Chapter Twenty-One

Then

Mason and I were finally going to one of those gala nights I once dreamed of. I was excited as I put on a beautiful blue dress that hugged my curves and made me feel sophisticated and sexy at the same time. I took care with my hair and makeup. My husband was the star of the evening and I wanted him to be proud to have me on his arm.

I didn’t let him see me until I was completely finished. When I walked into the living room to join him he smiled, smoothly walking to me. That familiar tug in my stomach was back after a long absence. I wanted to scrap the entire night and go back into the bedroom and make love like we used to.

“You look beautiful,” he said, bending and giving me a quick kiss on the lips. He pulled back before I could wrap my arms around him. That tingling instantly evaporated as I felt his rejection. It shouldn’t. He said the right words, even kissed me, but he seemed distracted.

“Thank you. You look quite devastating in your suit. You’re wearing my favorite tie,” I said as I reached up and adjusted it. Maybe he was just nervous about the show. That made sense. Of course he was. His paintings had gone up in value and this night could be a big night for him.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes.” I waited for him to hold out his arm, but he didn’t, he just turned and walked toward the garage. I followed him, forcing myself to keep the smile on my lips. He had a lot on his mind. It was going to be fine.

He forgot to hold the car door open for me, but we had been married a long time. Maybe those sort of courtesies eventually died. I didn’t want them to, though. Those are the gestures that made me feel special, desired, loved. I’d always appreciated how much he cared about me, how he anticipated my needs. I didn’t know what was happening to us, but I didn’t like it.

We remained silent as we drove to the gallery. We were an hour early and only the employees were there, but it was beautifully set up. Mason’s artwork hung everywhere, and I wandered around looking at the pieces. I’d seen most of them, but there were a few I hadn’t seen him working on. He was growing slightly edgier, a little darker in his work.

I liked it.

After a while the room’s lighting muted, making the lights on the key paintings really stand out. Tables were set and waiters were ready to carry appetizers and drinks to patrons. The room began to fill.

I lost sight of Mason as I talked to potential buyers who told me they were impressed with the show. It was interesting that people either loved it or hated it. There wasn’t a lot of in-between. A good two hours passed without me seeing Mason. I was sure he was speaking with clients.

I began to look for him. I found him in one of the smaller rooms of the gallery speaking with a petite blonde. Jealousy stirred in my gut as she laughed, throwing her head back slightly, giving him an enticing view of her neck. She reached out and placed her perfectly manicured pink fingernails on his dark suit jacket, and he smiled at her.

Jealousy ripped through me. I didn’t care if he was trying to sell his paintings. That wasn’t appropriate. I wanted to scratch the woman’s eyes out, but I took a few deep breaths, grabbed a glass of wine from a passing waiter, and took my time approaching them.

“I’d love to see where you make these incredible creations,” the woman crooned as I walked up.

“Ah, that’s only for the most special of clients,” Mason told her. My rage rose. His voice was far too flirty. Had I been wrong about him? Had he been cheating on me? That was foolish; he was simply being a good salesman.

“Yes, only the most special get to see the studio,” I said, proud of how calm I sounded as I approached.

The woman turned a dismissive eye to me before focusing on Mason again. I put my arm through his, earning an assessing look from her. Neither of us wore our rings. I don’t know when we stopped wearing them. Strange.

“I’m Miranda, Mason’s wife.” I held out my free hand.

To the woman’s credit, she didn’t react to my words. Mason didn’t either. I couldn’t tell if he thought my entry was an intrusion or not, but if he did, he shouldn’t. I was his wife and had the right to be at his side.

“I’m Bella,” the woman said, giving me the tips of her fingers for only the briefest of seconds. “I was just telling Mason how impressed I am. I have an exclusive clientele that loves original pieces. They love to find up-and-coming artists, buying some of their earlier work before they go viral. It makes them feel as if they can spot true talent, which to be honest, they are very good at.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bella,” I said. It wasn’t a pleasure at all, but if she could help make Mason’s dreams come true then I was more than willing to put on a fake smile and talk to her. I’d just keep my eye on her. There was something I didn’t trust about her.

“You as well,” she said, before turning from me. She was clearly done communicating with the wife. “I will definitely talk with you more,” she told Mason, her voice softening just enough to make me want to punch her in her perfect cosmetically enhanced nose.

She held out a card, letting her fingers drag along his palm as she left it with him. I clung more tightly to his arm. Bella walked away. I watched the sway of her hips, too scared to look at Mason to see if he was doing the same. The woman was beautiful. I could see how she was successful at selling expensive pieces of art. She was an art piece herself.

“Are you having a good time?” he asked.

The flirtatiousness was out of his tone as he looked at me. He didn’t seem irritated, only incredibly tired.

“It’s been a beautiful night. How are you doing?” I reached up and ran a finger along his strong jawline, then over his bottom lip. He normally kissed my finger when I did that, but not tonight.

“I’m tired,” he said. “It’s been a lot of talking.”

There was no one else in the room with us, so I moved to stand in front of him. I wrapped my arms around him and stood on my toes so I could kiss his lips. He kissed me back, but he seemed too distracted to really enjoy it.

“How about we go home? The crowd has definitely thinned.” I pressed up against him so he was clear what I wanted.

He looked at me and I was relieved that a slight sparkle entered his eyes. He wrapped an arm around my back and tugged me closer. This was my husband. This was the man I wanted to be with forever.

“The gallery did say it was good for me to make a timely exit,” he said, the corner of his mouth turning up.

Excitement began building in my stomach again. I refused to let go of his hand as he found the gallery owner and told her we were leaving. She promised to have numbers to him within a couple of days then said goodbye. We snuck away.

We made small talk on the way home and he told me about some of the exciting people he met with. He said Bella’s name a few too many times and I had to fight to keep my smile in place. I assured myself he’d forget all about Bella by the time we got home.

We arrived home and moved into the bedroom and made love. But it wasn’t what I expected. It was slow and sweet, and he was more attentive than he’d been in a while, but he was distracted. It took him a while to get hard. It took him a while to come. I was left feeling very unsatisfied even if I did have an orgasm.

When we turned over to go to sleep, it felt as if he pulled away from me. Was I pulling away from him as well? I didn’t allow myself to think about it. Maybe ignorance was bliss.

Our rut seemed to be getting deeper, and I didn’t know how to stop it from turning into a canyon.