Matter of Choice (16 page)

Shannon’s tongue ran across her lips, the remnants of the kiss still fresh against pink flesh, so longing to say the three words burning within her. Her heart screamed to follow its direction. “I’m sorry, Triston. I can’t do what I want to do. I have to do the right thing.”

He neared her. “Honey, the right thing is not going back to a man who does not value you and has been proving it over and over again. Don’t do this.”

She shook her head. “I have no choice.”

He gritted his teeth. “I hope you see how untrue that is.”

Nothing more to say, Shannon nodded, turned, leaving the room
and the man she loved behind.

*

Shannon turned the key and pushed the door open to a darkened foyer and an empty house. She rested the suitcase on ceramic tile and flipped the light switch to bathe the room in the bright light of an overhead chandelier. With a heavy sigh, metal keys tapping against her fingertips, Shannon stretched towards the living room, and then the den. Silence.

She was
alone, and her heart plummeted.

She’d been there before. Too often. Shannon glanced over a shoulder, then down to the suitcase. Maybe she should go back to the hotel. Maybe Triston was right. She closed her eyes, breathing steady, begging her mind not to make a wrong choice, the misguided step in a dire
ction where devastation lurked.

A noise from the balcony overhead echoed through the expanse, lifting her attention to see Greg standing against the oak railing. She wasn’t alone after all, and he was waiting for her this time. The right decision. She mus
t be making the right decision.

“Shannon? You came home.” She smiled as she watched him turn and run down the stairs to stand in front of her. The dark hair, gray eyes, angular jaw and chiseled cheekbones, clean shaven and groomed, like she remembered him. He had come back to her. And her heart didn’t rejoice. Every
part of her felt only … broken.

With baited breath, she waited for Greg to reach out and hug her. He didn’t. “I wasn’t sure this afternoon you would. I thought I had lost you for good. Thank you
for giving me another chance.”

Shannon nodded, but didn’t step towards him. “That’s what marriage is about, right? Standing by each other, even when everything seems lost.” Even to her ears, her voice sounded dead, and she won
dered if he heard it, or cared.

If he had, Greg didn’t show it. “Yes, right, well, are you hungry? Or want something to drink?”

She shook her head, feeling like an unwelcomed guest in a stranger’s home. “No, neither.” She didn’t remember him being so disconnected. Maybe it would just take time. After two years with little interaction, she silently reasoned, Greg didn’t know her any longer. “I think I’m just going to bed. Is that okay with you?”

He nodded, but his features clouded. “Of course. Here, let me carry the suitcase for you.”

She watched as he stepped behind her and picked up the luggage, her heart skipping a couple beats. Not the kind accompanying heightened love, or even bubbling lust, but the kind that pounded in dread and uncertainty. A flash of the divorce papers tucked safely in a desk drawer at the Grande, and she wondered if she was doing the right thing. Maybe she couldn’t have come home yet. Or at all.

“Shannon?”

She nodded at her husband, the vague memory of a promise made years ago screeching in her head, and she swallowed. This was right. It was the pledge made, and she intended to see it through, despite how she felt about Greg, or Triston, or anything else. Feelings pass, only a commitment made by choice lasts forever.

Their footsteps echoed through the foyer, out of beat and clumsy. The urge to cover her ears swelled within and she grabbed banister to steady herself against the tide. Once they reached the top, Greg turned towards the master bedroom. She followed, fury bubbling. The expectations were clear. Take him back. Welcome him back into her heart and bed, pretend the affairs never happened and life was as it always was. Just like that, so easily. Her fist tightened, nails digging into the palms. Greg may remember, and she could even swallow forgiving him in most every way, but forgetting would take time, a
nd he had no right to rush her.

Greg flicked the lights on as they turned the corner. His belongings from the guest room had been moved, the nightstand that stood empty for the last two years now crowded with his alarm clock, books, even a glass of water. Shannon raised an eyebr
ow, hard stare fixating on him.

Greg glanced at the nightstand and smiled dismissively. “I moved my things back in after I left the hotel. I thought, if we’re going to repair this marriage, there was no point in waiting. And if you didn’t come back, at least I could be comfortable in this room over the guest one. You understand, I’m sure.” He walked over to her side of the bed and laid the suitcase on the floor. “Maybe you’ll feel more like settling in tomorrow after work. Why don’t you just run down and get yourself something to drink, and then we can cuddle a little before you fall asleep. I know how much you like that.”

She watched as he edged around the bed and sat against the mattress, stripping socks and pants off as she stared, face wrinkled with tightness, mouth open, eyes wide. Her mind raced. It was like the last two years never happened. How could he remember everything so completely? Like a light switch. She grimaced. This was what she was hoping for and should be grateful.

He lay back, glancing towards her as he snatched a book from the pile next to him. “What’s the matter? Not thirsty?”

She tightened her lips and then puckered, biting back the words threatening to escape. “No, I guess not. What are you doing?”

He shrugged, charcoal eyes twinkling with an intent she hadn’t seen in a long time. “Just thought, since you’re going to bed, that I would too.”

She nodded slowly as her blood chilled. “Excuse me, I’m going to go change.” She stepped towards the dresser, and pulled out a pair of exercise pants and t-shirt, then headed towards the bathroom.

“You don’t have to change behind closed doors. We’re married, have been for a long time. I’ve seen it all before, right?”

Shannon stopped, the hair on her arms and neck rising on end. The scene wasn’t playing well on her stomach, and she felt sick. Without turning around to face him, she said, “No, but tonight I think I will. It’s been awhile, you understand.”

“Hmm, I guess so. No reason to be shy, but I guess if you feel more comfortable, then maybe tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure, tomorrow,” she snorted, then rushed to the bathroom and closed the doors behind her, not caring to hear a reply.

Leaning against the door, she closed her eyes. She belonged here, it was home, she struggled to remind herself. Not long ago, the insinuations and intentions would have thrilled her. They didn’t now, but they should. The reactions were wrong.

A memory of a kiss pulsated across her lips. Shannon brushed the sensation away, needing to forget, along with every other recollection of the man who reappeared after so long. Her life resided the same place it had for the last ten years, and it was a happy one before the accident. It could be again.

Stripping from the professional clothes, she donned the t-shirt, hesitated with the pants. She couldn’t hide forever. “I can tonight,” she muttered and stepped into them. Shannon pulled her hair up, and was about to wrap it tight above her head, but released it, allowing the strands to hang off her shoulders. No requirements dictated for eager friendless, but being formal was foolish too. Greg was her husband, Shannon reminded herself, d
espite the overwhelming doubts.

Gathering her thoughts and making sure she was decent, Shannon opened the door and sauntered clumsily to the bed, delighted Greg didn’
t lift his head to look at her.

Lifting up the blanket, she dropped against the mattress and pulled the covering up to her ne
ck, arms folded over her chest.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked, never directin
g attention away from the book.

“Yes. I’m going to sleep.” Shannon sunk further into the bed, and rolled to a side, back facing the man beside her. Closing her eyes, Shannon willed for sleep to come quickly,
but the reprieve hid from her.

Greg’s arm wrapped around her waist possessively, his lips trailing along her ear and down her neck. Her skin crawled and chilled, eyelids squeezed together, hoping he’d stop, lose interest and return to reading.

“I’ve missed you, Shannon. I didn’t realize it, but I did.” Greg’s hand moved up her stomach, hovering just below her breasts.

Her hand shot downward and pulled against his eager palm. “Please, Greg. I can’t do this. It’s too soon. I thought w
e agreed to give me some time.”

His hungry kisses burned her repulsed skin. “Yes, I know, but you feel so good next to me.” Greg pulled his hand out from beneath the restraint and pushed hard against her breast. “Don’t hide yourself from me,” he groaned.

She jumped from the bed, filth and guilt crawled from head to toe. “I said, I wasn’t ready. What are you going to do, rape me?”

He chuckled as he rolled over and picked up his book. “A husband can’t rape his wife, Shannon. Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t want to make love to your husband, that’s fine. I’ll just go back to reading, and you can go to sleep, and we can try again tomorrow night. It’s part of being married, and if we want our marriage back on track, we better practice some.”

Frozen at the edge of the bed, she watched him for seconds, minutes, it felt like forever. Slowly, she eased back in bed, pulling the comforter to her chin, eyes wide as tears trickled from their corners. With baited breath, she waited, teeth clenched so tightly, her jaw cried in protest. But Greg’s arm never glazed across her skin, his touch absent. The book’s paper crinkled as he turned page after page until gradually, a soft snore resounded in Shannon’s ear.

Next to her husband for the first time in two years, Shannon fell into a restless sleep, curled into an infantile ball, comforter wrapped tight to hide
from the stranger next to her.

*

Triston lay in bed, moonlight beams dancing across a bare chest as he stared at the black ceiling above, a finger sitting on his lips, mind straying to places he didn’t want the thoughts going. He was sure Shy wasn’t at the hotel, he thought he’d seen her pulling out of the parking lot a couple hours earlier. She was probably at home, lying next to that cheat of a husband. The knowledge was a lead weight against his chest. Maybe he’d been wrong all the time, the insistence she left her husband, the encouragement he’d given the relationship. She’d said all along she was married, warned him.

“Who’s the one acting lovesick?” he
grumbled and rolled on a side.

Was she making love to Greg? Allowing him to hold her? His shoulders tensed, a headache settling in at the temples. Triston rose and eased his legs over the bed, clasped hands wrapping around the back of his head as he leaned forward. His tongue
felt parched, his stomach ill.

He stood and headed to the bathroom. A couple of Tylenol would ease the tension, the headache would fade. He’d be able to go to sleep, but it wouldn’t erase the emptine
ss of knowing she was with him.

Triston swallowed the chalky tablets without water, grimaced and returned to bed. The covers suffocated his skin, and he kicked them off. She deserved better. Better than Greg, and better than himself. Greg, who’d shoved his escapades in front her like some kind of sick parade. And Triston knew he wasn’t much better, pushing and pulling at her to make the decision to leave everything she believed in for … for what? What did he have to offer her? An arm draped across his forehead. Not much compared to what she already had. Love, y
es, but maybe she wasn’t ready.

Triston sighed.
Time to leave the Grande
, he thought with narrowed eyes and heart wrenching in his chest. He’d get over Shannon, time would set him straight.

It was time to say goodbye.

Chapter Twenty Three

Triston sat on the edge of the sofa near the fireplace, and Shannon knew he waited for her. With hands clasped tightly together, the smile on his face vacant, she also knew the conversation would lead to shattered hopes, and guessed it wasn’t a conversation he wanted to have. She looked down the hall, past guests and housekeepers, to the door she knew waited and led to the sanctuary of the office. If she hurried past him, Triston may not notice. She might be able to delay the hurt she was about to cause them both.

She sighed then and set her jaw. Running away wasn’t an option, and wouldn’t be right. Her heels clicked as headed in his direction. She sai
d his name before he looked up.

“Good morning, Shy.” Triston’s voice sounded distant and cool, even with th
e use of the familiar nickname.

She steadied herself against the peach material. It wasn’t a conversation to confirm h
er choice. It was just goodbye.

She tried to smile but couldn’t. “I don’t think I want to hear this.”

He stood and circled the couch to stand before her, but didn’t reach out, his face void of emotion. “What did you expect?” He shrugged and shoved both hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I told you yesterday what I would do. I wasn’t trying to threaten you. You have to do what you need to do, and feel good about doing it. But I can’t stay here, heartbroken, while you try to put your life back together with that joker. We both know it’s the wrong choice your making.”

Everything that was horrible about the night before became amplified, her chest constricting and shortening her breath. “I don’t know what to say. I’m trying to do the right thing. And I feel like a broken record, because I’ve said that before, probably a hundred times, yet I know it’s not enough. What more can I say?”

He stepped closer, the heat of his breath hot on her skin. “You can tell me you’re going to change your mind.”

Her eyes grew wide with his proximity. “I can’t do that.” Shut up heart, we have to do this.

“Then just tell me you love me. Maybe that will be enough.”

Someone cleared their throat behind Shannon’s back. She started and turned to see Naomi close enough
to have heard the conversation.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Ms. Winters, but Megan Savoe is on the line, and I knew you’d want to talk with her.”

“Okay, thank you for letting me know. Can you ask Megan to leave a message, and I’ll return her call in a few minutes.”

She nodded and walked away. From the staggered gait, she could tell Naomi fought not to turn around for a good stare. Her employees, so loyal and underst
anding. She had been fortunate.

“Guess she heard more than she was expecting.” A trace of a smile played on Triston’s lips, but the amusement didn’t dance in his eyes, like she s
o loved to see.

“Triston, I can’t tell you what you want me to say.”

“Why not? You do, you know? Unless that night in your hotel room was a lie. You said it then. And that kiss, it wasn’t a lie, Shy.” His brows furrowed. “Why are you doing this now?”

She glanced away from the penetrating eyes, unable to deceive them, unable to bear the pleading. “I am
only doing what I have to do.”

“While you ignore how you feel.” He nodded and backed away. “If you can’t say it, I will. I love you, Shy. From the depths of my being, you are my heart. But I have to leave, today. I just wanted you to know.”

She nodded. There was nothing left for her to say or do. “Goodbye, Triston.”

Shannon turned away, unable to gaze into his face any longer. Her teeth clenched, breathing pulsating in her chest. The delicate cord, still soft with fresh birth, stretched rigid with every step until it snapped loose as she opened the door to the employee only hallway.

She closed her eyes, walking the familiar path with an invisible blindfold, knowing to open them would allow the floodgate of tears their passage.

Not in public. Not where anyone could see.

Her hand jerked the knob to the office and pushed forward. Turning, she slammed the door shut, her back falling against the wood as the tears sprang forth. Every muscle and bone failed, and she collapsed onto the floor in a heap of convulsing sobs.

Her duty as a wife; her affection for a man who, for the first time in more time than she cared to think about, showed her kindness, attention,
love
; the pain in Triston’s eyes as she denied his request to confess her love. His kindness to wish her the best, despite the pain.

And Greg. Two years of lost time and emotional torture. All the many women he pranced in front of her. The others he did a lousy job of sneaking. Lauren’s face danced before her eyes, and Shannon’s tears rushed harder. He may not know what he’d done, but she did. How could she ever look at him and not see it? Allow him to touch her as he had tried the night before and not feel her every inch of skin crawl, nausea not swell in the pit of her stomach?

She was lost in a void, the life she knew so well swallowed into the black abyss.

A knock on the door riveted her, and Shannon shot to her feet. Fingertips whisked the moisture from her cheeks, and then straightened imaginary rumples out of her clothes. “Yes?” she called throug
h the door with a hoarse voice.

“Ms. Winters?”

She clenched her teeth. She recognized Naomi’s voice, the protest sounding a heavy sigh. The time had finally come to face others’ questions.

Shannon turned the knob and rushed to the desk as her employee of more than five years slowly entered the office. Closing the door behind her, Na
omi took a seat before Shannon.

Act normal, the instinctual order resounded across every sense. Shannon swallowed hard, steadying her voice, obeying the impulse. “How can I help you, Naomi?”

“Ms. Winters, I know this isn’t my place. But I think you might need someone to talk to, and I thought, maybe, I could be that, if you wanted.”

Shannon sat silent for a moment, considered reprimanding for the step out of place. But she knew the desire was born more by embarrassment than discipline. She wasn’t that kind of boss. “Naomi, I …” She stood and made it to her window. “I appreciate the gesture, bu
t I’m not sure what I can say.”

“Everybody knows, Ms. Winters. And you don’t have to be embarrassed by it. You have won the respect and admiration of everyone here, the way you’ve stood by Mr. Winters. I don’t think any of us could have done that. But you deserve to be happy, and if that man in the lobby is going to make you happy, you shouldn’t walk away from him. No one would blame you, or think worse of you for it.”

Shannon turned with shock etched in her face and in her eyes. “I never realized.”

Naomi stood and took her hand. “We didn’t want you to know we knew. It wasn’t our place. I didn’t want to come today, but after seeing you with that man, and overhearing your conversation, by mistake, I had to come talk to you. I hope you forgive me, crossing over the line like this.”

Shannon shook her head and reached out to cover her employee’s hand within sandwiching hold. “There’s nothing to forgive. Thank you, Naomi, for your concern. I should be apologizing to you and everyone else here, for making the workplace such a soap opera. But Greg is better now, and we’re going to work on getting back on track.” She paused, the conviction in her voice so strained, she was sure Naomi saw right through it. “It’s not going to be an easy road, we know, but that’s what marriage is about, isn’t it?”

Naomi glanced downward as she nodded. “So when you said goodbye to the man in the lobby …”

“Yes, it was goodbye.” She nodded, arms dangling at her sides. The disappointment rang clear in Naomi’s words, salt pouring over already gaping wounds. Shannon cleared her throat. “He’ll be checking out today or tomorrow, I’m sure.”

“I’m sure that’s for the best.” Naomi grinned tightly. “I’m very happy for you and Mr. Winters.”

“Thank you.”

She nodded again, turned, and walked quiet
ly out of the office.

Shannon returned to the window, watching cars pull in and out of the circular drive below, her sight blurred with anger. The embarrassment was completed by the revelation her staff as whole were aware of all that had taken place. Nothing had been secured by closed doors, the disgrace on display for the whole world to see. Her neck felt warm and she clasped her hair into one hand while the other wiped away beading droplets of sweat. All the times she spent wishing for Greg to awaken from the walking sleep, she thought it would be the end of the pain, and
embarrassment and humiliation.

She was wrong.