“Why her and not me? That’s all. I need to know why you want to be with Abigail Lowery—everybody knows you are—and you don’t want to be with me.”
Roland wanted to know, too, and not just for the client. He’d seen Lowery’s photo, and she was attractive, sure. Pretty, maybe even beautiful in a quiet sort of way. But next to the stupendous Sylbie? She was no cherry pie à la mode.
“I don’t know how to tell you.”
“Just tell me the truth. Is she better in bed than me?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“That’s the wrong thing to ask.” On an impatient gesture, she pushed back a glorious fall of hair. “I wasn’t going to ask, even though I wonder. Just give me something, will you, that I can understand?”
“She makes me happy. When I’m with her I feel like that’s where I’m supposed to be, where I’ve been wanting to be. And everything that matters makes sense. I don’t know why one person falls in love with another, Sylbie. They just do.”
“You’re in love with her?”
“I’m in love with her.”
She stared down at the tabletop for a moment. “Can I have a sip of your coffee?”
“Sure.”
She took it, grimaced, set it down again after one sip. “You always drink it too sweet.”
“Bad habit.”
“Did you ever love me?”
“I wanted you. There were times I craved you like I was starved to death. The first time around, we were too young to know. The second? Maybe we were both trying to know. I couldn’t make you happy. You couldn’t make me happy. And nothing that really mattered made sense.”
“The sex did.”
He laughed a little. “Okay, you’re right about that. But sex, even good sex, can’t be the start, finish and the whole in between.”
“I thought I’d figured that out after my first divorce, but I guess I didn’t. And the second one…I never wanted to be the kind of woman with two divorces on her back.”
She turned to stare out the wide window. “But I am.”
“Maybe you should think of it as two marriages. I figure people who try marriage more than once, they’re optimists.”
“Optimists.” With a half-laugh, she shoved his coffee away. “Sounds better than a loser.”
“You’re not a loser, Sylbie.”
“I’m sort of seeing Grover.”
“You…oh.” Brooks picked up his coffee, gulped some down. “Well.”
“I know. He’s not the type I usually aim for. He’s not handsome, and he’s a little paunchy. But he’s got a sweetness to him. You did, too, but I didn’t appreciate it. I’m appreciating his. We’re not sleeping together yet, but I feel good when I’m with him. I feel better about myself. I guess we’re friends the way you and I never were.”
“That’s good.”
“He makes me happy, and I didn’t expect to be. I guess I’ll find out if I can stay happy.”
“I hope you can.”
“So do I.” She slid out. “I don’t think I’m ready to say I hope you stay happy with Abigail Lowery, but I nearly am.”
“That’s a start.”
