Who Would You Choose? by J. M. Bronston

Author:J. M. Bronston [Bronston, J. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781516103225
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2018-07-12T19:59:10+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

She didn’t sleep well that night. How could she? She’d taken Sam’s kiss to bed with her and it remained with her, for better and for worse, through the hours till dawn brightened the curtains at the window. The “better” part felt like a gift, a sweet present wrapped up in tissue and ribbons and scented with the rarest of perfumes. That’s the part that should have lulled her into sweet dreams.

But the “worse” was the wagging finger of accusation, scolding her for cheating on Jerry.

But it’s not cheating she argued back at her conscience. Jerry and I aren’t exclusive. We never agreed to be exclusive. Not that there’s ever been anyone else. But still—

And for goodness’ sake, it was just a kiss!

Oh, but what a kiss that had been. Magical. Mystical. Mysterious. All that, and more. She had to admit to what her conscience already knew: if Sam had chosen to stay, she’d not have been able—no, would not have wanted to stop him.

Well, her conscience put it to her, isn’t that the same as cheating? Even if you didn’t do the actual deed?

And so she struggled, back and forth all night, only occasionally dozing off fitfully and waking again from confused dreams and uneasy rest. Altogether, she slept hardly a full hour through the night.

* * * *

At dawn, she gave up the effort, showered, dressed and went out into a lovely Sunday morning. She paid no attention to where her feet were taking her, hoping the early-morning quiet of the empty streets would soothe the conflict that had kept her awake through the night. But instead, the mental battle she’d created seemed to have developed an almost physical reality. She imagined Sam and Jerry walking right along with her, keeping her company, glaring across her at each other.

Stop it! she told herself. Pay attention to where you’re going, what you’re doing. This isn’t good for you. Dr. Diaz wanted you to rest, avoid stress, get yourself calmed down. At this rate, you’ll be a nervous wreck by the time you have to get back to work.

But still, her imaginary companions demanded her attention. Without realizing it, she was retracing her path from the day before, and wherever she went, she kept up a silent conversation with the two men: with Jerry, she was pointing out the sights, as though she was now an experienced guide and he was a tourist—and with Sam, she unconsciously rewound the tape of the day, re-experiencing his voice, his touch, and the feel of his presence. At Marble Arch, for Jerry’s benefit, she described the crowd and their near-riot, the arrival of the police, the reporters and news trucks, and the gaping onlookers. But to Sam, she replayed her panic, the feel of his hand on her arm when he pulled her away, cleared a space for her, made her safe. To him she expressed again her gratitude, and her astonishment at the fact that he was there at all, but to Jerry, she said only that it was a pretty hairy scene.

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