Sandra Marton - Marriage On The Edge

“I can’t, I’m telling you! I’ve got—I have things to take care of. Important things.”

“It’s just a weekend,” Slade said.

“Well, I don’t have a weekend to spare.”

“Listen here, brother,” Travis snapped. “If I can manage the time and Slade can manage the time—”

“Good,” Gage snarled. “Great. I’m proud of the two of you. But I’m busy. Too busy for this kind of nonsense. I have some sensitive things going on here. You guys understand that, or do I have to put it on a billboard?”

He heard the harshness, the anger, of his own words echoing around him. His brothers were silent and he shut his eyes and put his fist to his forehead. He could almost see the looks they’d be sending each other if they were in the same room.

He took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice near a whisper. “But I can’t be there. I just can’t.”

“Sure,” Travis said after a minute.

“Understood,” Slade said a beat later. “Well…”

There was silence, then the sound of a throat being cleared. “Well,” three voices said at one time, and then there were hurried goodbyes, good wishes…

The phone went dead. Gage sat staring at it, waiting—and smiled a little when it rang.

“Listen,” Travis said without bothering to say hello. “If there’s a problem on your end…”

“I’m okay.”

“Yeah, sure you are, but if there should be a problem, whatever—”

“I’ll call you,” Gage said quietly.

“Yeah,” Travis said, cleared his throat, and hung up. The phone rang again, almost immediately.

“Gage?”

Gage sighed. “Yes, Slade.”

“Look, if you, ah, if you need anything—”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure, but if you should need anything, somebody to talk to, whatever—”

“I’ll call you,” Gage said softly.

“Right.” Slade cleared his throat and hung up.

Slowly, Gage put down the telephone. He forgot, sometimes, what it was like, having a family that loved you. Maybe Natalie had forgotten, too. He was her family, after all, just as she was his. Maybe all she needed was for him to sit her down, tell her how he loved her…

The phone rang again. Gage rolled his eyes and picked it up.

“Listen, you guys, I swear to you, I’m perfectly fine. There’s not a thing troubling me. You got that? My life is perfect. I’m just too busy to take time out for a weekend of sentimental claptrap.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Natalie said. “I know all about how busy you are, Gage.”

“Natalie?” He shot to his feet. “I didn’t realize—”

“No,” she said, her voice trembling. “No, you never did. I just hope you’re not too busy to take down this phone number.”

“What phone number? Nat, listen—”

“My phone number. I’ve left you, Gage. I took an apartment off Lincoln Drive.”

“Huh?” Gage ran his hand through his hair. “But the last thing you said this morning was—”

“I changed my mind.”

“Natalie, baby—”

“And I’ve spoken with Jim Rutherford. I think you should speak with your attorney, too.”

Gage’s eyes narrowed. “All this,” he said slowly, “in one morning?”

“All this, in one morning.”

“How long have you been planning this, Natalie?”

“I haven’t. I’ve thought about it, but—”

“Thought about leaving me? Thought about it?”

He shut his eyes, remembering the nights she’d feigned sleep, the times he’d taken her in his arms anyway and felt as if she were made of wood. Was that when she’d thought about leaving him? When she lay beside him, when she lay beneath him, in the darkness?

“Well,” he said, his voice a growl, his heart trying to break and harden at the same time, “I’ve got news for you, baby. I thought about it, too. For months. I just didn’t know how to tell you but I can see, I needn’t have worried.”

Natalie put the back of her hand to her mouth, biting hard on her knuckles so she wouldn’t give this man she’d once loved the satisfaction of hearing her weep. “If you don’t know how to swim, don’t jump into the deep end,” Liz Holcomb had pleaded after Natalie had poured out her heart over endless cups of black coffee. “Oh, Natalie, don’t do anything too quickly. Wait. Think. Give it time.”

But she had waited, for what seemed years and years. She’d waited for her husband to look up and notice that he’d forgotten who she was, that she was at least as important as his hotels, his meetings, his money.

And then she’d looked at him in the Holcombs’s garden last night and she’d realized that the only thing Gage wanted from her anymore was what she could give him in bed.

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