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Adrienne woke with the sun on her face and quilts tangled around her legs. She watched Nick sleep for a minute. She’d forgotten what this was like, watching someone in unguarded moments. He looked different. Older. He hadn’t shaved and his hair had been mussed.
Stirring, he flung his arm over her. In his sleep, he pulled her close and she let him draw her to him.
She had so many questions. A night in a cabin didn’t answer any of them. In fact, their night together just seemed to highlight all her questions in red. Had he come to South America to visit his uncle, or her? Did he really love her? His hold on her tightened and his breath fanned her cheek.
At this moment, should she turn away? Sanity told her she must, but she closed her eyes, seduced by the warmth, quiet, and comfort.
She had so many questions, but they could wait.
#
Cold. The smell of doused fire drifted from somewhere. Instinctively, she reached for Nick’s warmth, but found only icy sheets. Realization washed over her, and she sat up. Her eyes felt gritty, her teeth fuzzy. She needed a bathroom. A real one. One with white porcelain and running, flushing water. She wanted bath salts, body gel and a loofa. Lying down, she pulled the quilt over her head.
She’d spent the night with Nick. Her husband’s cousin.
Nothing had happened.
That, at least, was good. Right? Sex would only have complicated things.
She’d cuddled up to him. For warmth.
Peeking out from under the quilt, she wondered where he’d gone. And why.
Outside the window, a bleak sun shone in a steel gray sky. Adrienne sat up and looked at all the damage the storm had caused—downed branches, bent trees and thousands of pinecones scattered on the ground. Just yesterday, it’d been warm. Or was it two days ago? She couldn’t remember.
Where had Nick gone? She knew he wouldn’t leave her alone. Adrienne climbed from the bed, taking the quilt with her. She spotted his bag in the corner.
He’d left the bag but taken his wallet and phone. Twinges of guilt pricked her as she went through Nick’s things. She told herself he wouldn’t mind.
She gathered what she needed—toothbrush, toothpaste, and comb. Her hair, a snarled curly mess, resisted her efforts, and she twisted it up into a bun. She went outside in search of a privacy tree or makeshift potty. Lots of trees, but no Nick.
She returned to the cabin and put Nick’s toiletries back in his bag. Her fingers hit something smooth and the light from Nick’s phone flashed at her.
A text from Seb lit the screen.
After a quick glance over her shoulder, she drew out the phone.
Thanks for keeping her away.
Adrienne had always thought the cliché the headlines screamed ridiculous, because how could printed words be at all vocal, let alone scream? But Seb’s words tore through her and thundered in her mind. Her thoughts skittered back to yesterday’s hike to the glaciers and the sound of the splintering ice breaking and falling into the lake. That was how she felt. She was breaking and the sound of it was deafening.
Sitting on the bed, she cradled the phone in her lap, longing to read the entire text message chain. But she couldn’t. The only text showing was the one. To access the others, she’d need Nick’s password.
But this one was enough, wasn’t it? Seb wanted her out of the way so badly, he’d sent his cousin to keep her entertained.
And Nick. What exactly was his role? He’d said he loved her, but did he really? And how could he, when she was so broken?
She threw on her jeans and sweater, slipped into her shoes and stepped out into the bleak sunshine.
Up the road, she saw Nick talking to a man in baggy pants standing beside a truck. A thick yellow tow rope attached the truck to their rental car.
Adrienne didn’t know what to say. Should she tell him she’d found his phone with the text message? A part of her wanted to tell him she was sorry, but she didn’t know exactly what for, and she didn’t know if he would misconstrue her apology as something she didn’t mean. She didn’t know what she meant. She didn’t know what she wanted.
Should she go home?
Should she try to fight for her marriage?
