Romance: The Art of my Love: a story of betrayal, desire, love, and marriage by Altbridge Tanya

Author:Altbridge, Tanya [Altbridge, Tanya]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tanya Altbridge
Published: 2015-08-26T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18. Returning Home

After talking with Tom, eating dinner, and getting that check, I feel much better all around, and I head home to Paul. Whatever will be will be.

There are no lights on in our windows. Isn’t he at home? It’s late already, after midnight. Tom and I lost track of time talking. Maybe he’s with Rachel? The very thought makes me sick. But then I remember that Tom said Rachel is in San Francisco. Maybe Paul went there to see her? To San Francisco?

I open the door, drag my suitcase inside, and switch on the light. Paul is sitting at the kitchen table. He lifts his head and looks at me wearily.

“I thought you weren’t coming.” His face looks haggard, but he never takes his eyes off of me.

“I went to the gallery, to bring them the paintings. After that Tom and I went to dinner and we started talking. Should I have called or texted you so you wouldn’t worry?”

My question hangs there in the air.

“I thought you were with John.” When Paul speaks, his voice is flat and dull-sounding.

“Well, when I drove up and saw how dark it was in here, I thought you were with Rachel. See what they’ve done to us?” I ask, beseechingly. “How are we going to go on if we can’t stop thinking this way?”

“They didn’t do it to us. We did it to ourselves. And how we get out of this situation is all up to us, too. I told you everything was finished with Rachel and me. Whether you believe me is up to you.”

“Perfect!” I snap back at him. “Remember what I told you about John? That I’m gonna get together with him every chance I get?”

I start to cry. Something inside me has broken. I stumble to the bathroom and brush my teeth while the tears run down my face. Then, still miserable and covered in tears, I take a shower and burrow down under the covers in bed. Soon Paul joins me. He turns to me, takes me by the arm, and strokes my head, and I move closer to him, nestling into his chest. I’m still sobbing. Paul kisses my hair and keeps stroking my head. “Sweetheart, sweetheart, it’s going to be okay,” he whispers. And finally, miracle of miracles, I fall asleep.

It’s the best, deepest sleep I’ve had for many days. Now I remember what it feels like to sleep well and wake up with a clear head in the morning! Revived and refreshed, I bounce out of bed like a brand new woman. Really, nothing in the world can compare with eight hours of sound sleep.

Paul is in the kitchen, already dressed and cooking breakfast.

“Have you been up long?” I ask him.

“No, maybe half an hour. I finally managed to sleep right. Almost eight hours straight.” Paul is speaking out loud, but he sounds as if he’s talking to himself.

“Yeah, I know. That hasn’t happened to me for a while, either.”

We look at each other and we both smile.

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