“I’m going to take a whole month off,” he promised, winking at her as he put his arms around her waist. “I’ll be around here so much you’ll be begging me to go back to work!”
“You’ve said that so many times I’ve given up hope of it ever happening.”
“Don’t be like that...”
“Don’t be like what?” she repeated, her eyes narrowed, her tone harsh as if her tongue was coated with the bitter, acrid film of resentment and anger. She wasn’t backing down. “I’m sick of being a single parent. It’s time you stepped up and became the man of the house.”
He dropped his hands from around her waist. “Until I hire a suitable manager for the downtown location, I’m in charge. That means I’m the first one at Samson’s and the last one to leave. What do you expect me to do when the women are dawdling in the changing room or the Michael Jordan wannabes ask for five more minutes on the court to perfect their jump shot? Tell them to get out because my wife’s given me a nine-o’clock curfew?”
Simone gave him a look that could freeze hell. “This is not about me. It’s about the boys. Jayden and Jordan are constantly asking me where you are, and I hate making up excuses for why you’re not here with us—”
“Thanks, Simone, I can always count on you to make me feel like crap.” Marcus crushed the water bottle and hurled it into the recycling bin. “I don’t have the energy to argue with you. I had a long day, and all I want to do is take a shower and go to bed.”
Anticipating his next move, Simone slid beside the stove, cutting off his intended escape route. Arms crossed, her furious scowl matching the smoke in her eyes, she spoke freely, without restraint. “All you care about is your business and hanging out with your asinine friends. You don’t care about me or the kids or our family. We hardly see you anymore, and when you’re here, you’re on your cell or working in the office.”
“What are you talking about? Everything I do is for you and the kids.”
“Just admit it. You’d rather be out having fun with your staff than—”
“Having fun?” He barked a loud, harsh laugh. “Do you have any idea how crazy things are at the new downtown location? I’m so busy I have to schedule bathroom breaks.”
Simone hated seeing the defeated expression on Marcus’s face, hated herself for being the one who put it there. Taking a deep breath helped her regain control. Her husband didn’t respond to threats, and although there was a lot more Simone wanted to say, she knew when it was time to back off. “Can you at least try to be home by dinner, so we can eat together as a family—”
“I’m going to bed.” His words were clipped, his tone stiff. “Good night.”
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“But I made chicken marsala.” Simone opened the microwave, took out an overflowing dish and set it down on the granite countertop. “I made it just the way you like it, with tons of garlic, fresh basil and oregano.”
“I had a steak burger at the bar.”
Simone watched Marcus trudge out of the kitchen and up the winding staircase. On the second floor, she heard his steps slow, then stop, and knew he was checking on Jayden and Jordan. He did it every night, no matter how late he got home.
Simone stood there, as still as a mannequin in a department store window. She didn’t know if it was arguing with Marcus or all the hours she had spent scrubbing the kitchen floors, but she could feel the beginnings of a headache. What just happened? she wondered, massaging her temples. Marcus is the one who messed up, so why do I feel guilty?
After putting the food in the fridge and turning off the lights, Simone checked on Jayden and Jordan. They looked so peaceful, asleep in their deluxe bunk beds, clutching their teddy bears. She stood in the doorway, watching her babies sleep, and felt such an overwhelming sense of love that tears pricked her eyes. It was hard to believe they were already in kindergarten. They were growing up so fast, learning so many new words and skills that she was struggling to keep up.
Seeing her sons lifted Simone’s spirits, and as she walked down the hallway, past the den and the playroom, a smile warmed her lips. She had two beautiful children; a gorgeous, lavish home; and, for the first time in her life, financial security. And once Marcus stopped taking her for granted, and put their family first, she’d have the marriage she had always dreamed of.
Inside the master bedroom, the balcony doors were ajar, allowing the dazzling, crescent moon to light the colorful, cozy space. Marcus was perched on the edge of their custom-made bed in his boxer shorts, clutching his cell phone. He looked deep in thought, as if he was grappling with the answer to a trigonometry problem, but Simone knew he was only checking the day’s football scores. “The couples seminar I mentioned to you last week is being held at the Regency on Saturday night,” she said, “and I’d really appreciate it if you were on time. It starts at five o’clock.”
Marcus rested his cell phone on the side table. “I’ll try my best, but I have a session with that Persian fitness model on Saturday afternoon, and her workouts always tend to run long.”
I bet they do. “Please be on time. This is important to me.”
“Like I said, I’ll try, but there’s no telling when she’ll show up.”
“Then find someone else to train her and come home early.”
Her suggestion was met with a yawn.
“I don’t even know why you signed us up for that seminar. We’re fine.”
“We haven’t been fine for a long time,” Simone confessed, avoiding his gaze. “We argue constantly, and there’s no intimacy in our relationship.”
“What are you talking about? We were intimate a few days ago.” A mischievous expression crossed his face. “As I recall, you came twice that night.”
Her lips parted, but no words came out. He’s joking, right? Surely her husband knew the difference between sex and intimacy. But when Simone saw the proud, I’m-the-man grin stretched boldly across his mouth, she sighed. Apparently not.
Marcus must have read the bewildered expression on her face, must have seen the genuine confusion in her eyes, because he shrugged nonchalantly and said, “Whatever. Play dumb. But we both know you have no complaints in the bedroom.”
Simone paused. It was true. They had an amazing sex life, and Marcus’s kisses left her breathless. But French kisses and multiple orgasms couldn’t fill the void she was feeling inside. Neither did weekly shopping sprees or sessions at her favorite day spa. She longed for more, for a deeper, emotional connection with her husband.
“Can’t we just listen to one of Dr. Phil’s audiobooks or something? I don’t want to discuss our problems with a bunch of strangers. You know how people talk.”
“This is a professional, highly acclaimed seminar, not one of your mom’s weekly bitch sessions at your aunt Lorraine’s house—” Simone stopped herself. But when she saw the harsh glint in Marcus’s eyes she knew she’d crossed the proverbial line. “You have nothing to worry about. No one will ever know we went.”
“Fine,” he said, his mouth a firm, hard line. “If it will make you happy, I’ll go.”
“Great.”
“Good.”
Then Marcus stalked into the en suite bathroom and slammed the door so hard it rattled the balcony-door windows.
Chapter 2
Deep in thought, Simone plopped down on the king-size bed and kicked off her slippers. The pain of her husband’s neglect weighed on her, felt so heavy on her chest she couldn’t breathe. If I wasn’t