Page 75 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
“How did I do?” he asks, looking straight ahead.
“You're good, Mr. Turner.” I want to get a reaction out of him. “You're very good. Everyone in there thinks you're madly in love with me.”
He looks straight ahead of him as we continue to walk. As if what I’ve just said means nothing.
“They loved you,” I tell him.
He makes an agreeing noise in his throat.
“Are you having fun? Or is this killing you?” I’m becoming slowly worried that I might have ruined his Saturday evening. “Did you have a better offer from your wife?”
“She's now my ex-wife.”
The sentence hangs in the air like damp. I stop and face him, forcing him to stop. “It came through?”
He nods.
“When were you going to tell me?” I ask, not understanding why he hasn’t shouted this from rooftops.
“Did you need to know?”
His words sting. I try to compose myself. “Did you not think I needed to know?”
He doesn’t answer.
“How did … how did she react?” I ask.
He sighs, his chest rising and falling. “As I expected.” He starts to walk again, making it obvious that he doesn’t want to talk about it. I don't push it, but my heart jumps like an excited child in a toy shop.
“Congratulations.” It’s what he wanted. “How did your daughter take the news?”
“She doesn't know yet.”
“Shestilldoesn’t know? Don't you think you should tell her now, before she hears it from someone else?” I feel sorry for the poor child. It's not fair on her, believing that her parents are together.
“We will.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and lowers his head.
“Thanks, for tonight,” I say, wishing he would look at me, wishing he would touch me, wishing he would say something.Dosomething. He’s been the perfect date to bring tonight, so good to me, and such a hit with everyone. I like being with him. I place my palm against his stomach and instantly, it hardens. I splay my fingers out, exploring the tautness as I slide my hand over the dips and valleys.
“What are you doing?” His voice is husky.
“I can't help it.” I slide a finger through the gap between his buttons and hear him suck in a breath. His stomach is rock hard. “Megan.” His voice sounds weak.
“You've been such an attentive boyfriend.” I stroke his warm skin expecting him to respond. I've come to read him well. He pretends not to care, to act as if he doesn’t want me, as if I don’t matter to him, but one touch, one stroke can undo all his hard fought composure. He presses his lips together and looks away.
He wants me, but he’s trying his hardest to hide it. He slowly brings his face towards me again. “You asked me to make them believe. Do you think they believe?”
I tilt my face upwards. “They believe it.”
Ibelieve it. Staring up at his face I see the silver orb of the moon high in the night sky. It seems like an ending, or a new beginning.
I know what I want, and I want him.
“But it's only fake, right?” He moves my hand away from his stomach. His eyes glitter under the moonlight. They’re dark, not blue, in the hazy night.
I swallow. “It doesn’t have to be.” He is free now. We can fall into this thing headfirst. I'm partway there, back in the thick of all that angst and emotion my teenage hormones riddled me with.
But now? What now at this age and at this time in our lives?
