Joy and Anger (The Contemporary Collection Book 3) by Blake Jennifer

Author:Blake, Jennifer [Blake, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Steel Magnolia Press
Published: 2015-09-22T16:00:00+00:00

12

“WOULD YOU LIKE TO WALK FOR A while before we start back?”

Julie agreed to Rey’s suggestion almost automatically. She was so disturbed that it made no real difference what she did, so long as she was away from Allen and the others.

It was difficult to accept, after all these years, how remote she felt from Allen. It was as if she were seeing him with different eyes. He had many fine qualities, she knew; he could be, and usually was, a caring human being. He was an inveterate supporter of museums and art galleries, the symphony, opera, and theater. He enjoyed improvisational theater and brickwall-comedy places, fine old churches, flower shows, and rare coin displays. He was well-read, articulate, and could be a relaxed and comfortable companion. She knew all these things, and yet it seemed she hardly knew Allen at all.

How was it possible that she had lived with a man, cooked for him, shared Sunday-morning newspaper comics with him, bought his underwear, and had his favorite Old English sheepdog put to sleep when the time came, and still not recognize the limitations of his personality? How had it happened that she understood him so little, or he her? What had happened to her that she could sit at the same table with him, look at his face that should be so familiar, and feel as if he were a stranger? Feel, moreover, that he was someone she really didn’t care to know.

It wasn’t simply that she was angry with Allen for trying to supplant her as director of the picture, or hurt because it seemed that money was more important to him than her feelings and needs. It was as if the feelings she had once had for him had seeped away without her knowing it, disappearing so slowly that she hadn’t known they were going until suddenly they were gone.

She couldn’t remember the last time they had made love.

Surely it must have been the night before she had left to come to Louisiana, but she could not recall where or what time or how. It might just as easily have been a month before, or longer. When she tried to bring the details into focus, her mind was filled with images of the man who strolled beside her, of Rey with moonlight on water reflected in his eyes, of the thudding of his heart mingling with the thunder of her own, of soaring flight and gentle landings.

She glanced at Rey, a quick, almost furtive look. The width of his shoulders, the memory of them beneath her hands, sent a small shiver along her spine. Aware of her slightest movement as always, he turned his head to smile down at her, then reached to catch her hand as they neared a cross street where traffic rolled in a steady stream.

As she shivered again he asked, “Cold?”

“No, not really.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about being honored by this women’s film festival?”

“Allen just gave me the news this morning,” she answered.

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