Page 24 of His Loving Guidance
Chapter Four
The forbidden fruit she’d picked earlier now tasted bitter. Stephie tried to concentrate on Darla’s tale about her most recent ex-boyfriend begging to be taken back, but her thoughts drifted and her stomach soured. It was two in the afternoon. She wondered if Marcus had noted her absence yet. He’d probably called her. He always called between his classes around noontime. Would he worry when she didn’t answer and return his calls?
Her tummy flipped. Hell yes, he’d worry. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the waiter brought their post-lunch coffee.
“What wrong?” Darla asked. “Are you listening to me?”
“Yes, I’m listening.” Stephie sipped her coffee.
“So what should I do? Should I take Eddie back?”
Uh oh. Stephie honestly didn’t know why Darla had broken up with this Eddie guy in the first place. Her thoughts had been completely on Marcus. But her sister appeared desperate for advice, and Stephie didn’t want to disappoint her. Especially since she’d taken a personal day at work so they could spend some time together before attending the exhibit tonight.
“Do you trust him? Do you love him? Does he make you feel special and like you’re the only girl on the planet who matters to him?” Stephie asked, and her eyes widened with the knowledge of what she’d just done. Described Marcus. The husband she’d disobeyed and would have to face sooner or later. Knowing him, probably sooner. She’d bet her already sore bottom he was currently en route for New York. She’d turned her phone off, but she suspected it would buzz with a slew of messages and texts after she turned it back on.
Darla twirled a blonde curl between her fingers and sighed. She stared up at the ceiling. “No, Stephie. I don’t trust him. I want to, but I guess I know I never will. He makes me happy sometimes, but it’s not love. I just want to find Mr. Right, you know? Like you and Marcus. You two are so obviously in love. I’m totally jealous.” Darla smiled and shrugged. “Guess my big sister will always be smarter than me, huh?”
Stephie laughed. “Can I get you to put that in writing?”
“Never!” Darla smirked, and the waiter soon appeared with their check.
The two of them spent the rest of the afternoon shopping. Stephie knew she should turn on her phone, but the thought of facing Marcus scared her. She wasn’t frightened of him, but she dreaded to hear the disappointment in his tone. Sure, he’d sound angry, but after five years of marriage she could detect all the layers of his emotions. He’d try to be strong and hide his vulnerability, as he’d done during her illness, but she’d still detect it tinging his voice with a soft, wavering note.
Evening arrived, and Stephie and Darla had just enough time to dash back to Darla’s apartment to get ready. After slipping into a flowing, dark purple dress, Stephie finally turned on her phone.
It nearly convulsed and buzzed out of her hand.
Oh sweet heavens, she should’ve at least had the courtesy of leaving Marcus a note. But she hadn’t. She’d been selfish and naughty. Tears clouded her eyes, and she blinked rapidly to hold them in and keep her emotions in check. They had to leave in five minutes. She couldn’t dissolve into a mess. It was her big night. Her first big night in forever, and she planned to own it. To show Marcus she wasn’t a dainty thing to be coddled and kept hidden from the world.
She couldn’t bear to listen to his frantic messages, but she scanned the texts. She blinked back more tears and ended up wiping few away. Dammit. He was worried sick and it was all her fault. She opened a new text and typed his name in.
I’m okay. Please don’t worry. I’m with Darla in New York. We’re leaving for the exhibit soon. I’ll call you later. Love you.
Send. She immediately shut the phone off, knowing if she spoke with Marcus before the exhibit, she’d show up with raccoon eyes from crying away her mascara. Her illness had been no secret, and she didn’t wish for her solo debut back into the art world to be tinged with whispers and curious stares. She’d attended a few functions with Marcus by her side, always the supportive husband, but this was her first time without him. Darla didn’t count as a babysitter.
Rather than navigate through the congested city streets and fight for a parking spot, they opted for a taxi. The exhibit buzzed with people by the time they arrived, and Stephie worked the room after greeting the curator. Darla stuck by her side, until a good looking young man who reeked of money began flirting with her. Stephie winked at her sister and went in search of a cocktail. As she crossed the room with the drink in hand, her eyes locked with a pair of intense, dark brown ones.
Marcus.
Her heart stopped and all noise in the room faded into the background. She attempted to recover from the shock of seeing him, but it was no use. She felt rattled down to her bones. How had he known where to find her? She hadn’t mentioned the location of the exhibit. Insides quaking and churning, she approached him on shaky legs. The heels she’d slipped into wobbled beneath her feet. He closed the distance between them and grasped her forearm with a gentleness that warred with the anger flaring in his gaze.
Goosebumps crawled across her arms and a shiver prickled her spine. He stared at her and his calm anger unnerved her further. Agitation radiated from his whole body. His jaw tensed and she repressed a shudder.
This was bad. Very bad. She’d seriously screwed up. She was in so much trouble.
Or was she really? He’d given her one actual punishment spanking since they’d resumed the DD side of their relationship. It could’ve been a fluke. Maybe he wouldn’t actually chastise her.
She’d find out soon enough.
“Good evening, Marcus,” she said, almost a whisper.
“Good evening, Stephie.” His tone was as hard and unforgiving as his eyes.
She stood taller and lifted her chin. “Thanks for coming to the exhibit, but as you can see, I made it just fine. You didn’t need to go to the trouble.”
The hand on her forearm squeezed. His eyes flashed. A warning.
“You’re my wife. I’ll always go to the trouble.” Again, his livid yet quiet tone struck fear into her heart. If he spanked her for this disobedience, it would be one hell of a spanking.
