“Cynthia?” the man’s voice asked, but it wasn’t Will. This voice was deeper, quieter, as though he didn’t want anyone to hear him but her.
“Yes, this is Cynthia. Who’s calling?”
The man hesitated for a moment. “Baby, it’s Nigel.”
Nigel. The name didn’t ring even the slightest bell, although he said it as if it explained everything. But he called her “baby.” She didn’t like that at all. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember you. I’ve had an accident and the doctors diagnosed me with amnesia.”
“Amnesia? My God, Cynthia. I’ve got to see you. These past few weeks I’ve been going mad with worry. Your cell phone is disconnected. I couldn’t get into the hospital because I wasn’t family. All I know is what I read in the papers about the crash, and it wasn’t much. Please tell me I can see you soon. Maybe tomorrow while Will is at work?”
Cynthia’s stomach sank. Will hadn’t elaborated on the details of her affair, but it didn’t take much to realize Nigel was her lover.
Will’s voice crept into her mind. You have a choice.
And she did. The past was the past. Will had offered her a clean slate and with it, perhaps a future together. At first, she hadn’t been quite certain what to make of it. She had obviously been unhappy with Will before and wasn’t certain if a bump to the head could make everything better between them. But she at least wanted to try. For now, she wanted Will to stay. The man on the phone would ruin any chance they had.
“No, I’m sorry.”
“Baby, wait. I’ll take an early train from the Bronx and meet you for coffee.”
“No. Please stop calling. Goodbye.” She disconnected and set the phone back onto the cradle. A few seconds later it rang again, the same number lighting up the screen. She didn’t answer it. The phone finally went silent and she waited nervously for a moment, but he didn’t call back.
That done, she took a deep breath and returned to the closet to get ready for her first dinner with Will.
Three
Will sat at his desk, staring blankly at his laptop. After dinner, he’d returned to his office to work as he usually did. He spent most evenings working. Newspapers didn’t run themselves, and given that most of his days were filled with unproductive but necessary meetings, it was the only time he could dig through his email and actually get something done. Some people might’ve been bothered by the long hours he put in to keep the Observer at the top of its game, but Will didn’t mind. In fact, over the past few years, his office and unending stream of work had become a sanctuary from his failing relationship.
And yet tonight, with at least a hundred unread emails in his inbox, he couldn’t focus on the work. His thoughts kept straying to Cynthia.
He watched her roam around the apartment through the glass French doors that separated his office from the living room. When he’d left to pick up dinner, he thought things were okay between them. Better than okay if he let himself think too long about her shower-damp skin and the skimpy bath towel she was wrapped in. He hadn’t seen that much of Cynthia’s body in quite some time, and his visceral reaction to her was immediate and powerful. Fortunately the brisk walk to the takeout place had served as a cold shower, and by the time he had returned, he had it under control.
But now she seemed nervous around him. They’d eaten their Thai food in the dining room, filling the space between bites with harmless small talk. But he noticed an edge that wasn’t there earlier. When the phone rang, she nearly launched from her seat to beat him to answering it, and it was just Pauline checking to make sure she was settled in. The mother and daughter chatted while he cleaned up dinner and disappeared into his office.
Will couldn’t help but think that maybe she’d picked up on his attraction and it made her uncomfortable. He’d mentioned the possibility of a future together—nothing was impossible—but he wasn’t sold on the idea. He just wished his body and brain were on the same page.
He wasn’t surprised when she disappeared into the bedroom fairly early. She was probably exhausted after her first day out of the hospital. On top of the physical challenges, their talk had stirred up a lot of information that could be stressful to process. Dumping their past on her today was probably a mistake with her fragile condition, but she wanted honesty.
Given her nerves around him, he should probably sleep in the guest room tonight. It would make everyone more comfortable, and he could use the space to keep objective about all this.
With the apartment silent and dark, Will was able to focus on his work again. He finally shut down for the night near midnight. He would be up the next day by six, but those were standard hours for him. He could sleep when he was dead. Or retired. Whichever came first.
The next morning, he was up, dressed and having coffee by the time Cynthia stumbled into the kitchen. She was wearing navy silk pajamas under her robe, her hair pulled into a ponytail. Her eyes were still blurry and her face lined from a night of heavy sleep. The woman he knew would never let anyone, not even him, see her like this. She always emerged from the bedroom with her hair and makeup done. Will had to swallow his surprise in a large swig of coffee. He really needed to come to terms with Cynthia as a new person, but it was hard to change his every expectation of her.
“Good morning,” she said, gently rubbing her eyes.
“Morning,” he replied, getting up to refill his mug. “Would you like some coffee?”
“No,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I tried some in the hospital and didn’t like it.”
Will returned to the table and slid a plate with a couple pieces of buttered whole-wheat toast toward her. He couldn’t stomach much more than that this early, but if he didn’t eat something, he’d never make it through the morning column reviews. “I made some toast. There’s tea and cocoa in the cabinet if you’re interested.”
Cynthia settled into one of the kitchen chairs and took a piece of toast from the plate. She seemed a lot more relaxed than she had last night, and Will was relieved. Perhaps some time alone in the apartment would help her adjust.
“I hate to leave so soon after you got up, but I need to get to the office. I’m going to try not to stay too late.”
“You work a lot,” she commented.
Will shrugged, rising from the table and putting his mug in the sink. “I do what I have to. Now, the maid should be here today around noon, so you won’t be alone. I asked her to make dinner so we don’t have to go out. She’s planning to go through all the classic recipes so you can try them. I think we’re up for pot roast tonight.”
“Okay.” She nodded, although her brow was wrinkled in confusion again.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“It feels weird to have someone cook and clean up after me. I guess it probably shouldn’t, but it does.”
“I’m sure you’ll adjust to the luxury of it in no time, especially once you try Anita’s eggplant parmesan. She’s truly gifted in the kitchen. If you need anything,” he said as he slipped into his suit coat, “call my cell phone. I’ve left you a list of numbers on the refrigerator, including your folks and some friends if you get lonely.”
“Thank you,” she said, standing up to see him out.
They walked to the front door, where he grabbed his laptop bag. “I’ll see you tonight.” On reflex, he started to lean in to give her a goodbye kiss. In that fraction of a second, he noticed her eyes widen and her body tense up. Given her reaction after yesterday’s kiss, it was probably a horrible idea, even as a casual