Welcome! This will be my last post from "Two of Hearts." It's a shocker. I apologize. But it's not a romance, it's women's fiction. I hope you enjoy it. Next week, I'll be posting from my second-chance romance in progress. As always, scroll down to get back to Tuesday Tales and the wonderful stories there. Thanks for coming.
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Terry’s heartbeat quickened as he packed up his
work for the day. He put a blank check on Jen’s account in an envelope and slid
it into his breast pocket. He also had a summary of the changes he had made to
her portfolio. He put it in a manila envelope, straightened his tie, popped a
breath mint and headed for the elevator.
“Taking home work?” Paul asked.
“You know me. Nose to the grindstone,” Terry said
with a smile.
Walking from the subway, his step lightened. His
libido spiked as he opened the door and harnessed Queenie. He tucked a can of
her food into a bag with two bottles of fine wine, and the envelope and made
tracks to the street.
“Yeah, another date with Willie tonight, girl. How
about that?” He chuckled. He was double-dating with his dog. The idea tickled
him so much, he whipped out his phone to text Clare, but stopped. Uh, no, not
telling Clare. His good mood crashed. A married man going on a date. What the
hell was he doing?
He took the pug around the block. His steps slowed
as his mind raced. Jen was a client. Could he continue to fool himself? He was
having an affair, something he’d sworn, in the wedding ceremony and to himself,
in private, that he would never do. But so was Clare. He didn’t know for sure
that she was continuing with whoever she’d spent that night with, but why ask
for six weeks’ hiatus if she wasn’t? He’d not admitted that to himself before,
because the idea would make him wild. However, the circumstances had changed.
Did one affair justify another? He’d never thought
so before. Don’t fight fire with fire. But wasn’t that exactly what he was
doing? He shook his head. His time with Jen, he refused to label it “an
affair”, had nothing to do with Clare’s behavior. He needed Jen. Her company
gave him solace, got him through the dark days and darker nights without filing
for divorce or, at the very least, flying to Los Angeles for a showdown with
Clare. Time with Jen kept him sane –for what it was worth. And he needed to be
level-headed, if he didn’t want his life to explode and disappear into the
mist.
Terry had weighed the options. Every time he’d
considered divorce, his stomach had protested, clenching in the most painful
way. He’d never get over Clare. She had been the perfect wife, half friend and
half lover. He’d trusted her but look what happened. He refused to believe
Clare had gone out to California seeking sexual adventure. He’d been convinced
that her interest in learning to write for movies was genuine. Back to that old
truth –Clare had never been a good liar.
Something had happened. He’d be damned if he’d
give up on them until he found out the whole story. Obviously, there were
things he didn’t know. He prayed the meeting in Chicago would clear up the
mystery –and he’d know what to do. He sighed. He couldn’t stop Clare from
leaving him, but he’d never leave her, never, unless she threatened him with a
gun or a knife.
Queenie tugged Terry toward Jen’s house. Reluctant
to be tempted again, Terry walked slowly. But what good would turning around
do? If he spent time alone in his apartment, resentment toward Clare would
grow. When he’d been on his own for long periods of time, his anger festered,
feeding on itself. He’d obsess about her and his psychic wounds, the damage to
his heart from her infidelity. Playing the self-righteous, wronged victim would
never suit him. After a moment’s pause, he continued to Jen’s
place. The lesser of two evils, having affection that made him feel almost
close to whole again –warmth and a substitute for love definitely trumped wallowing
at his own private pity party.
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