Playing All the Angles (23 page)

“And now?”

“Now?” She smiled with half her mouth. “I think I finally dashed myself against enough rocks that I did beat it out of me. And this one—” she patted the bump again “—took up all the room and squeezed out what was left. I don’t have the emotional space left for it. Between her and you.” She grinned at him, shaking her head. “I’ve never loved anything like I love you. Makes it a hell of a lot easier to put the past where it belongs and focus on the rest. It’s over. I can’t change it. I can only change me—and make sure no one ever does the same to her. So says the therapist.”

He hugged her closer for a moment. “You mean the world to me, Evie. You and the baby. I want you to be happy and content. And never stop seeing that therapist, because she’s brilliant.”

“I am happy, you goof. I really am. This is blissful, our own little world. I could ignore everything else.”

“Maybe not entirely,” he said quietly. “I know you’re worried about your sister and how the party is going to go.”

“Well, more about Isabelle than the party. I know the party will be great. I’ll have plenty of buffer with you and Marcus and our friends there.”

“Have you heard from Isabelle since she was here?”

“She called yesterday, told me that Dominic had picked another fight with her on the way home from the reception, practically accused her of cheating with Patrick. They’ve been fighting off and on the past two weeks.”

“He’s a bastard, isn’t he?”

“Yeah.” Eve laughed. “He is.”

“Have you heard from him?”

“Not since his surprise visit to congratulate us on our marriage—the bugger. I think he was expecting you to be intimidated.”

“Fat chance.” Tad snorted. “Literally.”

Eve giggled. “He did look terrible, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did. Pretty bad for a newlywed who’s only been off the market a month or so.”

“Like I told Issie, he’s won the race now. He’s got the prize. He’s bored. No need to keep trying.”

“You told her that?”

“Mm-hmm. Told her he’d be a complete bastard so she’d make him chase her, and he’s been proving me right. Trouble is, she isn’t the kind of girl who gets a thrill out of that sort of thing.”

“And you are?”

“Was. Yeah. But you pull enough hair that I don’t miss it.” She winked, making him laugh.

“Did you like that Patrick bloke?”

“Patrick’s a doll. I adore Patrick. He’s exactly right for her and always has been.”

“What happened there? Why did they split up?”

She told him the story of her sister’s heartbreak. “Isabelle was a wreck. I really should have been around more for her, but my advice was to get over him by getting under someone else. Look where that got us? That got us to Dominic. From a priest to Dominic—who might actually require a priest to perform an exorcism. Apparently my sister only deals in extremes.”

“But he’s a doctor now?”

“Yep. He changed his mind and took up medicine instead. Pediatrics, from what Isabelle tells me. Fits. She’s going for her degree in elementary education. They both love kids.”

In bed later, she said, “After this one, how long do you want to wait for another?”

“Two years,” Tad answered, as though he’d already thought about it. “I think that’s good.”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Give us time to enjoy being parents and prepare for a new infant. If it happens sooner, that’s fine too.” He smiled and kissed her. “How many kids do you fancy having?”

“Two,” Eve said. “That’s plenty, don’t you think? Then, no one ever gets left out.”

He nodded. “Makes sense, though no matter how many we decide to have, no one will ever get left out. We’ll see to that.”

Dominic and Isabelle hardly spoke over the next two days. Neither was willing to back down from their positions. So, when Patrick sent Isabelle a text invitation to lunch on Wednesday, she couldn’t move fast enough to meet him. In the month and a half since she had been married, she had gone from being a woman on top of the world to a woman pinned under a bus, and she wasn’t sure what had happened. She was sure that it was all to do with Dominic, though, and she wasn’t happy.

When she arrived at the restaurant Patrick had named, the maître d’ took her to a quiet table in the back, where Patrick was already waiting. He stood, greeted her with a kiss on the cheek, and held her chair for her before resuming his own.

“It’s good to see you,” he said with a relieved smile. “I thought maybe, after the party…” He shrugged.

“What?”

“Well, your husband didn’t seem to like me very much.”

“I’m not sure he likes me much, either.” She sighed and then shook her head. “I’m sorry. Forget I said that.”

Patrick asked, and she answered, spilling out the story as they ordered and ate.

She laughed. “Look at me. I’m so numb to it; I’m eating around it. Usually I can’t eat when I’m upset, but here I am.”

“I think it’s a good sign. You’re not taking the hurt to heart.”

“Or I’m comfortable enough with you that the rest goes away.”

Patrick looked down, then back up. “I do have to tell you…if I thought there was a chance with you, I’d jump at it. So, he’s right not to trust me. I’ve been fighting this within myself. I know it’s wrong. I know it’s sin. I’m not sure I even believe in sin anymore, though. All I know is that I’d give anything—anything, Isabelle—I’d give anything for the chance to change the past. I’d give my soul.”

She felt the blush rise in her cheeks, and she met his eyes, her stomach doing small flips at the heated longing she saw there. “Patrick, I—” she began, but he shook his head.

“I know. You’re married, and you’d never break those vows. I shouldn’t even think about what I’d do if you would, but I can’t help it. I think about you all the time.”

“I…think about you a lot too,” she admitted. “More than I should.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.”

“Is there a chance, then?” His expression was so hopeful.

Isabelle fretted a moment and then rose, tossing her napkin aside. “I have to go.”

He rose with her. “Please don’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

The second the two of them were on equal footing, they were in each other’s arms, locked in a deep kiss. Isabelle’s mind had shut down entirely. All she wanted was to feel Patrick’s body against hers and have things the way they used to be. The way they should be.

It was almost as though the intervening years had not happened, as though they had never parted for the sake of a higher calling, and Isabelle was lost in the waves of emotion that crashed over her in that moment.

Reality intruded, however; the sounds of other diners around them and the sudden awareness of the fact that the man she was kissing wasn’t her husband made her draw away from the kiss.

She took a step back, tears springing to her eyes. “I can’t. I’m sorry,” she said, turning to leave.

“I know.” His voice was pained, but he let her go.

She was halfway home with her fingers against her lips before it hit her that Dominic had been right to worry. The voices in her head started shouting at once. Alora’s and her mother’s were there telling her what she’d done was stupid, but suggesting that no one had to know, and if it happened again…well, he was a doctor! Her father’s voice was sorely disappointed. Dominic’s was nastily wry. Eve’s was practical, though, so that’s the number she dialed.

And it was an extreme relief to hear her say, “Well, of course you did. You never stopped loving him. But you can’t have an affair with him, because neither of you is that kind of person. So…take a few days and a few deep breaths, then decide where you want to be.”

Isabelle sighed. “I don’t know what to do. I feel awful because I know I hurt him terribly just now, and I feel like a hypocrite for reading Dominic the riot act about his groupies. I’m no better.”

“You kissed Patrick. You didn’t shag him!” Eve cried. “Stop being so hard on yourself, Issie. Maybe it’s just unfinished business, or maybe you’ve had enough of Dominic being such a bastard.”

“I have had enough of that,” Isabelle admitted. “I don’t understand him at all. You were right about his behavior, but I don’t know how to deal with it.”

“You shouldn’t deal with it. Issie, what’s happening is that Dominic’s used to having a girl on the side who catches all his hell, where he can be bad to the bone without repercussions. Now he’s gone straight edge with you, and you’re seeing the cracks in the shiny, happy image he’s been wearing for you. Think about it. You’ve probably been seeing stress fractures since he proposed.”

“I suppose so. I still didn’t expect everything to change so rapidly. I knew we’d have a period of adjustment. That’s normal. But I don’t even know him anymore.” She sighed. “And I can’t fight with him. It doesn’t do any good.”

“No. He’s a Scorpio. Never argue with one of those. Just wait till they’re asleep and glue their lips together.”

She chuckled. “He is stubborn.”

“Because he knows he’s guilty and…he knows he’s right. But don’t live up to his expectations. Don’t cheat. Just make a decision, then follow the proper course to stay true to it. Secrets aren’t good.” She paused a bit before saying, “Um…listen, after the party, maybe on Sunday, let’s you and I talk in person.”

“Okay. I’d love that. Thanks for the talk, Evie.”

“Sure thing. Take care, honey.”

They got off the phone, and Isabelle pulled herself together, steeling herself for the return home. Dominic wasn’t there, so she had time to breathe. She went upstairs and took a soak in the tub, trying to relax the frayed edges of her nerves, then got out, dressed, and went to work on the computer. She wrote a quick e-mail to Patrick, apologizing again for her behavior and telling him that she needed some time to think things through. There were just too many emotions tangled up, and she didn’t want to complicate things with him. She sent it off and started retyping her essay, just finishing the draft when Dominic came home.

He threw his clothes off, leaving them on the floor, and went for a long shower. When that was done, he wandered around in his towel for a while, rummaging in the fridge for food, generally ignoring Isabelle’s presence. He spoke when she said hello, but then went and picked up a book he’d started reading and took it back to the bedroom.

Isabelle sat there and fumed silently before she finally switched off the computer and went upstairs. She stood in the doorway, her arms crossed, and considered the man she’d married. No, she considered the man she was now married to. He was not the man she’d married.

After a few minutes, he looked up, his expression barely inquisitive. “Do you need something?”

“Yes. I need to know how long this is going to last.”

“Uh, should take me another hour to finish,” he answered, indicating the book in his hand.

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” she said. She wasn’t yelling or even raising her voice. She felt numb. Hollow. Defeated. “I mean, how long do we going on pretending the other’s not here?”

“I guess till you’re ready to apologize.”

Isabelle blinked. Maybe she’d heard him wrong. “What?”

“You knee-capped me in front of your boyfriend because you thought I was being rude for breaking up your little convo. Then you kicked me out of the bedroom for being pissed at your attitude. When you’re over it, and say so, I’ll get over it.”

She stared at him. “First of all, he isn’t my boyfriend. Second of all, you were rude for the things you said to him and about me,” she said flatly. “And I kicked you out of the bedroom for being a complete bastard—and then some—about all of it on the drive home from our wedding reception! So, if you’re waiting for an apology from me for all of the things you did yourself, you’ll be waiting a long time.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, Dominic, but ever since we got back from Paris, you’ve been a different person. I don’t feel like I even know you anymore, and I’m tired of feeling like…like you don’t want me anymore.” The last words came in a strangled yelp, and she turned out of the room, heading back downstairs and out into the small garden. She needed air. All the frustration and upset had come out in those last few words, but she didn’t feel any better.

A few minutes later, the door opened and shut behind her. Dominic was standing there with his arms crossed. “I thought you didn’t want me anymore.”