to me.'
'How?'
'Kiss me.'
'No. You don't have that right.'
'I made a mistake, leaving. I want to make it up to you. But I need to know if your feelings are still there.'
'Alan . . .'
'I still love you, Jack. I always have. I didn't leave because I stopped loving you. I left because I couldn't compete with your job. It took everything you had, and there was nothing left for me. Plus, the constant worrying you wouldn't come home.'
'Nothing has changed, Alan.'
'I've changed. I can handle it now. And seeing you again . . .'
I said, 'Don't,' but his lips met mine, and I didn't stop it, I didn't pull away, and all of our history came rushing back, all of the good times, and I closed my eyes and let my tongue find his and spent a moment wondering what might have been.
Then I found my center and pushed him gently away.
'I'm in love with another man.'
'I know.'
I traced my fingers along his jaw.
'You hurt me, Alan.'
'I know.'
'I don't want to do this.'
But when he kissed me again, I knew that I did.
Chapter 24
I didn't sleep with him, but felt so damn guilty I might as well have.
After the kissing became light petting, I excused myself to check on Mom.
Mom was snoring peacefully, with a silly smile on her face. I wasn't stupid. Bringing Alan here was part of some grand plan of hers, and for all she knew, it was working out fine.
For all I knew, she was right.
I dragged my tired bones into the shower, a cold one, and dressed in the most unattractive outfit I had: one of Latham's ratty football jerseys and an old pair of size ten jeans (after Alan left I briefly went from an eight to a ten, having traded the comfort of a husband for the comfort of pie).
I was searching through my closet for my ugliest pair of shoes, when I heard the screaming.
Alan.
