The Alphabet of Love Ch. 09

Chapter Nine

Over wine and prime rib I told him about Trevor. I hadn't intended to reveal my other relationship to him, but he'd always been so straightforward with me, I felt I had no choice. I wouldn't lie to him. He deserved better.

"Well," he sipped a brilliant Cabernet after we'd finished our meal, "I can't be angry with you. I'm not surprised you met someone, Shiloh. You're a beautiful, accomplished woman. Believe me, I've worried that you might get married and we wouldn't even have our . . . trysts anymore. They've been the only thing keeping me sane the last couple of years. You've given me something to look forward to."

"I don't know if I have a future with him or not," I said. "I won't know for nearly a year. I feel stupid putting myself on hold for something that may never happen. Really, it's ridiculous to think of waiting when he could easily change his mind and stay with her."

"But you think he's worth it?"

I shrugged. "Maybe. I did. Until things changed with you."

"I just dumped this on you," he smiled and shook his head. "You have a lot to think about. I just want you to know that I love you and there is no doubt in my mind about that."

I reached over to squeeze his hand. "I do love you, Derek. Ever since you emailed me I've been trying to decide if I'd be happy without children. A man like you doesn't come along very often."

"I already told you, I'm open to having children," he leaned close and kissed my ear.

I looked into his deep brown eyes. "You have grown children. I don't want you to resent me a few years from now, feel like I forced you to go through the work of raising a family all over again."

"Listen. When my kids were young, I worked all the time. I didn't help Brenda at all, even when I was home. I felt like she should take care of me just like she did the kids because I provided everything for her. I guess I can't blame her for leaving me, when I was more married to my work than to her. But I'm at the point in my career now -- I'm well-established and I could even semi-retire, and spend time with you and a child or two. In fact, I think I'd love it."

This was too good to be true. Nothing in my life had ever been this easy. Whenever I fantasized about being married with children, my husband and I were near the same age, both working, successful, with busy, fulfilling lives. Was it just because Derek didn't fit my preconceived ideas that I had qualms? It just didn't feel like I thought it would. How stupid would I be to abandon what he was offering me, just to hold onto a fantasy that probably wouldn't be all I expected even if it came true?

He downed his wine and smiled at me. "Let's not talk about this anymore for awhile. Let's just enjoy being here and being together. What do you say?"

I agreed readily. I had a lot of thinking to do.

We left the restaurant and meandered around the magnificent gaming area of the Bellagio, a bit busier than I would have expected on Christmas Eve. Derek played a few hands of Blackjack and I bet on the roulette wheel for an hour or so. Neither of us got lucky, but it didn't matter. We returned to our room around midnight, yawning. Between his day of travel, our sex marathon, and the wine, I could see Derek needed to sleep. But he had one more surprise for me.

"Merry Christmas, my love," he came to me after I'd undressed, standing naked in front of the bathroom mirror. In his hand he held a rectangular velvet box. A necklace or bracelet, I surmised.

"Derek, you didn't have to do this," I gazed into his eyes, and we kissed.

"I know. But I love you and I enjoyed shopping for you."

I took the box in my trembling hands. Inside lay a necklace on a gold chain, delicate, elegant. A teardrop diamond pendant sparkled. I dared not contemplate what it cost. I started to cry.

"Here, I'll put it on you," he deftly plucked it from the box and I held up my hair for him to clasp it. It dropped onto my upper chest, my breasts framing it. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"I love it."

He kissed my neck. "I'm glad. I love you."

"I love you," I turned, put my arms around his neck, and kissed him, then took his hand and led him to the bed. "You sit here," I said.

Smiling, he did as I bade and watched me go to my suitcase. I unearthed a small box as well, mine wrapped in iridescent paper, a slightly smashed bow on top. He took it from me.

"What's this?" he smiled as he carefully undid the wrapping.

"I hope you like it."

I'd bought him the most up-to-date, coolest, FitBit bracelet on the market. If he already had one, it probably wasn't this sophisticated.

He smiled as he looked it over. "I've been thinking about one of these."

"You don't have one?"

"No," he shook his head. "You know me. I'm an old school dinosaur. I'm still wearing my seventies style jogging suit when I run. You can still find them on eBay."

I laughed. "Oh god, that's so funny. I love you."

He laughed, too. "Now I have to figure out how to use it. Will you help me?"

"Of course I will."

"I'm technologically challenged," he said, which I knew to be a lie. He'd been the guy who'd developed, with software engineers, new renal function preservation protocols, dialysis improvements, and transplant efficiencies.

"Sure you are," I indulged him.

"Will you come with me in the morning? We'll go for a run down the strip."

"I might drop dead," I said.

"You're twenty years younger than me," he reminded me.

I shrugged. "You have no idea how out of shape I am."

He eyed me, standing there naked. "I think you look fabulous."

"I'll go," I relented, "as long as I get a champagne breakfast afterward."

"It's a deal," he agreed with a laugh.

"Move over," I said, climbing into bed. "I'm tired. If you think I'm going for a run with you, I need some rest."

"All right," he agreed, getting up from the bed to undress. "And I guess sometime tomorrow I'll call my kids. Or I'll try to. See if they'll talk to me."

I thought of Trevor and wondered if he'd try to call me. At least if he did I wouldn't have to lie to Derek about it.

Derek and I snuggled close, his arm around me, and I fell asleep at once. The warmth of him, the security of his love, made sleeping in a strange bed somehow not strange at all.

Who was this crazy couple, running down the Strip on Christmas morning? That had to be the question on the minds of anyone who drove past Derek and me. He in his bright blue jogging suit and cheesy sweatband, me in sweat pants and t-shirt, ponytail swinging behind me -- what a sight. After the first block or so I began to understand the difference between regular bras and sports bras. My ample boobs bounced hard. I wasn't sure how much I could take.

"You okay?" he asked, looking over at me.

He might have twenty years on me, but his strides were long and easy, his breath only a bit strained. We'd fiddled with his FitBit before we left, and he was excited about using it.

"I'm okay," I managed to push the words out of my lungs.

He let up, and pulled me to a stop on the sidewalk. "You sure? Your face is all red."

"My boobs hurt," I admitted, folding my arms over my chest, hugging them.

"Aw, well, I'll take care of them when we get back," he winked.

"No you won't. Not if they're hurting."

"I'll buy you a sports bra for next time."

"If I'd known we were going to do this, I'd have brought one."

He smiled. "Sorry, Shiloh. You want to go back?"

I nodded. "I'm sorry, but I do. I'm not sure how much more I can take."

He put an arm around me, kissing my forehead. "I know you're just thinking about champagne."

"Hell yes," I smiled up at him.

But he was thinking about sex. We showered together and finally made it down to the Christmas brunch around ten. I wore my diamond necklace; several women noticed and complimented me on it. When I told them it was a gift from Derek, they gave their husbands looks that said, "Why didn't you do that?"

I hadn't looked at my phone since last night. After Derek and I filled our plates and toasted each other with champagne, I heard my text message notification. I took the phone out of my purse and saw a text from Trevor:

"Merry Christmas, beautiful."

"Is it him?" came Derek's voice at my ear.

I nodded, and texted back "Merry Christmas."

I dropped the phone back into my purse just as I heard the notification again. I left it there.

"Go ahead and call him if you need to," Derek told me, spreading a cloth napkin across his lap.

"I don't 'need' to," I said quickly.

"It's all right," he said, catching my gaze, nodding.

I sighed. "I wouldn't know what to say to him. I have to tell him about you, but at the same time I don't know why. We never made any commitment."

"Neither did you and I," he pointed out, buttering a luscious croissant.

"I'll think about it. Maybe I'll call him later."

He nodded, and let it go. My god, he was incredible. Most men would be seething with jealousy. Derek? Cool, calm, supportive. He continued to treat me with respect and love. It was as if the universe were pounding me over the head, neon lights flashing "don't let this slip away!" Yet I still hesitated.

After brunch, he went for a walk to talk to his kids and mother while I returned to our hotel room. I'd had missed calls from my parents, Isabel, and Trevor. The thought of talking to all of them gave me a headache. I decided to tackle the most difficult first.

Still feeling the effects of two glasses of champagne, a little mellowed out, I called Trevor.

"Hey there," he said, sounding relaxed. "How's Vegas?"

"It's great," I answered. "How's the skiing?"

"Great. We skied this morning and I'm going boarding in a little while."

Snowboarding. A sport you associate with limber, invincible teenagers and twenty-somethings. Trevor had probably been doing it for years; I knew Boise had a ski area close to town. If anything pointed up the age difference between him and Derek, this was it. Derek with his '70s jogging apparel, and Trevor 'boarding like a kid.

"It's quiet here," I told him. "I'm sure things will be back to normal tomorrow, though."

"What have you been doing? Vegas doesn't seem like it would be much fun on your own," he observed.

I took a deep breath. "I'm not alone."

"Did your friend go with you?" he asked; I assumed he referred to Isabel.

"I'm here with a man," I said straight out.

A long silence.

"Someone I've known for awhile, a nephrologist from Boston," I explained.

"Oh," was all he said. I could tell I'd shocked him.

"He got in touch with me," I said, hoping to soften the blow a little. "We've met at conferences here and there over the last couple of years."

"Well," he said slowly, "I can't say anything, I mean, I can't offer myself to you free and clear so I can't be self-righteous."

"Thank you," I said.

"Do you love him?"

The question caught me off guard. "Well, I . . . I mean, well, yes, in a way I do. We're good friends. He's a good man. He's older."

"Older? What do you mean?"

"He has grown children."

"He's married?"

"His wife left him," I said, wondering how awful it must sound to his ears. The truth came seeping out word by word.

"Oh, so that's why he called you," he sounded a bit miffed now.

"We keep in touch," I said weakly.

"I'll leave you alone if that's what you want." He was hurt, and indignant.

"I never said that. I don't know what I want, Trevor. I really don't. He -- he's asked me to marry him. I don't know what to do."

"Well, you either want to marry him or you don't," he said, sounding even more upset now.

"I need to know about you," I said, throwing it back at him. "You haven't promised me anything, and I haven't asked you to. But is it fair for me to have to wait and see with you, when you could decide to stay with your wife? I mean, Derek is wonderful, he treats me like a goddess. He even says he'd be willing to have children."

"Well, then, what are you waiting for?" he shot at me.

"Trevor, I --"

"Listen, I know I can't promise you anything. I'm sorry. I truly am, I think we'd be great together. I'd love to have a family with you. But you know the situation I'm in. I explained it to you."

"I know you did!"

"Then you have to decide. I won't ask you to wait until the election, I don't have the right to do that. But do you want to spend the rest of your life wondering 'what if'?"

I sighed angrily. "No I don't want that. But -- god! I don't know what to do."

"Is he pressuring you to marry him?"

"No, he's not even divorced yet. And I told him about you."

"Yeah? What's he say about that?"

"He's not angry. He's giving me time to decide what I need to do. You know, I don't have to pick either one of you. I can tell you both to go to hell."

"Oh, so go ahead then," he snapped. "If that's what you want."

"It's not what I want! I just want you to know I have choices; I'm not a woman who needs to get married so I'll be taken care of. I'm going to marry for love, and to someone who wants to have a family with me."

"I already told you I did. But you've known this clown longer. Maybe you trust him more."

"He's not a clown," I said, angry.

"You want your kids' father to be in a wheelchair when they graduate from high school? Some slobbering guy with Alzheimer's?"

"Oh, you don't know Derek," I said, shaking my head. "He's very young for his age. He stays in shape just like you do."

"So? He'll still be an old man with young kids. And a hot, sexy wife."

"If we're all happy, who cares?"

"Like I said, do what you want."

"I'm not saying I couldn't be happy with you."

"You could be, you would be. I'd treat you like a goddess, too. And do all kinds of fun shit with our kids. They'd love me."

I laughed. "I know they would. It's not that. I just -- god, I'm so confused."

"I'm at a disadvantage here, he's got you there, in his bed, and I can't compete with that. Can he even get it up?"

I blanched at his language, but fiercely defended Derek. "Yes, he can. He's a wonderful lover."

"How long do you suppose that will last?"

I bit my tongue to keep from telling him that lovemaking sessions with Derek lasted longer than they did with him.

"I'll talk to you when I get back to Seattle," I told him.

"Don't do anything you don't want to do," he said, sounding flippant.

"Don't give up on me. Okay?"

He hesitated, then said, "All right, I won't. Just think about things, okay?"

"I will. It's all I've been doing."

"And stop letting him touch you."

"Fat chance," I said with a laugh.

That went well, I thought facetiously, dropping my phone onto the bed. There was no way in hell I could talk to anyone else right now. I texted my parents and wished them Merry Christmas and said I was going to a show and couldn't talk. I texted Isabel and told her I'd call her tomorrow.