Not-So-Secret

Chapter forty-four

It had been like this for days. Whenever he was near, there was a joining. Maybe it was because they couldn't speak. Was this how it was in prisons? In wars? Or was it because they had been lovers.

Still wanted to be lovers.

The elevator came. They got in. Silent, vibrating, swimming in this ocean of perception she'd never experienced before.

No, she didn't know what he'd had for breakfast, the colour of his boxers. But she knew the ache that lived low and deep inside his chest, all the way through his brain down to his feet. She know that the not touching consumed him, that he wanted her more than his next breath.

They shared this life on the inside and she knew with a certainty that if they could speak freely, hold hands, kiss, this awful strain between them would disappear.

It wasn't close to what she wanted, but it was hers and it was all she was going to get. It didn't seem to matter that he'd changed. That he's gone over to the dark side. That he wouldn't tell her anything.

At the lobby level, he let her out of the elevator first, then followed her to the limo and Kahrim, looking polished as always in his black chauffeur's garb. He helped her into the back seats and they were headed off towards the Fashion Show Mall. Two blocks before the turn off, she looked at James, sitting so quietly beside her.

He turned the same second.

Amazing.

She opened her mouth, but he gave us slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head. As if to prove her point, she realised she been about to say something indiscreet and he, knowing that, had stopped her.

Freaky.

They got to the mall and James and Kahrim made their arrangements. Then James dyed her through the entrance. Once inside, she stopped him. This time he let her speak.

"I can't go to one more store. Not yet. I'm so damn sick of shopping."

He looked around briefly, nodded as if to himself.

"There's a coffee shop on the second level. Will that do?"

"That would be wonderful."

He smiled. But only for a second. Then they were walking toward the escalator, still not touching, not talking, even in this public place, because you never know who was around the next bend, behind the pillar, the elevator door.

The entered the coffee shop first, while she waited. He was back in a moment and they were at a booth, holding menus, the waitress pouring water. Just like real people.

When the waitress left, she sank back, close their eyes. "God, I'm tired."

"I know," he said and even his voice was different here. Like the James she used to know. "You seem to be settling in."

She opened one eye; stared at him. "Settling in? Is that what you think?"

"I see you with him. How you touch him."

She opened other eye, not believing what she was hearing. "You're kidding, right?"

James reach across the table, grabbing her wrist. She couldn't stop her wins all the fact that he saw it. He let go of her instantly and his gaze shifted to the reddish bruise.

The air seemed to leave him in a whoosh, emptying him until he could hardly hold up his head. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Me, too."

"It's because of what I said, isn't it? That you let him"

"Let him? Like I have a choice?" She leaned over, her gaze never leaving his. "He has my son."

"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, he does."