Marriage Matters (13 page)

Twenty-one

O
n Saturday, Chloe made a point of avoiding Ben. This wasn’t difficult, considering he seemed to be avoiding her, too. Typically, they texted nonstop but she didn’t hear from him all day. Not even once.

This irritated her in a major way.

In her opinion, Ben should be the one to be a little more mature. After all,
he
was the one who kissed her, not the other way around. Besides, he had plenty of experience dealing with the opposite sex. But . . . Chloe glared down at her phone. Maybe this was exactly how he dealt with them.

At two o’clock, her text alert finally chimed. This earned her the evil eye from the serious-looking girl sitting at the library table across from hers. “Sorry,” Chloe mouthed, but she really didn’t care. She was just relieved that Ben had finally,
finally
gotten in touch.

To her surprise, the text message wasn’t from Ben. It was from Geoff, confirming their date for that night. Chloe stared at the message, torn between disappointment and excitement. Finally, she chose excitement and texted him back.

Turning off her ringer, Chloe tossed the phone into her backpack. Whatever. If Ben wanted to be a jerk, let him. She didn’t have time for it. Besides, it wasn’t like she was interested in him like that, anyway.

Chloe got to work and lost track of time. By the time she checked her phone, it was seven, leaving her just an hour to get home, get changed and meet Geoff downtown. She raced home and quickly tried on a few outfits. Nothing looked right, so she decided to wear the same thing she’d worn on her date with Ben. It wasn’t like anyone would know and besides, he’d said the skirt was sexy.

Since there was no time to take a bath, Chloe spritzed her hair with vanilla and pomegranate perfume and swiped on some brown mascara. Then, after a critical once-over in the mirror, Chloe dug through her closet until she found a black lacquered purse June had given her. She never wore it because it was slippery on her shoulder, but she hoped the designer label would make her look more mature.

With little time to spare, Chloe raced out the door. There, she screeched to a halt. Ben was keying into his apartment. He was wearing a light blue T-shirt and a pair of well-worn jeans, his hair as tousled and sun-streaked as ever. She wondered how it was possible that he managed to look even better than he had on their date last night. The injustice made her want to punch him in the face.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Hi.”

“Hey.” Ben fidgeted with his key chain. It was an anime doll with wild blond hair, wearing an orange tracksuit. She wondered who had given it to him. “Going on your date?” His gaze swept over her outfit.

Chloe blushed, wondering if he knew she was wearing the exact same thing. “Yeah.” As always, the lacquered purse started to slip off her shoulder. She tugged it back up, saying, “Wish me—” Then, maybe because she’d moved it the wrong way or because the purse was perpetually annoying, it slid off her shoulder and dropped to the ground, spilling pens, lip gloss and papers across the hallway.

At the same time, Chloe and Ben both bent to pick everything up and they cracked heads.

“Ow!”
she cried, grabbing her hair.

“Come on,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead.

Straightening up, they eyed each other warily. Neither took a step backwards.

Chloe’s eyes wandered down to Ben’s lips. They were slightly parted and just a little bit chapped. She found it hard to believe that, less than twenty-four hours ago, those lips had been pressed against hers. They’d been so soft, while the slight scruff on his face was rough against her cheek.

As though reading her mind, Ben ran the back of his hand across the fuzz on his face. Taking a step even closer, his bright blue eyes held her gaze. Chloe felt her lips start to part and she panicked.

Diving down to her hands and knees, she reached for the items scattered across the floor. The short skirt crept up dangerously over her thighs and she tugged at it, clambering back to her feet. “I’ve gotta go,” she mumbled. “I’m so late.” She could feel her cheeks flush.

Ben looked slightly panicked. “Have fun.” He put his keys in the lock. “I’ve gotta send an email for my boss now so—”

“Totally,” she said, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Who
doesn’t
have to send out an email for their boss at eight o’clock on a Saturday night?”

Ben paused. “Chloe . . .” He eyed her through a lock of his unkempt blond hair.

“It’s cool.” She gave a half wave. “See you.”

Walking toward the stairs, Chloe immediately felt bad. She hated that things were weird with her best friend, especially about something that really, truly, didn’t matter. At the top of the stairs, she rested her hand on the railing and turned to face him.

“Ben?” she said, her voice apologetic. “This is really stupid. You were just teaching me how to go on a date. I know the . . .” She swallowed hard. “I know that it didn’t mean anything.”

Ben didn’t respond and instead shoved his hands into the pocket of his jeans.

Damn. Why did he have to do that? Chloe was looking at his jeans now, noticing the snug way they fit his thighs. She remembered exactly what his thighs had felt like, all muscle and sinew, pressed against hers.

“So.” Chloe forced her eyes back up to his. “We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. It really didn’t matter.”

Ben cocked his head. For some odd reason, Chloe caught a whiff of his cologne. He was all the way across the hallway, so how . . . ? Dipping her chin, she smelled her sweater.

Shit.
It totally smelled like Ben!

Shaking her head, Chloe couldn’t help but think that dating tip five thousand most certainly had to be: Don’t smell like another man when you go on a date. Hopefully, Geoff wouldn’t get too close. That could make things a bit awkward.

“Anyway.” Chloe tugged at her skirt and gave him a brave smile. “Wish me luck.”

“Yeah.” Ben ran a hand through his hair. It stood up on one end, just like Whiskers’ fur had this morning. She had the distinct feeling that Ben, like Whiskers, just wanted to get away. “Good luck.”

“See ya.”

“Hey,” Ben called.

“Yeah?” Chloe hesitated, feeling oddly hopeful.

“If it doesn’t go late, come over.” He shrugged. “Maybe we could watch some reality TV.”

Chloe drummed her fingers against the railing. Yeah, like that was going to happen. The days of lying in bed together were long gone. “Sure.” It was the easiest thing to say. “Have a good night.”

Clambering down the stairs, Chloe pushed open the heavy wood door and stood on the stoop, heart pounding. The street bustled with people her age, out enjoying their Saturday night. It was so strange to think that for once, she was going to join them.

“Alright. Time to go on a date.” She waited for the familiar flash of nerves but felt nothing. After last night, it all seemed pretty simple. Maybe Ben had done his job after all.

Fumbling in the purse for her phone, she cued up his name, ready to text the silly thought. Then she stopped. Even though she already missed her best friend, Chloe slid the phone back into her purse.

It would be better to just leave him alone.

Twenty-two

K
ristine was sitting on the sofa, reading her Roman history book and sipping sparkling water, when Kevin slammed the front door. “Kris! Where are you?” Bursting into the living room, he glared at her. “You sent your
mother
to talk to me? How old are you?”

What on earth?

Kristine set her book next to her on the couch. “Considering we haven’t seen each other in days,” she said, “I think a hello would be nice. After that you can yell at me about whatever June did now.”

“You really don’t know?” Pacing back and forth in his sweaty T-shirt and gym shorts, Kevin told her about June’s visit to the juice bar. “
Then
she made me drive her home! As if I didn’t have anything better to do with the few minutes I have each weekend.”

Kristine was surprised to see Kevin so worked up. His cheeks were flushed and he paced the room, moving back and forth past the glass coffee table and white brick fireplace. She wanted to tell him to take off his shoes but thought better of it.

“I can’t go to Italy right now, Kris.” His blue eyes were stormy. “I already told you that. No way.”

“I know.” She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. “You made it perfectly clear that you’re not interested.”

Kevin came to a dead stop. “Honey, I am interested,” he said. “I just can’t do it right now. Okay?”

They’d already had this conversation over the phone. Kristine didn’t want to get into it again.

“Yup,” she said, running her hand over the Roman history book.

Kevin slipped out of his T-shirt and draped it over his neck. He stood in the middle of the living room, lost in thought. She took the opportunity to study her husband’s upper body. It was as cut as it had been in college, but she didn’t feel even a flicker of attraction, which surprised her, considering they hadn’t had sex in ages.

On the other hand, why should she feel attracted to him? The only thing she felt was hurt. Hurt that he wasn’t coming with her to Rome, hurt that he’d yelled at her and hurt that he couldn’t just say he was sorry.

“Are you hungry?” Kevin tugged at his T-shirt.

Looking down at her hands, in particular her wedding ring, she shook her head. “No.”

“I’m starving.” Some of the familiar humor came back into his face. “After talking to June, I went back to the gym and worked out so hard that I’m practically digesting myself.”

Clomping across the hardwood floors and into the kitchen in his gym shoes, Kristine heard him grab a glass out of the cupboard.
Clink clink clink
, went the ice, then
whoosh.
Water rushed into his glass. Tonight, the familiar sounds didn’t make Kristine happy. It just gave her a headache.

Kevin poked his head around the corner. “I’m gonna get a pizza. Unless you’re going to kill me for ordering Italian.”

Kristine refused to smile. “Go for it.”

Drumming his hand against the wall, he said, “What do you want to do tonight? Anything?”

Kristine bit her lip. She wanted to plan a trip to Rome with her husband. To watch documentaries, plot out what they were going to see, talk to friends who had already been. But obviously, that wasn’t going to happen.

“I don’t know,” she said. “What do you want to do?”

Kevin yawned. “I’m pretty beat. The flight was so early this morning.”

“That’s okay.” She twisted the strings on a throw pillow. “Let’s just rent a movie or something.”

Kevin’s face brightened. “Maybe we can find a video on how to divorce a mother-in-law.”

“That’s enough!” Kristine leapt to her feet, tossing aside the pillow. “I have listened to you complain about my mother nonstop for the past half hour. June does what she thinks is best, because she loves us. Maybe if you were coming with me, she wouldn’t have anything to worry about.”

Kevin stared at her in surprise. “Kris, I was just kidding.”

“No, you weren’t.” Kristine gripped her hands together until her knuckles turned white. “My mother is a remarkable woman.” Pictures of June lined the mantel above the fireplace and she pointed at them, as though to remind him they were talking about a real person. “Please show some respect.”

“I do respect your mother.” Kevin shook his head. “Kris, you should have seen her today, gathering the troops at the juice bar. It was pretty funny.” When she didn’t respond, he groaned. “Firecracker, come on. I love June.” He walked over to her, setting the glass of water on the end table and opening up his arms. “And I love you.”

Kristine hesitated. Then, taking a small step forward, she leaned in. His skin was warm against her cheek, his muscles taut. He smelled like clean sweat and faded lemongrass.

“I’m sorry I’m not going to Italy with you.” Kevin’s voice was gruff. “We’ll do it one of these days. I promise you that.”

Kristine closed her eyes. She wanted to believe it, but at this point, she had to accept that he wasn’t going to change. That in some things, she was just going to have to be on her own.

Kevin’s T-shirt still dangled over his shoulders and it brushed against her cheeks. Reaching up, Kristine gripped the bottom of his shirt like an anchor. She held on tight, as though the slightest movement could wash them away.

Twenty-three

“T
here you are!” Sally raced toward Chloe in a blur of wild, curly blonde hair. “I can’t believe it.” Tackling her in a huge hug, Sally bounced up and down. Chloe bounced along, delighted to finally see her good friend.

Sally had been Chloe’s roommate at undergrad. They went on to share a crappy apartment in the “real world,” until Sally met her future husband and moved in with him. Ben liked to joke that the two friends were polar opposites, thanks to Sally’s distinct loathing for academia and, without exception, children.

“Let’s go outside and catch up, then,” Sally chirped in her adorable British accent. “It’s going to get much too loud in here, isn’t it?”

Chloe surveyed the club. The small stage was set with microphones, guitars and a drum set. Their friend from college, Michael, had gotten a small deal with a record company and was setting off on a cross-country tour. Even though she hadn’t seen Michael in years, Ben kept her up on his latest activities. Supposedly, Ben was coming to the show, not that he’d bothered to text Chloe. Four days had passed since she’d seen or heard from him. Four days! Of course, he’d probably just act like everything was normal when he showed up and pump her with questions about her date with Geoff.

“Do you want to get a drink?” Sally thrust her glass toward Chloe. “This is pretty good. Some sort of flavored-vodka thing. Peach? Pineapple? I don’t know, really.”

“No drinks for me.” Dramatically, Chloe stuck out her lower lip. “I have to study after this.”

“Aww,” Sally groaned. “Hurry up and open that practice because I’ve got a million problems to talk to you about.”

In her pink corduroy jacket and with her bright, rosy cheeks, Sally looked like a girl whose biggest problem was finding her favorite marshmallow in a box of Lucky Charms cereal. That was one of the things that Chloe loved most about her. After all of the crazy, heart-wrenching stories she had to deal with day to day, she appreciated being around someone as light as cotton candy.

Outside, it was a little chilly, so they congregated around a fire pit in the center of the concrete porch. Apartments towered over them from above, their lights bright in the dark night. The pungent odor of weed drifted over from a group of teenagers standing in the corner. Chloe grinned, happy to be part of the real world instead of stuck at her desk, slaving away at yet another paper.

“So, my date with Geoff was fun,” Chloe told Sally. “I met him next to Tiny Tumblers
and he’d set up a whole picnic in that little garden, you know, the one next door?”

Sally’s eyes widened. “That’s so romantic. I love it.”

“It was the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” Geoff had set up a blue blanket on the ground with plates, wineglasses and even two long, tapered candles. “He was afraid we’d get busted by the fire marshal, but it was so fun. Then, he took me to that little piano bar for coffee and Irish cream.”

“Get to the good stuff.” Sally’s eyes were wide. “Did he kiss you?”

“Outside the piano bar.” Geoff’s kiss had been warm and secure. It didn’t end with him slamming her up against the door or anything, but who wanted that anyway?

“You kissed him?” a familiar voice growled. “And how was that?”

Chloe turned to find herself face-to-face with Ben. Dressed in a ratty blue baseball cap and a U2
Joshua Tree
T-shirt, he was more attractive than ever. Crossing her arms, she glared at him.

“The kiss was great,” she said. “Believe it or not, he even called me the very next day.”

“Ben!” Sally bounced up and down. “Hel
lo,
gorgeous.” Rushing forward, she leapt into his arms.

As Sally wrapped her white jeans-clad legs around him, Chloe felt a pang of jealousy for her cute blonde friend. Now that there was some weird boundary between Chloe and Ben, it would be a while before she could hug him at all.

“Ben, can you
believe
Chloe has a boyfriend?” Sally screeched, sliding back to the ground. She boxed Chloe’s arm in excitement. “Maybe Norman will stop telling me we got married too young, if we can finally have some decent couples to go out with.”

Ben looked at Chloe in surprise. “He’s your
boy
friend? That was fast.”

Technically, Sally was just being dramatic. But if that’s what Ben wanted to believe, then let him.

“Ben, don’t be jealous,” Sally scolded. “You are just going to have to accept the fact that you officially missed out on your chance with our Chloe.”

There was a tense silence, except for the crackle of the log in the fire and the muted sounds of the band warming up indoors. After a long moment, Ben took a step forward and clapped Chloe on the back. The heat of his hand seemed to burn through her shirt.

“Sally, I think it’s great,” he said. “I thought she was just going to ignore every man on the planet until she opened her practice.”

Chloe looked at him, surprised. “I’ve never said anything like that.”

Ben tugged at the rim of his baseball cap. “It’s not what you said,” he mumbled. “It’s how you act.”

In some ways, he was right. Her schedule had been so packed for the past few years that she hadn’t had time to give to anybody. But if there had been a guy really worth it, someone that she could really be herself around, she would have made the time. Other than Ben, no one fit the criteria.

“You’re hardly a person qualified to decide whether or not I’m open to love,” she told him. “You don’t even know the definition of the word.”

Ben ripped off his baseball cap. His blond curls shot out in nine different directions. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, goody.” Sally jumped up and down. “Fight.
Fight!
The band hasn’t even started playing yet and it’s getting real out on the patio.”

Chloe clapped him hard on the back, just like he’d done to her. His muscles were taut beneath his soft T-shirt. “I’ve seen the way you fall in love.”

Ben scowled. “And how’s that?”

Chloe gave Sally a knowing smile. “Ben is all whispers and innuendos. But at the end of the day, he goes out of his way—even enlists my help—to send girls far, far away. Do you think that sounds like an expert on love?”

Sally laughed, clapping her hands. “Poor Ben. We’ll help you find somebody, one of these days.” The muffled sound of electric guitars shot out from the club. “Ooh, they’re starting. Shall we?”

As they walked into the club, Chloe could feel Ben glaring at her over the top of Sally’s blonde curls. She turned to glare back, then stopped in surprise. The look he was giving her wasn’t angry at all. It was . . . hurt.

“I’m sorry.” He leaned in close, so that only she could hear. His voice was low, his breath warm against her ear. “I should have called.”

Her heart clutched. Yes, of course he should have. Ben was her
best friend
. It was so ridiculous that they’d stopped talking because of one stupid kiss.

After a moment, she shrugged. “It’s fine. Next time, right?”

He pulled his cap low over his eyes. “Yeah.” He leaned against the back wall and settled in to watch the band. “Next time.”