Yours Seductively

Chapter 11.3 (Part 1)

   Tyler was relived when the children we're finally tucked into bed and sleeping Thursday night. Any had resisted bedtime a little more than usual, which had kept Tom awake, but they'd finally dropped off. Tyler retreaded to the living room, turning in the evening news at a lie volume. He thought about pouring himself a drink, but he resisted. It had been almost a week since he'd had a drink—he'd decided he was getting a bit too accustomed to those bourbons-in-the-dark.

   He never glanced at the telephone, but he was very aware of it sitting nearby in what seemed oddly like silent reproach. His answering machine was on, not that he had returned any calls lately. He hadn't even responded to the two messages Jane had left him since he'd seen her at the ice-cream parlor Tuesday.

   He j we he should talk to her. It was both cowardly and rude to continue to avoid her this way, especially since she was probably expecting to see him tomorrow night, as they had for the past five Friday evenings. He simply hadn't been able to decide what to say to her.

   He still wanted her so badly he ached. So badly he felt as if his own heart was being squeezed in his chest. He didn't like to admit that it was fear keeping him away from her—but he knew that it was.

   When the phone rang, he grimaced. He had no doubt who was calling. He didn't move, but muted the TV so he could hear her message.

   Apparently, Jane had run out of patience. "Pick up the phone, Ty, or I'm coming over there right now to see if you're dead in the bathtub."

   She would, too. After only a momentary hesitation, he sighed and lifted the receiver, telling himself to stop being a damn coward. "I'm not dead."

   "Well, that's a relief." She sounded satisfied that she'd finally reached him.

   "I, Uh, just got the kids in bed. Amy was wound up this evening."

   "Are the children all right?"

   "Yes, they're fine."

   "I heard from the usual sources that your father has been ill. In fact, some people seem to think he had a heart attack yesterday morning. I was shocked to hear it, of course—although the person who told me assumed I had already heard." Her voice was as brittle as glass, and he knew she was hurt that he hadn't been the one to tell her.

   "It wasn't a heart attack," he clarified quickly. "He has some chest pains and we took him to the hospital, but he was told it was just an 'episode,' whatever that means. He'd bring out in a restricted diet and an exercise program, and he's going to be closely monitored for the next few months, but he seems to be feeling pretty well today."

   "And that happened yesterday morning?"

   "Yes. We were at the office." Tyler still hadn't fully recovered from the terror.

   "And during all the hours that had passed since, you never had a chance to cal and let me k is what had happened?"

   There had been times he could have called her, of course. Times he'd wanted to call her. Times when he had needed to hear her voice, to feel the reassuring touch of her hand. But he'd resisted, for reasons he couldn't explain to her now, because he didn't quite understand, himself. It had something to do with his concern about becoming too dependent on her. Needing her too much—and the. Not being able to hold on to her. Or discovering that, like Stephanie, she wasn't what she seemed to be.

   He had vowed that he wouldn't get into that situation again. With anyone.