The Words We Leave Unspoken(19)

“Where’s your Aunt Charley?” I hear him ask.

“She’s in there. She’s sick now too.”

“I thought that might be the case. Where’s Max?”

“We’re watching a movie.”

“How’s Max feeling this morning?”

“I think he’s better.”

“How about you? How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine, I guess.”

Their voices fade as they move further into the house. Great. No chance of him going away anytime soon.

A few minutes later, I hear a knock on the bathroom door. I moan.

“Charley, you okay in there?” Ben asks.

“Yeah. What are you doing here, Ben?” I groan. I’m on my knees with my cheek resting on the cold toilet seat, my arms literally hugging the porcelain bowl.

“I came to check on you. I had a feeling you were next. I brought you some Gatorade and crackers and breakfast for the kids.”

“You didn’t have to do that. But thank you. We’ll be fine.” I wipe my nose and eyes on my shirt sleeve and lay my cheek back down against the cold.

“I’m coming in, Charley.”

I abruptly sit up, my head spinning from the sudden movement. “No, don’t come in,” I call out, but he’s already stepping inside the small bathroom. His presence filling the cramped space until I feel like I can’t breathe. I bury my face in my hands and mumble, “Seriously, this is so embarrassing, Ben.”

He kneels down next to me and I can smell his masculine scent. “I’m a doctor. I’ve seen worse, trust me.”

I peek out between my fingers to see him smiling.

“But really Charley, are you okay?” he asks with tenderness in his tone.

“I’ve felt better. I didn’t realize that doctors made house calls anymore.”

“Well, only for you.” His words reach me somewhere deep inside but I push them away.

“I’m taking you to bed,” he says while reaching his arm around my shoulders and gently helping me to my feet.

“Confident much,” I mumble but too tired to fight him, I lean my weight into him, feeling so weak and dizzy that I’m afraid I might pass out.

“Stop it. You know what I mean.”

“Yes. I know what you mean,” I whisper. And then I direct him to the guest bedroom across the hall, where he pulls back the bedding and tucks me in. He leaves me in bed, in the dark, my body shaking in spasms before returning a few minutes later with a bottle of Gatorade and a plate of crackers.

“Do you mind if I stay and hang out with Max and Olivia so you can rest?” he asks quietly.

“Be my guest,” I reply, suddenly feeling so tired that I can hardly keep my eyes open. He starts for the door when I am barely still conscious, but I still feel his hand as it threads through my tangled hair and his finger as it trails down my cheek. I hear his breath release as he sighs. And before I have time to process it or sift through the emotions his tenderness evokes, I am gone, held captive by sleep.





Chapter 13





Gwen


John turns the car off after parking in the garage and we both sit in silence. “Re-entry,” as we like to call it, is hard after a weekend away and we both savor our last moment of peace and quiet. The entire drive from the ferry I was focused on the failure of my mission. The sole purpose of the weekend alone that I had planned. I didn’t tell him. Instead, the weekend evolved into something magical. A reconnection that I hadn’t even realized we’d needed until there it was, all around us, pulling us closer together. And maybe we needed this weekend to be about us; maybe we needed this weekend before I tell him. At least that’s what I’m telling myself now, desperately trying to justify my dishonesty, my failure to confide in my husband. The worst part is that I have to face Charley. The one person who knows the truth.

John leans over and kisses me on the cheek, and I turn toward him, kissing him on the mouth.

“What a great night away,” he says and then leans back in his seat with a heavy sigh. “Think they’ll notice if we hide out in here for a bit longer,” he asks.

I smile, picturing us making out in the car like teenagers, hiding from our children.

“I miss them, I do. But why is it so hard to go back in there?” I ask, turning to John for an answer.

He only laughs and says, “Because it’s a jungle in there. The kids are probably fighting and you know the house is a mess.”

“Oh for sure the house is a mess,” I agree. We both laugh.

“And because once you walk in that door, you become their mom again, instead of my beautiful, incredibly sexy wife,” he says tenderly as he lifts my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss there as he looks into my eyes.

“Careful John,” I chide. “Am I not always beautiful and sexy?”

“You are. But can you blame me for wanting you all to myself a little bit longer?” His sulking eyes warm me and make me smile, reminding me of how much I love him.

“I suppose not,” I tease and then more solemnly I add, “I love you, John.”

“I love you too, Gwen,” he says and kisses me on the forehead.

I sigh. “Let’s do this.”