Page 11 of Lessons In Love
Delaney:Well with that glowing synopsis, how could I not have a blast?!
With that, and determined to have fun tomorrow despite her absence, I take my plate into the kitchen, dump everything unceremoniously into a container and pop it into the fridge. Rinsing my plate and wine glass, I put them in the dishwasher, turning off the kitchen light and going to my room.
The office door is still closed, yellow light shining from under the door, illuminating a small arc. I briefly debate knocking, trying to talk Myles into finishing what he’s working on in the morning and coming to bed with me, but decide against it in favor or taking a long bath.
I soak in the hot, fragrant water until my fingers are pruney, dragging myself out and into a warm towel. As I go about my bedtime routine, I listen for any indication that Myles might be coming to bed with me.
My fingers glide over the silky crimson teddy I’d gotten recently to surprise Myles with on our trip. Plucking it out of the drawer, I quickly pull it over my legs, drawing the straps over my shoulders and shuffling my breasts into the cups.
I don’t often wear lingerie, but looking at myself in the mirror, I’m shocked. Even without my usual minimal makeup, my hair piled high on my head in a messy bun, and my skin flushed from the hot water of my bath, I look different—sexy.
Adjusting the bedside lamps for mood lighting, knowing Myles won’t appreciate the fire hazard of candles scattered around the room, I hop onto the bed, settling myself in the middle, reclining against a throne of plush pillows.
I fidget several times, waiting in silence for him to arrive. Glancing at the clock, realizing I’ve been here for nearly an hour, I huff, moving to my side of the bed, reaching to turn off my lamp and pulling the comforter over my hips.
My heavy eyes close, holding back tears of frustration that I refuse to shed. My mind wanders to Lachlan. His callous actions nearly destroyed me and it took me years to get to a point where I could even entertain the idea of a date, let alone a relationship.
I internalized Lachlan’s disappearance, wondering if I’d done something to make him leave without a word. He never said he loved me—not with those words—but his actions made me believe his feelings for me were serious.
Now he says he didn’t mean to hurt me? That he did itforme? I scoff, tossing. The plush mattress envelops me, making me wish it was the arms of a man who loves me, and one traitorous tear slips down my cheek. Cursing quietly, I dash it away with the back of my hand.
How would my life be different if Lachlan had stayed? Would we have gotten married? Had kids?I can’t stop the shudder at the idea of having a family of my own. My parents are still happily married, and I’ve always dreamt of finding a man who will treat me like my dad treats my mom.Could Lachlan have been that man?
I know Lachlan’s family is well-off, but they don’t live lavishly like Myles. I toss and turn, mentally comparing the two men, coming to the conclusion that they couldn’t be more different if they tried. I’ve just closed my eyes again when I hear the door open and Myles walk in.
He doesn’t try to keep his movements quiet, despite the appearance that I’m asleep. When he’s ready for bed, he throws the comforter back, sending cool air over my flushed skin. My eyes open, staring up into his shadowed gaze.
He scoffs. “Red lingerie? How original.” Turning to turn off the light without another word, he settles onto the mattress, finding his spot, and is sound asleep, snoring quietly, within two minutes.
“Goodnight,darling,” I whisper snarkily, knowing he doesn’t hear me.
As I drift to sleep, I wonder if Lachlan is sleeping alone tonight.
SIX
DELANEY
Myles’ side of the bed is cold when I wake up, reaching over to say good morning. He’s often already been up for several hours before I’m awake on the weekends, so I’m not surprised—just disappointed. I really wanted to seduce him, though when I think about it now, I realize it’s a desperate attempt to patch something irrevocably broken.
Throwing the blanket back with a sigh, I strip out of the teddy, cursing the tight strap marks now lacing my skin. Quickly making the bed and getting dressed, I make my way in the kitchen. As I pass the office, I hear raised voices. Tempted to listen at the door, I think better of it, realizing I don’t want to know what Myles is keeping from me—not really.
Cutting up fresh fruit to put on top of the crepes I’m making, I think about the fruit Lachlan brought that night, and my heart whelms with longing. I allow myself to feel that happiness for a moment before locking it away with the pain of longing when he left.
Unable to stomach the memory, I dump the fruit—cutting board and all—into the trash, pulling eggs out of the fridge instead. Myles emerges sometime later, grabbing a premade smoothie and downing it as if he’s just spent hours in the gym rather than sitting in his leather chair plotting ways to get heinous criminals back onto the street.
I smile, watching him, waiting for him to address me. When he tosses the bottle into the trash, turning without a word to return to his office, I know I’m in for a long, silent afternoon before the reunion tonight.
*****
The reunion is in full swing by the time Myles and I arrive, excitement and nostalgia enveloping me as I walk the decorated halls of Miami Killian High for the first time in a decade. When the doors to the gymnasium open, flanked by balloons in the school colors—black, silver, and forest green—the dim lights spill from beyond. Music plays in the background, loud enough to hear, but not enough to drown out the excited chatter as people get reacquainted. I laugh when I realize, as the song changes, that they’re playing popular tracks from 2013.God, I feel old.
I take the arm that Myles offers, walking around the room, introducing him to my old friends. Some are easy to recognize, having changed little in the intervening years, but some require prompting or surreptitious glances at their name tags. Myles is among the oldest in attendance and I can see him getting annoyed as I introduce him to people he won’t remember tomorrow.
His eyebrows pinch together, weariness evident in the grimace he tries to disguise as I chat with my old lab partner and her husband, fake-gushing over photos of their two children—who kindadoresemble barnyard animals.
Myles excuses himself, returning a while later with a beer and a glass of wine for me. I thank him, smiling up at him, worried by the look in his cold eyes. This is the first time I can remember him being so unfriendly toward me in public—usually he reserves the cold shoulder as retaliation when we’re home, with no witnesses.
We take our leave, milling about the periphery of the room, smiling politely as people greet us. I take a small sip of the acidic wine, wincing and determined to carry it around with me throughout the evening as a barrier. Butterflies flutter wildly in my stomach as I wonder if Lachlan is planning to come tonight and how I’ll handle seeing him again.Oh shit. How will I handle being in the same room as himandMyles?
