His wife.
He was married.
He looked to her.
Smiled at her.
She smiled back.
Yes, she was very pretty.
Smart.
His.
“Soon, we’re eating soon,” he promised Genny.
“Awesome. Sam, you need help with anything in the kitchen?” Genny offered.
His wife answered and the women took off.
The men on the balcony got out of the heavy, and Corey hustled with finishing the chops, not quite allowing his brain to latch onto the fact he was doing it because Gen was hungry.
They served dinner, and Sam and Gen amused themselves, laughing and talking and lighting up the dining table. Though the truth of it was, Genny did most of that, the lighting up part, but Sam wasn’t exactly a slouch.
Corey chimed in, because he might not have allowed his brain to latch onto the fact that his meaning of life became feeding Gen when she shared she needed food, but he did remind himself that these three people were the most important people in his life. Two of them had been since he was little. Those two being the only ones who stood at his side or had his back the entirety of his existence.
And they were at his table.
And they were all happy (of a sort).
So life was good.
However, it didn’t slip Corey’s notice that, as the night wore on, Duncan had begun to get subdued.
Duncan sat, a small smile on his face, watching Genny, giving Sam his attention when she spoke, also Corey.
But he’d grown quiet.
And eventually, it was not lost on Corey, Duncan grew reflective, and this was only when he was watching Genny.
From that, Corey knew, the seed had been planted.
And the feeling he felt having that knowledge was what he guessed people meant when they said they were beside themselves with glee.
At the very same time he hated himself completely.
So completely, if he let himself think about it, that feeling would well up in his chest, getting bigger, spreading wider, filling his throat…
Overcoming him.
Completely.
Until it drowned him on dry land.
Chapter 14
The Cell
Imogen
* * *
The next morning, I lay on my side in bed, Cookie curved into the crook of my body, and although I had a view across the room to the charming square, I wasn’t looking at it.
Instead, I was scrolling up and down on my phone, reading the same thing over and over again.
Duncan: You up, baby?
Me: Yes.
Duncan: Morning.
Me: Good morning.
Duncan: You going riding with Coco?
Me: If she gives me my boots.
Duncan: [smiley face] You girls ride Caramel or Streak. Don’t get on Pistol. Gage’s stallion only likes Gage on his back. You gotta be strong to control him.
Me: OK
Duncan: See you at lunch.
Me: You bet.
And that was it.
When we were together before, cell phones had not yet been invented.
Why having a text string with Duncan meant so much to me, made me feel girlie and young and giddy, I didn’t know.
And I didn’t question it.
I just lay in bed, with what I knew had to be a silly grin on my face, going back and forth over the words.
There was a knock on the door and Cookie immediately moved to investigate.
I looked at the clock.
Apparently, I was so involved in that text string, I lost track of the time.
I had a standing order for breakfast delivery at nine o’clock.
And it was nine o’clock.
On the dot.
I pulled myself out of bed quickly, shrugged on my robe, tied it tight and went to the door.
“Good morning, Patrick,” I greeted.
“Ms. Swan,” the staffer replied. “Breakfast.”
I stepped aside to let him in. “Thank you.”
He rolled the food to the bistro table.
I went to my wallet.
I had his tip out before he was finished setting out my breakfast, and I took that moment, watching him, to remember that Duncan and I had spent the entire afternoon, and evening, in that room the day before.
In our Corey-free, ex-free, trouble-free zone, we still managed to talk about everything.
At least everything important.
His boys. What they were into. The girls they’d loved and left, and how much that had pained Duncan because he had liked them all (the man really needed a daughter…or two step ones). How River Rain came about. His work on his causes. The Kids and Trails program. My children. My work. The movies I was proud of. The ones that didn’t turn out all that great. My semi-retirement where I might take a meaningful, but small part in a film, or an amusing cameo.
With years to catch up on, we were not wanting for topics of conversation.
Though, this was mingled with lots of touching, cuddling and kissing on the couch, then after dinner, more of that, but hotter and heavier on the bed.
And, of course, in the midst of that, Duncan fell for Cookie.
Then again, Cookie was a flirt.
And we called for room service and ate dinner right there at that table.
Honestly, at the end of the evening, I didn’t want him to go home. I wanted him to spend the night with me.