Fatal Impulse: A Widow's Web Novel

by Lori L. Robinett

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, there.”

  Her heart chilled at the sound of his voice, just like the icy coldness of the bowl cupped in her left hand. Retorts raced through her brain, but none of them traveled along the right pathways to her mouth.

  “Hey, there, yourself.” Brilliant.

  His voice was low, seductive. “Sounds like it’s going to be a beautiful weekend. Want to go for a boat ride, take some photos of the lighthouse? We can take my boat out.”

  “Don’t you have plans with your wife?” For a moment, she wondered if she’d really said it out loud.

  “She and I don’t do anything togeth-“

  She cut him off, “Really? You don’t eat lunch together?”

  His breath caught. Her thumb hovered over the red end button, but she couldn’t bring herself to push it. Weakness made her angry, and she wasn’t sure who was weaker – her, for allowing herself to fall for a married man, or him, a lying asshole who cheated on his wife.

  The low seductive quality in his voice disappeared, replaced by a clipped tone reminiscent of her cousin’s from Boston. “Yes, we did have lunch together. I just can’t – I haven’t-“

  “What?” Her temper flared. She’d been ready to forgive him for anything, ready to give her heart to him. She broke in, unable and unwilling to hide her irritation. “You don’t have the guts to tell her it’s over?”

  He continued, his voice barely more than a whisper. “It’s complicated, and I, well, I think I’m falling for you.”

  She bit her lip and closed her eyes, wanting him to need her so badly, and hating herself for that. Since Chad died … hell, since long before Chad died … she had been so lonely. And here was a wonderful man, good-looking, funny … would it be so bad to see what happened? To be a friend to him? To be more?

  “Are you still there?” he asked.

  “Yes.” Her blood pounded in her ears.

  “Look, I hate doing this over the phone, where I can’t see your face. Can I come over?”

  “I don’t know. Probably not a good idea.” She sat the bowl of ice cream on the coffee table and hugged her knees to her chest.

  “Just to talk. Promise. Nothing more. Just for a little while?” He was pleading. He needed her. It felt so good to be needed.

  She gave in, but promised herself she wouldn’t change anything, wouldn’t do anything, and sure as hell wasn’t going to primp for him. She punched the end button and laid the phone on the arm of the couch, then took a big bite of rapidly softening ice cream. The creamy coldness soothed her hurt feelings.

  20

  Within fifteen minutes, her doorbell rang. Though her muscles tensed with the urge to run to the door, she took her time washing and drying her hands after she rinsed her ice cream bowl, then pumped a little dab of lotion into the palm of her hand and massaged it in as she forced herself to walk to the front door.

  He stood on the front porch, like a lost puppy dog with droopy eyes and down turned lips. He held up a grocery bag. “I come bearing ice cream.”

  “I just had some.” She pushed the door open and motioned him in.

  “Mind if I stick it in the freezer?”

  She led him to the bright, cheery kitchen, then opened the freezer door of her stainless steel refrigerator. He stuck the carton in and volunteered, “Nothing comforts like ice cream, right?”

  Without a word, she led the way to the family room. He followed, silent. She gestured to the couch, and then settled into her favorite overstuffed chair. He was nervous, and she did not intend to make it easy for him.

  The inane chatter from the television filled the room. His eyes darted around, taking inventory of their surroundings. Finally, he made eye contact and the sadness in their blue depths touched her.

  The tales of his wife reminded Andi of her own frustrations with Chad. Verbal abuse, how she used sex as a control, how she handled their financial affairs. One story sounded painfully familiar. Her sympathies were with him as he related the story.

  “For instance,” he began, “We went to the big charity dinner in the spring, you know the big whing-ding out at Wild Flower Stables? She’s on the Board of Directors for the Denim & Diamonds Dinner, so we went. It’s a western event, so I wore my cowboy boots and Stetson hat. Well, she didn’t tell me until we got there that it was a catered dinner, coat and tie. She laughed at me the whole evening, called me Tex. She flirted with all the men. I caught her chatting with our neighbor, Patrick Evans.”

  That last bit struck a nerve. “There’s nothing wrong with your wife talking to another man.”

  He shook his head and said, “No. No, that’s not what I mean. She leaned in towards him, gave him a great view of her cleavage. When I stepped up to join them, she rolled her eyes and patted me on the arm like I was some doddering old fool that didn’t know what was going on. She told Patrick I’m fifteen years older than her, and can’t keep up with her. Then she laughed and said, ‘I’m referring to tennis, of course.’ It hurt, and she didn’t care. She never cares.”

  Andi’s eyes narrowed. “So why are you still with her?”

  He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “It’s complicated. A long story, you know?”

  She settled back in her chair. “I’ve got time.”

  He cupped his hand to the back of his neck and rubbed, “I know money isn’t everything, but I’ve fought hard for us to get to the point where I can take time off, enjoy myself. She would fight me tooth and nail, and make my life a living hell if I asked for a divorce.”

  Thoughts of her own marriage bubbled up, those times she’d wondered if divorce was an option. It felt unrealistic in her situation. Chad kept her on a short leash, and he controlled everything from the household budget to the groceries in the cabinets. Even paying for an attorney would be difficult. Paul didn’t have that problem, though. She asked, “Do you really think it’d be that bad?”

  “Yes.” He nodded slowly, then lifted his eyes to meet hers. “She’s a mean, vindictive person.”

  She couldn’t imagine any man not standing up to his wife. Couldn’t imagine those roles being reversed. It made no sense. She scoffed, “Oh, come on, she can’t be that bad. You file for divorce, and let the attorneys work it out.”

  “She’d ruin me,” he snorted. “She had a salesman at a Best Buy in Portland fired when he sold her a modem that didn’t work. She flat out installed it wrong – her mistake, not his - but she insisted that he gave her bad advice and caused her computer to crash. She called a sorority sister of hers at the corporate office and had him fired. Not his fault. And he lost his job.”

  She nodded her understanding. So, they had bad marriages in common. It made her think twice about why she didn’t file for divorce. Though her marriage was horrible, divorce wasn’t an option. Her parents raised her to believe that marriage is “‘til death do you part.” Was that reason enough to stay?

  She sighed and acknowledged, “She sounds awful. So why not file for divorce?”

  “I’d lose everything. My house. My retirement. Plus I’d have to pay alimony.” He shifted on the couch so he was facing her. “I don’t know how to put into words what I’m feeling, and I know it’s wrong. But what it boils down to is that if I stay married to her, I live my life. I picnic at Jordan Pond, I take trips, I do my own thing. We sleep in separate rooms and lead separate lives. I’m not ready to rock the boat yet.”

  Andi swallowed the lump rising in her throat. She knew exactly what he was talking about. Chad and she had gone through that, too, even down to sleeping in separate rooms for a while. She’d convinced herself life wouldn’t be much different, married or not, and it really wasn’t – she still did
all the cooking, cleaning, shopping. But it was so much easier without him around. And she had to admit, if she was honest with herself, the fact that Chad was dead and not an ex-husband that could – no, would – make her life hell, made her life now much easier.

  Paul slid off the couch and leaned forward, so he was kneeling, and put his hands on her knees. His piercing blue eyes were beautiful, though sincere and pained. Her own difficulties and struggles reflected in their depths. She could see into his soul at that moment, and knew they were meant to be.

  He smiled and fine lines crinkled his tanned face. “I know this is happening quickly, but I think we could turn into something special.”

  She put her hands on his. God help her, she was falling in love with a married man. What the hell was she doing? Was she so desperate to be loved? She’d been unhappy for so long, wasted so much of her life … was it possible to make up for lost time?

  “Please be patient with me,” he whispered. Even the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth appealed to her. His skin was that of a man who spent his life outdoors, and a tear slid down his cheek, over his tanned skin and along a few light scars on his left cheek. she reached forward and traced the scars with her index finger, and it hit her. Long, manicured nails left those marks.

  “You’ve got to leave her,” she whispered, her voice catching in her throat.

  “I know.” He bent his head forward and rested his forehead on her knee. She stroked his thick, dark hair, and made soothing sounds. After a moment, he looked up at her. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

  There was no doubt in her mind that she was falling, too, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the gold band encrusted with diamonds on his left ring finger. Then she glanced at the wedding set she still wore on her left ring finger out of nothing but simple habit. She could draw upon her strength to create a fresh start and plan her future. Maybe one day Paul would wear a ring like that for her and she would have a ring that really meant something on her own finger.

  But it had to be done right. She sat up straight and lifted her chin.

  He whispered, “You know yourself how difficult it is. I suspect you know exactly what I mean.”

  “You need to go,” she said, more abruptly than she intended. “Go back to your wife. And when you are able to leave her, come and find me.”

  “Tell me, have you gone through Chad’s things, or are his things still here?” He kept his hands on her knees and rose so that his face was inches from hers. “It’s not easy to get rid of someone who is a part of your life, who has been a part of your life for so long.”

  Her breath caught at the sudden change of subject. He had her, and he knew it. She shook her head, and he pressed on. “Have you gone through his closet, his drawers? What about his desk? His papers?”

  Her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over if he said another word, and she whispered, “Not yet.”

  He stood up and said, “I’ll come over and help you. It’ll be easier to do if you’re not alone. I’ll haul the stuff to the Salvation Army for you. Promise me you’ll call when you want to get rid of his stuff?”

  She nodded, and he smiled, his lips pressed together tightly. He gave a curt nod and said, “Before I go, I need to know how you feel about me.”

  She cocked her head to one side, “My feelings for you have nothing to do with your marriage. If you want to leave her, leave her. But don’t make that decision based on me.” The strength she felt surprised her. She straightened her spine and lifted her chin proudly.

  He nodded and held out his hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. She led him towards the front door. As she put her hand on the doorknob, he grabbed her shoulders, turning her towards him. He kissed her, really kissed her, for the first time. The electricity in that kiss shot through her body, and her toes tingled and her heart skipped a beat. Her body molded to his as his body responded. It only lasted a few seconds, but it felt as if time stood still.

  He spoke, his breath warm against her ear, “We can still go exploring, right?”

  That throaty voice melted her resolve and, in spite of her conscience screaming no, she nodded.

  He jogged down the steps to his Jeep. He got in and started it up, then put it in gear. As he reversed out of the driveway, he turned and raised a hand. She waved back, then shut the door and slipped her wedding ring off. She trudged up the stairs and to her bedroom, rubbing the warm metal between her thumb and finger. She dropped the ring onto the crystal ring holder on the dresser and crawled into the king-sized bed alone.

  21

  Andi pushed through the front door of the Black Sails Diner and paused for a moment to let her eyes adjust after the harsh glare of the midday sun. She spotted Dana at a table in the back, studying a menu. The tinkle of the brass bell above the door sounded as the door swung closed behind Andi. Dana looked up and waved, a wide grin splitting her face.

  “You look like the cat that ate the canary.” Before Andi even sat down, she narrowed her eyes and smiled. “What’s up?”

  The redhead grinned and held out her hand, palm down and wiggled her fingers. There, on her ring finger, was a beautiful round solitaire.

  “Oh, my God! He proposed! You’re getting married!” Andi turned to the woman at the next table and thumped her on the arm, “Hey! My best friend just got engaged!”

  Several people in the small restaurant smiled and clapped and offered their congratulations. Pink crept up Dana’s cheeks and she shushed Andi, while she thanked the well-wishers and ducked her head in embarrassment. Andi sat down across from her and grinned. Jill Price, their waitress, sashayed over and congratulated her, too, before taking their orders.

  “You are such a goof!” Dana said, shaking her red locks in mock disgust, but the look on her face belied her thrill at the fuss being made.

  “Hey, we gotta make a big deal of this. We’ve got to go celebrate and,” Andi looked around at the cheesy pirate-themed diner filled with tourists, leaned forward and whispered, “this is not the place to celebrate. Let’s meet after work and go out.”

  She shook her head and said, “I can’t. I’m meeting Derek tonight for dinner. We’re going to tell his parents tonight.”

  Though Andi’s feelings of good will toward her friend were genuine, she felt a niggle of fear that her best friend would be caught up in her new life, with no time left for friendships. In spite of her misgivings, she gushed, “Oh, my God. I don’t believe this! So, tell me, how’d he do it?”

  Dana’s grin widened as she related the story, “We’d gone out to dinner at the Clifftop. ” A shadow crossed her face and she paused in mid-thought.

  Andi made a rolling motion with her hand and smiled. “It’s okay. Go ahead.”

  “It was wonderful, we were both drinking wine and laughing, just a perfect night. After we ate, he suggested we go for a walk. I figured he just wanted to walk before driving because we’d both had a drink with dinner. He started getting all mushy, telling me how much he loved me, and I told him I’d better drive home because I thought he’d had one too many.”

  Andi laughed – she could picture it, and could just imagine how nervous Derek had been. He was always such a clown, it would have been hard for him to do something so serious. The two of them seemed so in love. Hopefully it would last longer for them than it had for her and Chad.

  Dana continued, “He bent down and started messing around with his sock and I tugged on his arm, thinking he was being really weird, but he pulled a little blue velvet box out of his sock and told me I’d make him the happiest man in the world if I’d marry him!”

  “Oh, wow. In his sock, huh?” Andi took her friend’s hand and examined the sparkling gem. “And I’m guessing you liked the ring so you said yes?”

  She l
aughed. “Of course I said yes! I said yes before he even got the box open. He’s finally making an honest woman of me!”

  They had been living together for months, largely due to the economics of sharing one household when they were always together anyway, and Dana had confessed during one of her and Andi’s Saturday morning coffee dates that she didn’t think they’d ever get married. “Have you talked about a date? The location? Colors?”

  Dana ducked her head and pretended to examine the menu. “We’re not going to do a big church wedding since it’s a second marriage for him and I’m older than the traditional bride-“

  “Bullshit!” Andi looked up just as Jill arrived with the food and felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. She lowered her eyes and murmured, “Sorry.”

  “Shoot!” Jill set their plates down and waved her hand. “Honey, I’ve heard worse!”

  Andi pulled the tomato off her tuna salad and Dana pulled the pickles off her sandwich. They traded. Dana stuck the tomato in her sandwich and went back to wedding talk. “Let’s face it, I am older than the traditional bride, and with Mom and Dad gone, I just don’t want to do the big church wedding, so we’re thinking about going to Atlantic City.”

  “Seriously? Like an Elvis wedding or one of those little chapels?”

  Dana waved that idea off quickly. “No! Of course not! But remember the wedding pictures I showed you of that attorney that used to work in our office?”

  Her portraits were gorgeous, with the waves rolling onto the beach, the wedding party standing in sand, and a boardwalk behind them. Most of all, the pinks and oranges and reds of the sunset made the bride absolutely glow.

  Andi shook her head. “That couldn’t have been A.C.”

  She grinned. “Sure was. And we can do a package deal, so it won’t be as expensive as a big church wedding, and that way we can put our money towards that farmhouse we’ve been looking at on the cove.”