Read All Said and Undone Online

Authors: Angelita Gill

All Said and Undone (3 page)

BOOK: All Said and Undone
13.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

The next day, Saturday, Jack was in his office attempting to distract himself blind with work. But every time the phone rang, he expected his attorney to be on the other line, informing him Grace had submitted divorce papers.

Paranoia was a condition he seldom allowed himself to experience, but for some reason he felt it often where Grace was concerned. It was as if he could sense her coming to a decision about their marriage, and it wasn’t in his favor.

He dashed from the office around three o’clock, telling his fellow associates he’d be away the rest of the weekend, and not to bother him until Monday. They knew where to find him for emergencies, but they also knew it would have to be dire to bring him out of the cabin.

 

***

 

The drive to Big Bear Lake was easy and free of traffic. Grace only planned on staying one night. On the way there, she listened to her favorite road music on the mp3 player and sang along, enjoying how fresh the air became the farther away from Los Angeles she got. She turned off her cell phone, snacked on Hershey’s Kisses, and as she got to closer to the lake, the weight on her shoulders eased. She’d even picked up some fruit and vegetables from vendors at the side of the road.

A carefree feeling came over her.

But as she turned the gravel drive and the classic Sierra-style cabin came to her view, sentimentality clouded her cheerful disposition.

She couldn’t pretend her heart wasn’t broken when she was here.

She could at work; she was the master of disguise. Even at their house in the Marina, where they’d spent almost zero quality time together other than to sleep, she was able to get through her days and some of her nights without aching with loneliness.

The Big Bear cabin, however, was another story. She couldn’t ignore her heartache here.

She sighed, got out of the car, and dragged her feet up the steps. Glancing at the neglected lilac bushes, she plopped down on the front porch swing.

She smiled wistfully.

The first time she and Jack had come to the cabin after they’d bought it, her ankle had been sprained from a skiing accident, and he’d had to carry her from

the car to the door….

 

 

“What do you think?” he asked, rounding the car as she hopped out of the passenger side on one foot.

She smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck as he picked her up. “You painted it! Jack, it’s lovely. Flowers, too? When did you have time for all this?”

He kicked the car door closed, grinning as he carried her across the lawn. “Last Sunday when you were at the studio until one in the morning.”

“You’re amazing.”

“Now there’s something I don’t hear every day.” He smiled down at her. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it,” she said, stroking her fingers through the back of his hair.

He gave her a quick kiss, climbed the steps, and unlocked the door.

“You can just put me in the chair—where are you going?” she asked as he strode through the living room, past the kitchen, and into their bedroom.

Gently, he set her down on their bed, kissing her all the way before straightening to unbutton his shirt.

She laughed softly, swinging her legs over the edge, offering a beguiling smile as she looked up at him. “We just got here.”

“Its bad luck not to make love in a new cabin.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she ran her hands up the inside of his unbuttoned shirt, feeling the hardness, the heated muscle of his torso. “You’re making that up.” She pressed his shoulder as she eased him down. “But I like it.”

Cupping the back of her knee, he was careful to avoid bumping her cast. “In fact, it’s bad luck not to make love until the sun comes up….”

 

 

Tears threatening, she abandoned the swing, shoved her hand in the pocket of her shorts for the keys, and marched inside.

 

***

 

Hours later, the sun had just set behind the trees and she had finally begun to relax on the sofa with a best seller. Her first instinct when headlights beamed in the window was that someone was lost or had mistaken the cabin for their neighbors’, a half mile down the road. A car door slammed, and she figured she should come out to kindly point whoever it was in the right direction.

She opened the door and froze when she saw Jack with a bag on his shoulder, one leg up on the steps.

Twice in two days? Her heart in her throat, she choked out, “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same,” he said in a frankly surprised tone. “I thought you never come here anymore.”

“And I thought you rarely did. What a coincidence you pick
this
weekend.”

“When I saw your car, I called you, but it went straight to voice mail. I almost turned around, but I’m tired as hell from driving. All I wanted was to spend some time away from the city before you decided to sell this place, too.”

She put a hand on a hip. “I told you I’m not selling the cabin. Ever. Can’t you spend the night somewhere else? You can have it all to yourself next weekend.”

“I can barely get away for a haircut, let alone to the cabin, so no, I will not go somewhere else.” He gestured at her. “Why don’t
you
leave?”

“I was here first!”

He raised a sardonic brow. “Sorry, but that’s not a good enough argument for me to go.” He paused as he climbed to the top step. “Unless you’re not here alone.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’m alone.” That sounded way too pathetic. “Fine. I’ll go to a motel.” Empty statement. As if she would give him the satisfaction.

“I don’t care what you do, but I’m staying,” he said as he stalked past her and inside.

“Jack.”

He turned around with weary shoulders. “Come on, Grace. I’ve been driving for over two hours after working all day and I’m exhausted. I’ll stay out of your way; you can stay out of mine. Surely we can do it for one night.”

“Surely you can see how awkward this is.”

“And all I want to do is relax, sleep, and go for a good, long run in the morning.” He dropped his bag, studying her. “Why are you out here?”

“Same reason. To get away.”

He nodded softly, gazing into her eyes. “Looks like we’re both in need of some peace.”

Her heart slammed as her stomach dipped. Dear God. This man used to
be
her peace. She had just gotten used to living day to day without him, and now here he was, stirring up her emotions—old and new—all over again. “What are we going to do about the bed? Sleeping arrangements, I mean?”

He shrugged. “I’ll sleep on the couch. Easy as that.”

Easy
?
Maybe for him
! Share their beloved cabin and not be close to him?
Lord, give me strength to keep it together
.

She closed the door, unable to tear her eyes away from his broad back, marveling at how the very presence of him charged the air. How was she ever going to get any rest with him so close? They had specifically chosen the five-hundred-square-foot cabin because of its coziness, the rock fireplace in the corner, big windows, and wraparound deck. She had a feeling no matter where she went—the bedroom, the deck, the kitchen, the back yard—she would be excruciatingly aware of Jack.

She silently scolded herself for watching him as he moved around, making himself comfortable, not looking nearly affected by her presence. Desperate to turn her attention elsewhere, she escaped to the kitchen.

He was putting logs in the fireplace, and she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from arguing against it. A crackling fire reminded her too much of those cooler nights in the past. However, she dared not give away her thoughts. She could live with it.

“I’m not selling the boat,” she told him absently as she rummaged around the kitchen to make something to eat.

There was a pause in the air and then he said, “Good.” He continued grabbing the stacks of wood with his strong hands and placing them in orderly fashion on the grate.

“I’m not keeping it just because you said so,” she went on, knowing she was baiting him.

“Why
are
you keeping it?” He looked over his shoulder.

She avoided his gaze as she turned on the gas stove. “You were right. It means something to me. Even if it just sits there bobbing in the water all day.”

She felt his steady gaze upon her as she opened up cans of creamy tomato.

“You’ve lost weight,” he remarked. “Still eating like a bird?”

She glared at him as she poured the tomato broth into a small pot. “I haven’t lost any weight since….” Her voice trailed off, and she choked back the rest of the sentence, not wanting to bring up the night he’d moved out. “I don’t eat like a
bird
. I just don’t swallow the barbarian portions you do.”

“Look what you’re making for dinner,” he said, rising from his knees. “I bet it’s something that wouldn’t satisfy a mouse.” He came up beside her, resting his hands on the edge of the counter while she stirred the mixture. “Case in point.”

“It’s soup!”

“It’s pathetic. Let me help.”

The hairs on the back of her neck rose at his close proximity. “I—I don’t need your help.”

“Trust me. I can make it ten times better.”

“Its fine the way it is. Nice and plain.”

He shook his head and opened the fridge. Pulling out her vegetables, a cutting board, a knife, and some paper towels, he bumped her out of his way.

She begrudgingly admitted to herself that adding veggies did sound appealing. They’d been intended for use in a salad, but she didn’t argue, giving her approval with silence.

After he finished chopping up some green onions, tomatoes, and mushrooms, he dropped them into the pot. “There. Now it has some guts.”

“Er, thanks.” She stirred them in and turned down the heat. “Would you like some?”

“I’m not hungry.”

After allowing it to warm through, she poured the soup into a bowl and took a seat in the corner of the sofa, attempting a nonchalant air as she started to eat. Only able to get through half of her serving, she reached for a book and reread the same page at least four times.

Jack had occupied himself with starting the fire.

Say something
. She should say something.

No.
He
should say something.

It was so weird being there with him without the romance, the conversation, the laughter, the lovemaking….

She turned a page with blind eyes, still not reading.

A part of her wanted to weep, a part of her wanted to scream, another part of her wanted to crawl into his arms and sink into his heat and fall asleep. She glanced at him over the top of her book. He’d taken a seat opposite her and was watching the fire with a pensive gaze, not appearing as if he wanted to shed any tears or scream at all. Though if he did, she would most certainly die of shock.

Typical Jack. No emotion. No conflict.

Just like the night she’d suggested a separation. After they’d finished yelling accusations at one another, she’d told him to move out, acting out of hurt. The only thing he’d said was, “If that’s what you want….” and then packed his essentials and left her standing.

The memory of how she’d felt after he walked out the door, how ambivalent he’d seemed, coursed through her with sharp familiarity. She dropped the book on the table, unable either to read a word or withstand the quiet.

“How can you just sit there?”

Jack remained in his relaxed position, moving nothing but those cobalt-rimmed irises to meet hers. The fire embers popped while the silence sizzled between them. Grace’s heart began to pound at her husband’s stare.

“How can I just sit here?” he repeated, arching a brow, his deep voice slow and patronizing. “Why don’t you finish your sentence, Grace? As in, how can I just sit here…and not…what? What do you expect me to do?”

Grace swallowed on a dry, nervous throat. It was a good question. What did she want from him? To talk to her? Yes, but…to say what, exactly? That he missed her? That he was lost without her? That he’d give anything to save their marriage? She sighed mentally. Maybe she’d like for him to say such things, but that wasn’t Jack’s style. He didn’t beg or give heartfelt speeches about feelings. From the first time they met, he had told her his actions would speak louder than his words. If he was with her, it was where he wanted to be. And if she didn’t want to be with him, he would leave. Grace had tested him, expecting—hoping—he’d refuse to go. She’d been tired of the emotional distance between them, living two separate lives, and feeling taken for granted. He was married to his job, and
she
was the mistress. The only time she felt close to him was in the bedroom, but it hadn’t been enough. Fed up, she’d told him she needed more. He still didn’t get it. They’d fought, and just like that, he’d left. Out of her life. Jack was nothing if not a man of his word.

As he sat there waiting for her to reply, she would’ve sold her soul to know what he was really thinking under that cool mask. How crazy it made her to see him so calm, as if he couldn’t care less, either way, what happened to their relationship. If it had been his job on the line, she imagined he would pull out all the stops to save it.

When he lay his head back and folded his hands behind his head with a sigh, she had the biggest compulsion to throw something at his sharply handsome face.

“What are you doing?”

“Relaxing.”

“How can you?”

He gave a long sigh. “These questions you’re asking are loaded. This is why I came out to the cabin, Grace. I’m sorry if it offends you.”

Everything about his attitude was offending her, but she didn’t know how to begin a conversation without sounding bitter or bursting into tears. “Jack….”

“I don’t want to fight.” His voice was resigned.

Exactly. He was perfectly fine to let her go without protest.

Frustrated, Grace got up and retreated to the bathroom, but left the door ajar to let out the stifling air. She changed into a blue cotton nightgown with spaghetti straps, and brushed her long hair, waiting for her nerves to settle, her heartbeat to steady. She didn’t know how long she was in there when she heard steps approaching. She’d been absentmindedly smoothing lotion onto her arms. Jack appeared in the doorway, leaning against the jamb, watching her.

BOOK: All Said and Undone
13.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Rivers of Gold by Tracie Peterson
Practically Perfect by Dale Brawn
The Eternal Engagement by Mary B. Morrison
Manly Wade Wellman - Hok 01 by Battle in the Dawn (v1.1)
Agnes Among the Gargoyles by Patrick Flynn