Page 7 of Claiming His Wife

“Busted! We’re just worried about you.”

I pull Jen into a hug. “I know you are, but I’m okay.” Jen makes a noise that lets me know she isn’t buying my little white lie. “Okay, maybe I’m not okay, yet, but I will be. Now go home before Gizmo sets the place on fire.”

Jen leaves without any more protest, and I heave a sigh of relief at being alone. After a quick trip to the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash away the day’s makeup I pull on one of the shirts I stole from Scott when I packed my bags.

I know, I know. I left Scott, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love him. My heart aches knowing that he’s suffering. Even so, I can’t go back to the way things were. It almost broke me. The separation hurts, but being with him, seeing him every day and not being able to actuallybewith him is worse.

I find myself sitting cross-legged in the middle of my bed staring down at my phone like it’s a snake about to strike. I jump when it buzzes with another text. It’s funny how a week ago I would’ve given anything to have Scott’s attention, and now that it seems like I have his undivided attention, I don’t want it.

No, that’s not right. The problem isn’t that I don’t want it, it’s that I do want it.

Too much.

I take a steadying breath and decide it’s time to face the music. I open the thread of texts from Scott there are thirty-one unread messages.

Stubborn, persistent man, indeed.

I scroll to the first message and start reading:

Mal, I know I fucked up. I won’t give up on us.

I love you.

Tell Jen not to murder me in my sleep.

I laugh at that even though it’s the last thing I want to do. Scott was always able to sense when I needed to laugh and wasn’t above embarrassing himself to make it happen. Even now, when he’s upset, he’s trying to cheer me up. There is no stopping the tears this time.

I keep reading:

Good night, baby.

Good morning. Hope you slept well.

Mal, please answer the phone. I just want to talk.

I close my eyes against the pain because I want that too.

I called the office. Bill wouldn’t even put me through to voicemail.

No, he wouldn’t. My friends are a loyal bunch for sure. They’ve seen what the last eighteen months have done to me, and they will do anything to protect me from more heartache.

I just want to know if you’re okay.

No, I’m really not.

The messages continue like that. Scott texts me good morning and good night. Tells me he loves me and misses me mixed in with pleas for me to call him. By the time I’m done reading the messages I’m crying so hard I feel like I can’t breathe and I’m questioning why I’m putting us through this.

Am I even doing the right thing? The night of our anniversary, it felt like the right thing. Now I have no idea. And that doubt is the reason why when my phone rings, I answer it.

Chapter Four

Scott

If the definitionof insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results, maybe I’m insane. I don’t fucking care though. If getting Mallory back costs me my sanity, so be it. I’d rather have her in my arms than have it anyway.

Which is why I call her again even though she hasn’t picked up any of my calls since she left. The phone barely finishes the first ring when the line connects. I assume she’s sending me to voicemail again and I shamelessly wait to hear her happy voice telling me she probably lost her phone and to leave a message, so I’m shocked when I’m greeted with silence.

“Mallory?”