Cherish Me

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Cherish Me Page 12

by Farrah Rochon


  “When would you have followed up? You just pointed out how you don’t have a minute for yourself. You do so damn much and I don’t know the half of it. I just know it all gets done.”

  Now he was making excuses for her.

  She had no excuse. And she had no reason to complain. Absolutely none. How could she complain about having to make muffins once a quarter for her kid’s school when Harrison sometimes spent weeks working eighteen-hour days?

  Willow closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. This was not how she’d pictured things going at their first meal in Italy.

  “Harrison—”

  “We can look into getting someone to help out at the house again,” he offered.

  And here came another deluge of guilt.

  He’d suggested hiring someone to clean the house more than once over the years, but Willow had always shot down the idea. Not because she couldn’t use the help, but because her pride wouldn’t let her accept any.

  Once her own mother had finally gotten on her feet, she’d been able to raise three children while working a full-time job, going to school at night, and keeping a clean house. What would it say about her if Willow had to hire someone to clean her house when being a stay-at-home mother was her only job?

  It didn’t matter that her kids were into way more than she and her sisters had been into back when they were growing up. A trip to the library once a week was the extent of the Carter girls’ extracurricular activities, while Lily and Athens had scouts, drama club, karate, drill team, study groups and a load of other interests that occupied the family’s afternoons and weekends.

  And Willow had to admit that she and her sisters had been required to do more around the house than she required of her children. She was the one who’d decided to do it all on her own, despite Harrison’s grumbles about the kids needing more responsibilities. Her kids were already under a mountain of pressure. Willow didn’t want to add even more to their plates.

  Twenty-five years ago, she wasn’t competing with kids who fluently spoke four languages, spent summers building homes in Haiti, or were accomplished pianists and cellists. If Lily and Athens wanted to stand out on their college applications, being a black belt in karate and having a hundred community service hours would stand out much better than knowing how to fold a fitted sheet.

  And that’s why she couldn’t entertain those long-ago ambitions to become the black, female equivalent of Bill Nye the Science Guy. Yes, she’d love to teach kids to enjoy science, but she couldn’t do it all. No one could. She’d sacrificed her dreams in order to make sure her kids could follow theirs.

  “I have no problem taking care of the house,” Willow said. “That’s my job.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be,” Harrison said. He hesitated for a moment before he added, “Have you ever thought that maybe…maybe this is why you’re unhappy?”

  He didn’t know it, but he’d hit the nail on the head.

  “I just need you to be happy, Willow,” he continued.

  The desperation in his voice tore into her soul. “Harrison, it isn’t your job to make me happy.”

  “Like hell it isn’t.” His fiercely whispered words sliced through the air. “What good are all those hours I’m putting in at the office if we’re not happy?” He impaled her with a look so full of hurt and anguish Willow felt it clear to the bone. “And if you’re not happy, I’m not happy. You are my happiness, Willow. Without you, there just isn’t any.”

  She couldn’t speak. What words could she possibly say?

  “I just want to know what I can do to bring us back to the way we used to be,” Harrison pleaded.

  “I do too,” she managed to utter past the lump in her throat. She closed her eyes. She couldn’t face these emotions, not right now.

  “I can’t do this right now, Harrison.”

  “Willow—”

  “I know,” she said, cutting him off before he could say anything else. But he wouldn’t back down.

  “We can’t keep putting off this conversation.”

  “I know.” She opened her eyes, and with a soft plea in her voice, repeated, “I know. But this conversation deserves more than either of us can give it right now. We’re dead on our feet. We can’t talk about this when jet lag is creeping up on us.

  “We are going to talk. Just not…not right now. Please, Harrison. Can we have these first couple of days to just enjoy ourselves? I want to enjoy this. Enjoy you! These last few hours have been so amazing. To think that this is just the start to our week makes me happier than I can even describe. I don’t want this dark cloud hanging over our heads the entire time.” She pleaded with him. “I promise we will talk.”

  His reluctance was palpable, but he didn’t push her to continue. Willow’s shoulders practically wilted with relief.

  They finished up their meal in near silence, with Harrison occasionally commenting on passersby. Willow declined dessert—something she’d vowed she would not do while here in Italy—because fatigue from all those hours in the air had finally caught up with her.

  As they followed the GPS’s directions back to their hotel, Willow linked her arm in the curve of Harrison’s and leaned her head against his upper arm. They’d only tiptoed around the edges of the conversation they needed to have, yet the little they’d discussed had been enough to drain her.

  You’re stalling.

  No, she wasn’t. She knew what she was up against. She knew they would have to delve much deeper if they were going to save their marriage. She just didn’t have it in her right now.

  What she wouldn’t give to click her heels three times and return to the relationship she’d shared with Harrison for the nearly two decades they’d been together.

  You’re in Rome, not Oz.

  Repairing her marriage wouldn’t be that easy. Nothing worth fighting for ever was.

  By the time they arrived back at the hotel, Willow was dead on her feet. But her exhaustion took a back seat to anxiety the moment she opened her suitcase and encountered the satin and lace nightgowns Jade had bullied her into buying. Why had she listened to her sister? Why hadn’t she anticipated the reality that now lay before her, the fact that she and her husband were about to share a bed for the first time in over two months?

  Goodness, two months!

  It had started back when Athens caught a stomach bug that had been making its way around his school. Willow spent the night in his room, and even though it had turned out to be only a twenty-four hour virus, she’d felt uneasy leaving Athens alone the following night. Not wanting to disturb Harrison the day before his first big meeting with the Delmonicos, she’d slept in the guest room upstairs so that she could check in on Athens throughout the night.

  Then the next night. Then the next. And the next.

  A few weeks later, she and Harrison had made the decision to take a break and he’d moved out.

  But they were together now. And they were about to slide underneath the covers and share this big, comfortable bed.

  Would he expect them to do more than just sleep? Why wouldn’t he? A healthy sex life had been one of the most enjoyable elements of their relationship. Reaching over in the middle of the night and climbing on top of her husband was as normal as breathing.

  But there was nothing normal about the atmosphere between them these days. And engaging in any kind of physical intimacy tonight would be nothing more than putting a temporary Band-Aid on the various scars currently marring their marriage.

  The bathroom door opened, and Harrison walked out wearing forest green pajama pants and nothing else.

  Then again, it had been a long time since she’d had sex, and her body could use some.

  His bare chest beckoned, enticing her with all that smooth skin and those firm muscles that fit exquisitely underneath her cheek. He didn’t have the chiseled, washboard abs he’d had in his twenties, but that had never been her definition of perfection. The perfect male body was the one standing before her. She was married to
one of the sexiest men she’d ever encountered. Hands down.

  “The bathroom is yours,” he said, knocking her out of her lust-filled daze.

  “Oh.” Willow shook her head. “Thank—thank you.”

  Even though she’d showered before they left, Willow needed another after being out all afternoon. She didn’t want to take too long, though. Given how tired she was, she was afraid she’d fall asleep under the spray. When she exited the bathroom ten minutes later, she found Harrison standing at the window, looking out over the piazza below.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” Willow said, coming up behind him. She fought the urge to wrap her arms around his middle and rest her cheek against his bare back.

  He looked over at her and grinned. “I have to admit, I didn’t do half bad with the location.”

  He turned and gestured with his chin to the seating area. A bottle of red wine and a slim, rectangular tray of fresh fruit covered in plastic wrap sat on the small round table. “That arrived while you were in the shower. Maybe we can have some dessert after all.”

  The sight of the fruit and wine instantly conjured memories of their fifteenth wedding anniversary. Harrison surprised her by sending the kids to his parents’ for the night and turning their house into a den of seduction. He’d gone all out, having food from her favorite restaurant delivered, followed by a couple’s bath and a night of nearly continuous lovemaking. The next morning, he’d greeted her with breakfast in bed, which included fruit that made it to places that caused Willow to blush even now.

  She wondered if he’d had that night in mind when he ordered these from room service.

  “It’s courtesy of the management,” he said, sticking a pin in the tantalizing thought bubble her imagination had concocted.

  “Oh,” she said. “Well, that was nice of them.”

  Her eyes darted to the bed, then back to the fruit.

  “You’re ready for bed, aren’t you?” Harrison asked. He slipped the tray into the small refrigerator Willow hadn’t even realized was hidden behind a panel on the dresser. “This should keep until tomorrow.”

  Then he rounded the other side of the bed—his side of the bed. He got in and pulled up the covers, tucking them underneath his arms and turning onto his side.

  Willow just stood there like a tree stump.

  After a few moments, Harrison looked over his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

  “Uh, nothing.” She shook her head to clear it. “Nothing. I’m fine. I’m good.”

  But she wasn’t good.

  Willow wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t for her husband of seventeen years to simply go to sleep after getting in bed with her for the first time in two months. Maybe it was the romance of the city, or the way he’d held her close on the tour bus and their walk back to the hotel, or the emotion she’d witnessed in his eyes as he ardently proclaimed his desire to make her happy. Whatever it was, it had set up an expectation of…well…something to happen tonight.

  Willow struggled to suppress her confusion as she climbed in next to him. She turned out the light on the gooseneck lamp above her side of the bed, plunging the room into darkness.

  She drew the duvet over her shoulders, then pushed it down a minute later. She twisted onto her right side, then onto her left. No matter how hard she tried, she could not get comfortable.

  “Willow, what’s wrong?” Harrison asked.

  “Nothing,” she quickly said.

  Liar. There was definitely something wrong. And she knew exactly what it was.

  She was horny for her own damn husband!

  All this time she’d been trying to figure out how to gently let Harrison down when he undoubtedly tried something tonight, yet she was the one who had to resist climbing over to his side of the bed and trailing her lips along all that smooth, bare skin.

  A groan escaped her throat.

  “Willow?” Harrison repeated.

  “Don’t mind me,” she said.

  I’ll just be over here wondering how I’m supposed to sleep in a bed with you all night and have that be the only thing we do.

  Chapter Seven

  Willow woke up with one leg wrapped around Harrison’s solid thigh, the top half of her body draped over his. His large hand possessively palmed her ass, while a thick, telltale bulge pulsed deliciously against her inner thigh. The temptation to slip her hand inside his waistband and wrap her fingers around his hardening length was almost too strong to fight.

  But she fought it. She’d come to the realization overnight that it was better if she and Harrison didn’t become intimate again without at least addressing some of their issues, and she didn’t want to send any mixed signals that could be misconstrued. An early morning hand job definitely fell into the mixed signals category.

  So instead of giving in to the urge to make all kinds of wicked love to her husband, she carefully levered herself off him and climbed out of the bed. As she stared down at Harrison sprawled across the rumpled linens, Willow questioned her good judgment. What sane woman would walk away from all the pleasure that strong, solid body would provide? All she had to do was ask and Harrison would be hers for the taking.

  Why not do it? What was the harm in pretending, just for this week, that everything between them was normal?

  “You know why,” she whispered.

  With a sigh, she left him in bed and went into the bathroom to get ready. When she walked out ten minutes later, she found Harrison standing over a map of the city he’d spread across the foot of the bed.

  “Want to hear today’s game plan?” he asked.

  As he gave her a rundown of his hour-by-hour itinerary, Willow suppressed her annoyance as best she could. She’d expected this. She knew her husband well enough to know he’d planned this vacation down to the very breaths they would take.

  What she wouldn’t give to see him act impulsively just once! To say to hell with schedules and appointments and minute-by-minute itineraries. But he’d hesitated at visiting the Coliseum yesterday because it wasn’t part of his carefully laid plans, even though they were right there. Could she truly expect him to throw caution to the wind and be spontaneous?

  “How’s all that sound?” Harrison asked, excitement dancing in his eyes.

  “It sounds like a lot,” Willow said. “But we’ve got a lot to see,” she quickly added. She didn’t want him to think she didn’t appreciate the work he’d put in to making this trip special.

  The smile that once lit up her entire world broke out across his face. He nodded toward the bathroom. “Give me just a few minutes in there and we’ll get started.”

  A half-hour later, Willow was ready to take back every unflattering thought she’d had about Harrison’s meticulous planning. They seemed to be one step ahead of the crowds at every tourist site they visited. When they entered the Pantheon, the temple was practically empty. As she stood underneath the opening in the ancient structure’s magnificent dome, Willow clutched her fists tight and fought the urge to scream with glee. She was positively giddy as the sun shone down on her head.

  “I can’t believe I’m actually here,” she whispered to Harrison.

  “I can’t believe they built this thing almost two thousand years ago. We have to come back here with the kids one day. Athens would be blown away to see something like this still standing.”

  She whipped around. “Come back? Have you forgotten about that long flight you’d have to take?”

  “I’m not saying we come back next week. I’ll need some recovery time. But yeah, I’m willing to take that flight again so the kids can see this.”

  Willow grinned. “You’re just determined to live up to that #1 Dad T-shirt Lily gave you, aren’t you?”

  “Damn right.”

  They left the Pantheon and headed east, walking past several galleries, yet another basilica, and numerous restaurants. Willow picked up the pace when she heard a faint rumbling sound that gradually grew louder the further they walked. They turned the
corner and she gasped.

  “Oh, my God.” She stood stock-still for a second before turning to Harrison. “Do you know what this is?”

  He held up the map he’d taken from the hotel’s front desk, but Willow could tell he wasn’t looking at it. The smile on his face stretched from ear to ear. “According to this it’s called Trevi Fountain.” He looked up at her. “Is it supposed to be famous or something?”

  Willow burst out laughing as she grabbed him by the arm and tugged him toward the guardrail. They snapped a couple of selfies for the kids and then accepted an offer from a fellow tourist to take their photo. A heady sensation enveloped her as they posed for the camera, Harrison’s arm wrapped around her middle, his chin tucked against her neck. She didn’t have to look at the picture to know that this one was frameable. She already had the perfect spot on the mantle for it.

  “Not bad,” Harrison said, holding the phone up to her. The happy couple staring back at her on the phone’s sleek screen filled Willow with a sense of hope that had been missing from her life this past year. For the first time in a long time, her smile wasn’t fake. That was true happiness in her eyes.

  They did the customary coin toss over their shoulders and into the fountain, but when Harrison started to walk away, she stayed him, grabbing his wrist.

  “Not yet,” Willow said. “Can I have just a few minutes to soak this all in?”

  His eyes softened with his gentle smile. “Of course,” he said. “Take all the time you want.”

  She squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

  Willow focused her attention on the iconic fountain, absorbing the momentousness of the moment, allowing it to seep into her soul. How many times had she dreamed of this? To be standing here right now, hearing the water rushing over the polished travertine and marble. It was unlike anything the little eight-year-old who’d been obsessed with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck ever dreamed she would experience.

 

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