Not until she’d asked the most important question.
She rinsed the last plate, put it in the strainer, then tackled a pan, keeping her gaze away from Cole’s. “And what about a family?”
He let out a nervous laugh. “Family? Emily, we’re far from ready for kids.”
It’s what he’d said a thousand times over the years. Every time she’d brought up kids, he’d said it wasn’t the right time, or that they’d talk about it later. She pulled the plug, let the soapy water drain, and placed her hands on the rim of the sink. All that silly, foolish hope in her chest drained away, too.
“When do you think we’ll be ready? When we get a bigger house or the company reaches another sales goal or we have another million saved in retirement?” She snorted and turned away from him. “It’s never the right time, Cole.”
“We’re a few pieces of paper away from being divorced, Emily. I’d say that’s the worst possible time to have a child.”
Emily sighed. “Yeah, Cole, it is.” Then she left the kitchen and headed up to her room, where the pillow would muffle her hurt.
COLE SLEPT THROUGH his alarm. Slept through the buzzing of his phone. Slept through the sunrise. He’d slept in the best hotel rooms in the world, owned a mattress that cost more than a small car, and yet he had never slept as soundly or as well as he had in the double bed in the pale blue room on the second floor of the Gingerbread Inn.
He rolled over, blinked a bleary eye at his phone and decided whoever was calling him could wait a little longer. This...decadence filled him with a peace he had never felt before. Whatever was happening at work would be there later, while Cole just...was. Right here, right now, in a cozy bedroom across the hall from Emily, in a quaint inn in Massachusetts. He lay in the bed, watching the sun dance on the floor, while birds chirped a song above the faint sounds of a distant lawn mower.
Then he heard the soft melody of a woman’s voice, singing along with the radio. It took him a moment to realize it was Emily’s voice. He hadn’t heard her singing in...
Hell, ten years. At least.
He pulled on his jeans and padded barefoot out of his room and across the hall. Her door stood ajar, the bed made, the room neat and clean. When had Emily become a neatnik? She’d always been the messier one in their relationship, something that had driven him crazy when they were together. Then, when he was on his own, he’d missed seeing her makeup on the bathroom counter, her coat tossed over the dining room chair, her shoes kicked off on the bedroom carpet. He’d tried leaving his own things out but it wasn’t the same. He hesitated only a moment, then took a single step inside the room. “Em?”
The bedroom was empty. Light and steam spilled out of the attached bathroom. The shower was running, and Cole could see the familiar outline of his wife’s curves behind the translucent white curtain. Desire rushed through him, hardened against his jeans. How long had it been since he’d been with Emily?
Months. Three, to be exact. A long damned time.
He hesitated. He knew he should leave but couldn’t tear his gaze away from her shapely outline, the curve of her breasts, her hips. She was hidden by the curtain, yet he knew every dimple, every valley, every scar. He knew how to make her moan, how to make her smile, how to make her...
His.
Except she wasn’t his anymore, and he needed to face that. Accept it. Move on.
Since the separation, he’d told himself he should take off his ring. Date again. But he hadn’t. No woman had interested him the way his wife did. And maybe never would. He missed her, damn it, for more than just the warmth of her body against his.
The water stopped with a screech and a shudder of old pipes. Cole told himself to move. Leave. He didn’t do either.
The song ended and a commercial came on the radio. Emily’s voice trailed off as she reached up and tugged down the towel draped over the shower curtain. She jerked back the curtain and let out a shriek. “Cole! You scared me. What are you doing in here?”
Shit. He should have left. Now he looked like some overeager hormonal teenager, which was how he felt whenever he was around Emily. Even now, even after everything.
“Your, uh, door was open. And I heard you singing and...” He forced his gaze up from the hourglass shape outlined by the fluffy white towel. “I can’t remember the last time I heard you singing.”
A flush filled her cheeks and her gaze shifted to the floor. “I’m a terrible singer.”
“Didn’t sound that way to me. It was nice.” He swallowed hard. “I’ve missed your singing. You used to sing all the time when we were first married.”
She laughed. “That’s because we couldn’t even afford a TV. My singing was our only entertainment.”
“I wouldn’t say it was our only entertainment.” His gaze met hers. Heat filled the space between them. Cole had never been so acutely aware of his wife’s naked body, and the thin scrap of cotton separating them. She’d put on a few pounds in the past couple months, but they only added to her curves and made her more desirable. He ached to take her in his arms, to let the towel fall to the floor and to taste that sweet, warm, peach skin.
“Those were different days then,” she said, her voice low and soft. She fiddled with the edge of the towel. “Better days.”
Had she stopped singing because she’d stopped being happy? Started again today because she was happier without him? Or had he stopped paying attention to Emily so long ago that he didn’t notice her singing? Her happiness?
“You liked it better when we were poor?” he asked. “Living in that tiny fifth-floor walk-up, freezing in the winter and roasting in the summer?”
“Yeah, I did.”
He’d hated those days. Always struggling, feeling like he’d failed, the constant battle to get his business off the ground at night while he sweated on a construction site during the day. Working, working, working, and getting frustrated at how long it took to get from nowhere to somewhere. “Why? We had nothing, Emily.”
“Nothing except each other,” she said. She raised her gaze to his. Tears shimmered in her green eyes. “That was always enough for me, Cole. But it was never enough for you.”
He let out a gust. Why did it always come down to this? Didn’t she understand, he’d done all of this for her? For them? For their future together? The hours he’d worked, the effort he’d put in to take the business from their apartment kitchen table to a global power had been a constant source of friction between them. In the early days, Emily had supported him, but as the years wore on, that support had eroded into frustration and a cold, silent war.
“You can’t blame me for wanting more, Emily. For wanting success. Look at us now. We have everything we always wanted.”
A bittersweet smile crossed her face. “No. You have everything you ever wanted.” The smile shifted, became something he couldn’t read, as if Emily had a secret that only she knew. She nodded toward the door. “I’d appreciate it if you left now.”
He did as she asked and left the room, shutting the door behind him, and feeling more lost than he had ever felt before. Cole was a smart man who had built his company from nothing into a global player. Who had taken them from a run-down apartment to a mansion in a tony suburb outside New York City. All along, he’d thought he was on the same path that Emily wanted.
Now it turned out he’d been wrong. For a long, long time.
* * *
Sleep