“Like I’ve been run over by a truck. Was there… a doctor here last night?”
“Yes. I called someone. She gave you those pills.”
“It feels weird that I can’t remember what she looked like.” I sit down on the side of the bed, still only wrapped in a towel. “Should we drive home? This hotel room is nice and all, but I think I’m ready to leave.”
Rafe’s eyes linger on mine without answering.
“Or… what?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Yes, if you feel up for it. You can sleep in the car. But only if you feel strong enough.”
“I do. I feel better.” I reach for the chocolate buttons. He bought those for me, and if I dwell on that too much, I’m afraid that feeling inside me again, the one that feels like I’m about to break, might come back.
“Are you hungry?” he asks.
“Yes. Weirdly enough.” I cock my head. “Can we stop at a drive-through on the way? Do they have those in Switzerland?”
“Yes, we do. I can make that happen.”
“Thank you.” Then I wince. “I said it again, didn’t I?”
“Yes,” he says, but the curved smile on his face doesn’t disappear, and it’s hard to look at. It makes me want to smile back. “Don’t worry. I’ll annoy you soon enough, and we’ll be even.”
We check out and the valet brings around his car. I’m wearing another one of his T-shirts, having grabbed it out of his suitcase, and my navy sweatpants. The shirt smells like him.
I hate that I like that, too. The list of things I truly hate about my husband seems to be shrinking by the day. I have to remind myself of the way I ended up here, wearing his ring and doing his bidding. Of the deal we made and the fate of my company.
But I shouldn’t have to remind myself.
It’s getting harder and harder to find the anger.
Rafe sets off through Lausanne, and we stop at a drive-through. We both grab a burger and fries, and it’s the best meal I’ve ever had. I tell him that, so enthusiastically that he laughs.
Laughs.
The novelty of seeing him drive stick has worn off, but I still watch his hand shift gears every so often.Maybe he could teach me someday, I think, half asleep. In a world where we have endless amounts of time and can be something more akin to friends. Friends who occasionally help each other out with orgasms and kiss in ways that leave me breathless.
I doze off for the first hour, and when I blink my eyes open, we’re in the countryside. We pass by lakes and roads that wind around greenery, fields and tall mountains. Thereare snowcapped tops way up high, even in the middle of summer and fields of flowers.
Despite the heavy cloud coverage, it’s pretty, in a dramatic sort of way. Looking like it might rain over paradise.
“It must be wonderful to hike here,” I say.
“Yeah. We did that sometimes, as a family.”
“Have you done it since? As an adult?”
He’s quiet for a few seconds. “No. I haven’t been in the Alps much in the last decade or so.”
“Oh.” I turn to look at him. “Como, Switzerland or Paris?”
“That’s not fair. I can’t answer that. And even if I did, it would be very bad PR if it ever got out.” He glances at me. “You know that, as the PR expert.”
“Are you afraid I’ll tell on you?”
“I’m always afraid of you,” he says in a voice that says the absolute opposite. The clouds look thunderous above us, dark and moving swiftly across the mountains.
I close my eyes again, just for a moment, against the heaviness in my head.
