Page 55 of Rebound
Can I see you tomorrow night?
After an interminable, torturous wait, one word arrives.
Yes.
ChapterTwenty-Four
AMBER
I’m meeting Martha for a late lunch—in her case probably liquid. We’ve been in touch sporadically since the news broke about Elijah and me, and I made sure to contact her the minute Mason posted the statement. We might not be soul sisters, but she is one of the few women from my socialite life that I truly enjoy being around.
First, though, I am doing a little work in Amelia’s yard. Nothing major, because it is December, just some tidying and leaf-clearing. It keeps me busy. Last night was a lot, in every possible way. The dancing, the sex.
The gift.
When he told me that he loved me, I felt so raw and exposed. It was like we were no longer Mr. and Mrs. Smith—it felt like we were Amber and Elijah from twenty years ago, the world at our feet.
He was upset when I left so quickly, but I didn’t have a choice. I couldn’t think straight with him so close. It was too intimate, and there was a real risk of me losing my resolve and telling him I don’t want us to be over.
I miss him, and I’m still sad that my marriage is ending, but I am finding glimmers of hope in my new life. I like living in Brooklyn and getting to know this quirky neighborhood. I enjoy chatting with Mrs. K across the street and buying my own groceries. I’ve even been learning how to cook with the help of some YouTube videos. I’m putting in the work on myself, and I need to figure out if the way I felt last night is compatible with that.
Sanjay dropped me back here, and I made myself a mug of hot cocoa and settled down on the couch. My body was still singing from the orgasms and the dancing, and I took the ballet shoes out of their box and sat with them on my lap. I love the smell of new ballet shoes, the hint of leather and glue. They start to stink real fast, I remember.
They are beautiful shoes, and the more I look at them, the more I understand that what they represent is especially beautiful. I might be overthinking it, but I believe they represent acceptance. Elijah was worried about me living here and volunteering at the community center, but gifting me the shoes tells me he has accepted both. I told him what I want to try next in my life, and he’s supporting me.
I took a final happy sniff before I put them down and flicked on the TV. Exhausted mentally but too wired to go to bed, I was half watching an old episode ofTrue Bloodwhen I realized how much I want to be with him. Not back in that house, the way we were. But somewhere new for both of us. Was I crazy to think like that? Would opening my heart to him again mean sacrificing all the progress I’ve made? The shoes, I decided, said otherwise. The shoes said he could also adapt and accept that I had changed, that we were changing.
I was still turning it over in my mind when my burner phone pinged. My logical brain told me not to reply until morning. I was off-balance, confused by awesome sex and the simple pleasure of being wooed by my own husband. The logical part of my brain was a wuss though. It couldn’t hold out against the part of me that was overjoyed at the thought of seeing him again so soon. So I told him yes and went to bed feeling giddy.
The giddiness was still there when I woke up this morning, but so was the doubt. The affair is getting out of hand, at least for me. I am starting to feel far more than I should. I wonder if he’s feeling the same kind of uncertainty and that’s why he wants to see me tonight.
Overwhelmed by the myriad of questions without answers in my mind, I slam the lid down on the trash can so hard it makes a big metallic clang. “Hey Amber,” Mrs. K calls from across the street. “What did that trash can ever do to you?”
“It looked at me funny, Mrs. Katzberg.”
She waves her cigarette at me and cackles. “Well in that case, have at it, girl.”
I head back inside with a smile on my face, shoving aside thoughts of Elijah and focusing on getting ready. I take a quick shower and blow-dry my hair. I’m more comfortable in casual attire these days, but I make the effort to choose a nice outfit from my vastly reduced wardrobe. I’ll probably go straight from meeting Martha to seeing Elijah anyway, so the effort won’t be wasted. Not that he seems to care what I’m wearing or like I wear anything for long in his presence.
Still, I think he’ll notice this, I think as I study the red dress I chose. It’s slinky and a little lower cut than I normally wear, but I’m feeling it. I add the spike-heeled boots and another dangly necklace. Both will drive him wild. Martha will probably think I took the trouble to dress up because I’m newly single and looking to mingle. Nobody would ever guess the truth—that I have a date with the man I’m divorcing.
Last night, Sanjay let me know he wouldn’t be available today as he is on triplet duty with his wife, but I pick up a cab without any trouble. As we drive into the city, the burner phone goes off.
I can’t wait to see you later. I miss you so much. I really think we need to talk.
He’s right—we do need to talk. I want my independence and to learn to live in the real world and find my passion, but I also want him. There’s no denying it—I have fallen in love with my husband all over again. And as ever when falling in love, the feeling is complicated. It fills me with both joy and terror.
I can’t wait either. I agree we need to talk xxx
I add the kisses since I won’t be able to kiss him in person until tonight. Nothing has technically changed, yet I feel completely different. Like I’m floating on air. When I see him tonight, when I kiss him for real, I will be honest and tell him how confused I am. I’ll tell him about the changes I want to make in our lives, but I will make sure he understands that if he wants it, there is still the potential for this to beourlife. That we could give this another shot.
Another beep sounds from my purse, and the crazy-lady grin stays on my face as I pull out my other phone, the one that the rest of the world uses. It’s Martha, asking me to meet her outside Freddie’s offices because she’s running a little late after stopping by to talk to him about something.
I tell her no problem and let the driver know the new address. It’s in Midtown, near the cluster of high-class law firms and businesses that includes Jamestech and James and James.
I’m not sure how I’ll play it with Martha. We’ve previously managed to have incredibly boozy fun times out together without talking about anything personal at all. I’m hoping we can do the same today, except maybe with less booze. What I really don’t want is to spend the whole time talking about the split.
I’m dropped off right outside the building that houses Kemp, Michaelson, and Chambers, and right after I step into the lobby, another message lands from Martha.
