Beyond the Breaking Point (24 page)

He recognized the tone and tried to head her off before she got started on a rant. “Cassidy…”

“No, for once you’re going to listen to me. You don’t really want me. I’ve seen that kind of woman you’re attracted to in those movies you watch. You should be free to find someone who’s on the same page as you sexually.”

He scowled. “Now you’re talking crazy. If that’s really the way you feel about it, I can do without. I just thought it was an experience we’d both enjoy. Don’t you want to add spice to our sex life? Keep things interesting?”

She stared at him for a long time and her expression made him feel guilty for some reason. “See, that’s the difference between us. You’re bored while I think our sex life is interesting enough.”

He stirred uncomfortably at her words. There was nothing wrong with a man wanting to liven things up, he thought defensively. The same old same old got boring.

“If you’re dissatisfied now, you’re only going to become more so as the years go by. I can’t live my life waiting for the other shoe to drop. I love you, but I can’t let myself trust you. Not again. I’d always be wondering when you’ll walk into another temptation too strong for you to resist. Or when you’ll get bored and go looking for something,
someone
, more exciting.”

She says that like my eventually cheating on her is a foregone conclusion
.
As if I have no control over my sex drive
. He felt a spurt of irritation. “Cassidy, that’s a load of bull and you know it. I love you. You’re my wife. I’ll never seriously want anyone other than you. If I’d still wanted to play the field, I’d have never asked you to marry me. Pussy’s too easy to come by to settle for just one source if you don’t have to.”

Phillip halted the rest of the words ready to pour out of his mouth. They wouldn’t help the situation and would probably make things worse. He was fighting for his wife, not trying to drive her away. He took a deep breath to get his budding temper under control. “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to answer me honestly. Is a divorce really what you want? Do you want to walk away from me, from us, forever? To never see me again, completely stop loving me?”

She took a long time to answer. Enough that he felt another spurt of irritation. The question wasn’t that damned hard to answer.

“No, but we don’t always get what we want in life, do we?” she finally answered.

“Not usually, no, but this one you can have.” Knowing it was time to stop pushing, he said, “Let’s just table all talk of divorce for right now.”

It didn’t matter to Phillip what actions she’d taken. The pertinent point was Cassidy no more wanted a divorce than he. Given enough time, they could work on the rest.

He asked her questions about work and her friends and family in an effort to show he was still very much an integral part of her life. He told her about his visit with his mother and whenever she tried to steer the conversation around to their divorce, he diverted her by changing the subject. As far as he was concerned, the divorce was a non-issue.

Servers came and delivered their entrees. Then another one came and refilled their drinks. The first one came over to see how they were enjoying their meal and to warn them to save room for dessert.

He glanced at Cassidy. “These guys are really working hard for their tip. I feel like assuring them they’ll get a good one so they’ll leave us the hell alone.”

“They’re just trying to do their job,” Cassidy said, frowning at him.

“Yeah? I don’t notice them pestering anyone else. Wonder if it’s ’cause we’re black.”

She frowned at him. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just saying, they seem to be unusually attentive.” He knew it didn’t have to be a black thing, but hell, what else was he supposed to think?

“If it were a black thing, they’d be ignoring us. Not jumping through hoops to make sure we have what we need and are satisfied with the service we’re receiving,” she said reasonably.

Since what she said made sense, Phillip looked around again at the other patrons he could see. They weren’t the only minority in the restaurant. Maybe his suit screamed money and they simply wanted a piece. He mentally shrugged and put it out of his mind.

“You going to eat that or keep playing with it?” Cassidy had only eaten half her soup and very little of her main course.

“I’m really not hungry,” she said and put down her fork. Phillip took a really good look at her. Her face was pale. There were shadows under her eyes and she’d lost weight, enough that the bones of her neck and collarbone showed. “You need to eat more. You’re getting too skinny. Are you on some kind of crazy diet?”

“No, I’m pregnant.”

“What?” he asked dumbly. She’d spoken so quietly, he wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. Then like an echo the words repeated in his head and what she said sank in. “You’re pregnant?”

Cassidy raised a hand and shoved hair out of her face. “Yes, I went to the doctor today.”

Joy sprang up on the inside of him.
She’s pregnant. We’re having a baby!
Phillip jumped out of his seat, rushed around the table and hauled Cassidy out of the chair and into his arms. He spun her around in a circle and then shouted to the restaurant at large, “We’re pregnant!”

There were some murmurs, some polite applause, and one or two rowdy whistles.

“Phillip, put me down,” Cassidy hissed under her breath. “You’re making a scene.”

As he set her on her feet, the server appeared at his elbow. For once he was happy to see the man. “Bring us a bottle of champagne. Oh wait, you can’t drink with the baby. You guys have some of that sparkling grape juice? If so, bring us a bottle.”

The man glanced back and forth between Cassidy and him, smiled slightly and said, “I’ll see what I can find.”

His wife pulled away and resettled in her seat, her face flushed with the heat of embarrassment. “I can’t believe you did that.”

“I’m happy. Aren’t you?” he asked, wondering what the big deal was. They’d been trying for over six months. Of course he was ecstatic that they’d finally gotten some results.

“I’m still adjusting to the news,” she said, not sounding happy at all.

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying now you don’t want our child?”

“No, that’s not it. I—”

Their server returned. “Our bartender made you both something special. Sparkling water with a splash of peach and strawberry,” he announced as he presented their glasses with a flourish.

“Thank you,” Cassidy said with a weak smile. The man seemed to hesitate. Cassidy picked up her glass and took a small sip. “It’s really good. Extend our thanks to the bartender, please.”

“Will do,” the server said and after a brief glance at him, walked away.

“You were saying…” he prompted.

She lifted a trembling hand and pressed it to her forehead. “I’m so stupid,” she muttered to herself. “They were right. I shouldn’t have done this here.”

“They who? And where else would we celebrate the news of our coming child?”

“That’s just it.” Cassidy dropped her hand to the table and clenched the cloth napkin in it. She took a deep breath and seemed to brace herself. “The baby might not be yours.”

He stared at her blankly.

Like a dam bursting, her words picked up speed, but didn’t make any more sense. “The night in Orlando when I left, Max and I got drunk and well, one thing led to another and we had sex. Unprotected sex. Now I’m pregnant and I don’t know which of you is the father.”

He slowly shook his head, feeling like he was in a fog. Only one thought stuck out in his mind. “You don’t drink.”

“I know.” She took a deep shuddering breath and said in a much calmer voice, “I was so angry, so pissed with you. Max came to my room with the pizza and the booze, intending to get drunk. I made him give me some so I could get drunk too. All I wanted to do was forget—you, Amber, the whole mess. We didn’t intend for it to happen. The subject came up, and well, it seemed like a good idea at the time.”

That son-of-a-bitch Max got my wife drunk and seduced her to get even with me
. He stared at Cassidy, who was so nervous she was shaking. She’d tried to make it sound good, but he knew what really happened. She glanced off to the side, unable to hold his gaze.

Could she be lying
?
Would she lie about something so serious to push him into agreeing to the divorce
? He studied her.
No, she’s not lying. She’s trying to sound like she’s not sorry about what happened, but I can see the guilt all over her
.

He reached out and covered her fist with his hand, frowning when she flinched as though she expected him to hit her. As if he would. Not Cassidy. Max? He was a different story, but that was for later.

“It’s okay,” he said magnanimously, more than willing to let it go. It was the least he could do after she’d forgiven his indiscretion. Besides, he knew the real source of the problem. “I won’t say I’m not upset about what happened between you and Max. I am, but under the circumstances, I can hardly blame you. I’ll handle Max,” he promised.

Cassidy’s eyes widened and she snatched her hand away. “Phillip, I wasn’t apologizing for what I did. Like I said, I was angry and not thinking straight. It happened. But, I had to tell you there was a possibility…I couldn’t let you go on thinking…” She couldn’t seem to find the words. Then her gaze narrowed and sharpened. “What do you mean, handle?”

He waved the question away. “Don’t worry about it. That’s our child,” he said. “We prayed for him, planned for him, and now he’s on the way.”

“But—”

“Mine, Cassidy. Yours and mine. I’ll make sure Max understands that if he becomes a problem,” he told her firmly.

Recognizing that his wife looked like she’d had about all she could take, he called the waiter over. “We’d like the check.”

The guy pulled out his little notepad holder and asked, “No dessert tonight?”

“None for me. Cassidy?”

She shook her head.

The server laid the check on the table. “I’ll bring a box so your lovely wife can take home her leftovers. Would either of you like a refill in a to-go cup?”

“Could I have another one of the drinks the bartender made?” Cassidy asked.

“It would be our pleasure,” the server said before walking off to do as he said.

Cassidy reached for the check and he took it from her. “What are you doing?”

“I invited you. I pay,” she said, holding her hand out for the ticket.

“My wife agrees to go out with me for the first time in months and you think I’m going to let you pay?” He shook his head, reached into his jacket pocket for his wallet and pulled out a credit card.

“At least let me leave the tip,” she argued.

“I’ve got it,” he said testily. Cassidy was trying to reduce this to a business meeting instead of a romantic night out on the town. Well, he wasn’t going to let her. He slid his card in the holder and placed it on the table.

While they waited, he said, “I called Dr. Gannon’s office. He’s booked all next week but he said he could see us the week after.”

Cassidy’s face took on a mutinous expression. “I told you I’m not going back to counseling. If you want to see him so badly, you go.”

Her response added to the low burn in his gut, but he decided to put it down to pregnancy hormones. The judge would force her into counseling, he reminded himself. He could afford to be patient. He thought about the situation. Cassidy’s filing for divorce was actually the best thing she could have done for their marriage.

A small portion of his former happiness resurfaced. Yes, his darling wife had no idea what she’d put into motion. He’d use her error to pull her right where she belonged—by his side and in his bed.

The server came with the box and the drink, took the check off to process it and returned a few minutes later with the receipt, his card, and a few chocolate-covered mints. “I hope you enjoyed your evening with us. Please come back and see us again.”

“It was lovely,” Cassidy said.

Phillip pushed the mints toward Cassidy, knowing how much she enjoyed them. He rose, placed his card to his wallet, and then went around to Cassidy’s side of the table to assist her. “You want me to carry that for you?” he asked, indicating the Styrofoam box.

“No, I have it.” She gathered her purse and slipped the strap over her shoulder, took the box in one hand and the drink in the other.

“Here, you don’t want to forget your flower,” he said, snatching it off the table.

He placed a hand just above her rounded hips and escorted her out of the restaurant. As they left, he noticed other patrons checking them out. They were a good-looking couple. His wife was beautiful and he was handsome. Their children would be gorgeous.

He preferred sons to daughters. It was hard to protect girls and there were some pretty sick fucks out there. He’d hate to have to kill someone for putting a hand on his child. One thing was for sure, if they did have a girl, his daughter would be like her mother. She’d have class. She wouldn’t be some slut who let men fuck her six ways from Sunday and then come begging for more. And she wouldn’t be a video whore, he decided.

“Where’d you park?” he asked as they exited the building. “Never mind. I see it.” He walked her to her truck.

She pressed the fob to unlock the door. He waited until she had her things inside and caught her around the waist before she could enter the vehicle. He kissed her long and leisurely, ignoring the hands she pressed against his shoulders in protest and not ending it until she’d reluctantly responded. “Go home. Take care of you and my baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You’re not following me home?”

Was that disappointment he detected? He tamped down on the urge to smile. “No, I can see you’re tired. Go home and get some rest.”

As he watched her drive off, he released his control on the anger that had been doing a slow burn deep inside. He pulled out his keys and stalked to his car. So Max thought he could screw with him by using his wife? He’d teach the bastard a thing or two. Phillip kept his speed nice and easy until he reached the interstate. Then he floored it, keeping one eye out for the cops as he sped across town.