Page 42 of Wife Unwanted
"I came to you because of him, remember? Let's face it Carey, if I didn't take his money, you'd have forgotten all about me."
He didn't even try to rebut me. He knew I was right. Someone like him would never have cared about me after I was no longerin his life. The only reason he ever felt something for me after we were older was because his father put me in front of him. The realization depressed me and whether it was that or the excess drugs in my system, I no longer felt like sleeping. I was feeling restless, so I got up.
"What are you doing?" Carey started coming over to help me up, but I pushed him away.
"I don't want to sleep anymore."
"You need to rest. You heard what the doctor said."
I shrugged as I went to the closet and slid my feet into a pair of slippers. "Sue me," I said when I came back.
"If you want something, I can go get it for you."
That made me pause. Carey has never shown any ounce of affection towards me, let alone my health. He even looked worried. "It's just a coke." I strolled past him on my way to the kitchen.
"Coke!"
I could hear him tracing my steps behind me, and I rolled my eyes. The kitchen was dark, and I didn't bother turning the light on as I let muscle memory lead me to the fridge. "A coke,"I said as I pulled out the red and white can out of the fridge. He stared, dumbfounded, his face illuminated by the fridge light.
"What did you think I was going to do? Grab a bag of coke from my dealer waiting for me outside?"
"I've never seen you drink one of those."
I closed the fridge. "It could be the drug. I'm craving soda drinks so bad." I cracked open the can and marched past him. Not only was I craving a drink, but I was also feeling really hot. Or was it the apartment? It was well conditioned, but it didn't feel enough. I made my way to the terrace and sat on the bench swing. The cool air and city noise somehow calmed me down. I took a sip of the sweet drink and let it cool my parched throat. This tasted better than it ought to and I wondered if it wasbecause of the drink being better than I remember it, or was it the drug?The bench swung back, and I turned to see Carey take a seat next to me with a drink of his own in his hand. "I wonder if the makers of this drug work for soda company. This stuff has never tasted this good."
"Are you okay?" Carey asked.
"I am not feeling like attempting to jump over the building, so don't worry, your career will be fine. I am not going to 'chappaquiddick'it."
Carey rolled his eyes, and I had to admit, it made him more handsome. He looked down at his drink as though contemplating whether to take a sip or not. "Somehow, I know my father would find a way to make something like that disappear from the media. He's better at this than Joseph P Kennedy."
"Do you want it?"
Carey took time to answer. And just when I thought he was not going to, he said, "Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Sometimes I want to leave my life and become someone else."
"A sailor?"
His smile was sad. "That sounds nice. But we can't all have what we want, can't we?"
"You could. You don't have to do everything your father tells you to."
He took a sip of his drink and looked out at the gold and black skyline. "It's not like I hate my job. I like it. Sometimes it's all I want to do."
"And politics?"
The terrace went silent. Even the sounds of the city felt distant. A breeze wafted by and I clutched my chest. Carey slid over to my side and embraced me.
"It's what I should do." He said behind my ear. I ignored the little tendrils of electricity running down my spine as spoke. His voice was doing something to me. It sounded melodic.
"Should or coerced into doing?"
"I choose my own path, Thalia."
"Do you?"
He glared at me and then went back to staring into blank space. "You're an exception."
"I don't know. I think I am the rule."
