What He Left Behind (18 page)

Chapter Twenty

A few days after Ian and I reconnect, I’m meeting Michael for lunch. That’s not unusual; we’ve been having lunch together a couple of times a week ever since I started working on the same side of town as the vet clinic.

But when he walks through the door of our usual restaurant, I do a double take. There’s a grin on Michael’s face that he can’t quite suppress, and he’s definitely trying. When he takes his seat across from me, he’s practically bouncing.

I cock my head. “What?”

“Hmm?” He presses his lips together, but that only makes it worse. “What?”

“You know what.”

He stops even trying, and that smile takes my breath away. “Dr. Klein was in the clinic this morning.”

“Oh yeah? And did you talk to him?”

“I did.” He’s beaming now. God, he’s beautiful when he’s this happy. “And uh, I told him I got cold feet before, and asked if the offer was still open.”

My jaw drops. “
You
actually asked
him
out?”

Michael laughs. “Come on, don’t sound quite so surprised.”

“Well, I…”

“It’s okay.” He reaches across the table and puts his hand on my arm. “It kinda surprised me too.”

“So, was the offer still open?” As if I need to ask.

Michael squeezes my arm, then withdraws his hand. “We’re having dinner tomorrow night. Then I guess, um…” He laughs, sounding nervous and relieved at the same time. “I guess we’ll see what happens.”

I chuckle, arching my eyebrow. “You don’t have to call him Dr. Klein over dinner, do you?”

“No. It’s just a habit at the clinic.” He smiles, and I’m surprised little hearts don’t appear in his eyes. “I guess I’ll have to get used to calling him Ben.”

The sound of the doctor’s first name hits me in the chest for some reason. “I’m sure you’ll get used to it.”

“Just have to remember not to call him that at the clinic. Ah, hell. If I do, who cares, right?”

“Though hey, what better way to remind yourself you’re dating a doctor?”

“We’re not dating. It’s one—”

“Not yet.” I grin. “But after tomorrow…”

“We’ll see.” Michael picks up the menu, even though he and I have both memorized it a hundred times over. He gives it a cursory glance before he lays it down again and meets my gaze, that grin still crinkling the corners of his eyes. “This is so weird. I haven’t been on an actual date in ages.”

“Well, don’t expect me to come over and help you pick out what to wear.”

Michael snorts. “Right. That’ll be the day.”

“So where are you guys going?”

His lips quirk. “I don’t know. We didn’t get that far. We’re meeting at the clinic since we both know where it is.” He half shrugs. “I guess we’ll see what happens after that.”

I smile, though I’m not sure why it takes so much work. “I guess we will.”

After lunch, we both need to get back to work, but neither of us is in a huge rush on the way out to the parking lot. The walkway seems shorter today, though, and too soon, we’re at the curb.

Our eyes meet. This is usually the moment for “have a good one” and “see you next time” and “try not to choke anyone at work” before we both walk away—him to his car, me to my office. But we’re not moving, and we’re not speaking, and we’re not leaving.

My heart speeds up. “So, um…”

This silence is fucking stubborn. I need to get back to work before my boss gives me the evil eye, but I can’t make myself say good-bye.

Suddenly, Michael steps forward, puts his arms around me and hugs me tight. “Tomorrow night wouldn’t be happening if it hadn’t been for you.” His voice wavers a bit, and he whispers, “Thank you so much, Josh.”

“You’re welcome.” I hold him close and squeeze my eyes shut. “I’m so glad you’re back on an even keel.”

“Me too.”

He doesn’t let go. Neither do I.

“Good luck tomorrow,” I whisper. “I really hope this works out for you.”

“So do I.” He finally releases me, and when our eyes meet, his are clearer and brighter than they’ve been in a while. “Even if it doesn’t, I think…” He shrugs. “I think I’m okay with that. If it doesn’t work out with him, it will with someone else.”

“Of course it will. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

Michael smiles. “Well, I’ll let you know how it goes.”

I smile back. “I can’t wait to hear.”

Be good to him, Dr. Klein…

Chapter Twenty-One

The next night, as we have so many times over the years, Ian and I cuddle up on the couch with the animals to watch TV. Ariel is taking up more space than she has any right to. Rosie is on the armrest, letting Ian pet her while she stays firmly out of my reach. In front of us is a rerun of The Big Bang Theory—I can almost lip synch the dialogue because we’ve seen this one five hundred times, but the jokes are still funny. This is as normal as it gets in this house, but it feels all wrong.

I glance at my phone. It’s eight thirty.

By now, Dr. Klein and Michael are probably sitting in a restaurant somewhere, making conversation over drinks and appetizers, shyly fumbling their way through first-date nerves even though they’ve known each other for ages.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it? We’re here, and Michael’s out there, and I wonder if I’m even more nervous than he is tonight.

But it’s not just nerves. I can’t get comfortable. Can’t settle. Even when I remind myself a hundred times over that Dr. Klein is arguably the safest, gentlest man any of us know, there’s something else still tugging at my consciousness.

It’s almost like the letdown that comes after an exhilarating experience, but it doesn’t make any sense. This process with Michael has been about getting him back on his feet. What he’s doing tonight is exactly what we’ve been trying to help him achieve—the confidence and courage to take a chance with another man.

So why do I feel so empty?

Empty. That’s what it is.

And here comes the guilt. I resist the urge to fidget beside Ian and draw his attention to my discomfort, because this is something I really don’t want to explain. I’m not entirely sure I
can
explain it, but I damn sure don’t want to. How the fuck would I tell my husband I feel down and sad because Michael’s not here tonight? Because Michael’s out with another man, and all three of us have our fingers crossed that it works out?

I cuddle closer to Ian, ostensibly to give our ever-expanding dog some more room, and rest my head on his chest. Ian kisses the top of my head and adjusts his arm around my shoulders.

This is perfect. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never once felt like there was anything missing in my marriage. Ian isn’t perfect, but he’s the perfect man for me—I’d sworn off marriage and monogamy alike right up until I realized I was in love with him.

There’s nothing missing from my marriage to Ian, but where is this hollow feeling coming from? I’ve always been thrilled when Michael finds somebody—even that asshole, before I knew what he was really like—but tonight, I’m floundering.

Out of nowhere, Ian says, “You think he’s having a good time?”

My head snaps toward Ian. “Huh?”

“Michael.” He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind. “What?”

“I’m just, uh…”
Surprised you’re thinking of him too
. I clear my throat and shrug. “I hope he’s having a good time. God knows he deserves it.”

“Yeah, he does.” Ian’s expression hardens a bit. “And God help that vet if he doesn’t treat him right.”

That protectiveness sends a tingle right through me, and I fidget to mask a shiver. “No shit.”

“It sounds like he will, though. My fingers are definitely crossed for him.”

“Mine too.”

Ian eyes me. “You don’t sound all that enthusiastic?”

“I am.” My face burns. “Is it wrong that I’m going to be kind of disappointed when Michael moves on?” I cringe at my own words. “I mean, the sooner he’s in a good place, the better, but…”

“I know what you mean.” Ian takes my hand, and a little smile works its way onto his lips. “I think we’d both be lying if we said we haven’t enjoyed being with him, particularly now that it’s not so rough on him anymore.”

“True.” Why doesn’t that explanation feel like enough? “I guess it has been pretty fun for all three of us, especially the more he’s recovered.”

“It has.” Ian grins. “Let’s face it—our sex life is better than it’s been in a long time.”

I can’t really argue with that. We’ve been having more sex lately than we have for the past few years, and it’s been absolutely smoking hot. Not that it was ever lacking, but lately it’s been better. Just like our marriage—nothing has been missing all these years, but tonight it suddenly feels like there is.

Shame turns my stomach. It’s just an adjustment, that’s all. There is absolutely nothing missing in my marriage.

“Damn,” Ian says. “How is it already quarter to ten?”

Where is Michael now? Are he and Dr. Klein—

No, no, no. Don’t need to think about that.

“Time flies, I guess.”

“It always does.” Ian kisses my temple. “We should head to bed. Some of us have to be up at the crack of dawn.”

“Sucks to be you,” I say with a halfhearted laugh. “And what the hell? It’s not even that late yet.”

“Uh-huh. But if we go to bed now…”

Oh.

Oh
.

Ian’s alarm startles me awake. I usually sleep through it, or if I wake up at all, it’s not for long, but this time, he may as well have kicked me.

As he always does, he slips out of bed almost silently and goes into the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for work. That’s my cue to start drifting off again. He’ll wake me briefly with a kiss good-bye, murmur “I love you” in my ear, and then he’ll leave me to sleep until my own alarm screeches.

Except that drifting-off part isn’t happening. At all.

I listen to the shower come on. A few minutes later, it turns off again. The faucet runs. His razor clinks against the edge of the sink.

Fuck. I’m not going back to sleep, am I? With as much time as I spent wide awake last night, I could’ve used that extra hour or two of sleep, but it’s not happening. Might as well get up.

Rosie is still curled up on Ian’s pillow, and Ariel is sprawled across the foot of the bed. I carefully pull my legs out from under her so I don’t wake her up. She’s not much of a morning dog, though, and just grumbles and fidgets a little.

Sitting on the edge of the mattress, I rub my eyes as if that’ll actually banish the fatigue. At this hour? Not likely.

Coffee, we’re going to be really good buddies today.

I grumble some profanity as I push myself to my feet.

Like he always does, Ian’s got the bathroom door open to let the cool air in now that the shower has steamed everything up. He’s halfway through shaving when I lean against the doorframe. He glances at me as he rinses his razor.

“You’re awake.”

“Well, that’s being generous.” I yawn and rub my eyes again.

“Can’t sleep?”

I shake my head. “Might as well get up and get moving.”

“Thinking about Michael?”

“Am I that obvious?”

“No.” He tilts his head back and draws the razor up his neck. “But I was thinking about him a lot last night too.”

I shift uncomfortably. “Were you?”

“Kind of hard not to.” He glances at me, but then continues focusing on shaving. As he works his way along the side of his throat, he says, “Even if I hadn’t gotten physically involved, I’m still worried about the guy. And after I got involved…”

I raise my eyebrows.

He rinses his razor and glances at me again. “I don’t know. I guess I just felt more…invested. I’ve always cared about him, first because he was your friend, and then because he was also mine. And I guess getting physical with someone…”

It’s a struggle not to shift and fidget, especially as we both silently watch his reflection while he finishes his neck and jaw. If Ian’s gotten in deeper now that they’ve gotten physical, what does that mean for me?

That’s probably not something I want to think about. Especially not before I’ve had coffee.

Ian finishes shaving and dries his face. “Sink’s all yours.”

“Thanks.”

In silence, we go about our routines, and despite the tight quarters, we don’t get underfoot. After all this time, we’ve mastered the art of staying out of each other’s way. Especially since we’ve had to do this with a rambunctious boxer and, at times, a tripping hazard cat in the way.

As I finish brushing my teeth, Ian comes back in, buttoning his crisp white shirt, his shirttails untucked and his tie draped over his shoulders.

“You going to be okay today?”

“I’ll manage.” I shrug as I rinse my toothbrush. “We’ve got that high octane coffee at work now. I should be able to stay awake.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about.”

I meet his eyes in the mirror. “Yeah. That. I’m, um, having lunch with him today. I’ll find out how last night went.”

He rests his chin on my shoulder and wraps his arms around my waist. “Let me know?”

“I will. Definitely.”

Neither of us speaks, and he doesn’t let me go. It’s way too early in the morning for awkward silence, but there it is.

After a while, Ian finally says, “Listen, um…” He breaks eye contact but nuzzles the side of my neck, as if he wants to avoid my gaze but still maintain this affectionate embrace. “Maybe it’s just as well that Michael’s back on his own two feet now.”

Of course it is. It’s great that he’s confident enough to pursue something with another man. But I don’t think that’s what Ian’s getting at.

I reach back and rest my hand in his short hair. “Why’s that?”

“Because I’m starting to think this isn’t healthy anymore.” He kisses the back of my shoulder. “For you. It’s eating you alive.”

I lower my hand and sigh.

Ian keeps his eyes down. “If he does need more of this, we need to think about how long we let it continue. Before you start doing more damage to yourself than—”

“I’ll be fine.” I gently free myself and turn around. “Really. I will.”

He scowls and rests his hand on the back of my neck. “I want to believe that, but I know you.” He draws me in for a soft kiss. “You’re the kind of person who’d get yourself killed pulling someone out of a burning building.”

“I’m not saving him from a burning building.”

“Not literally, but you are going to be collateral damage if you’re not careful.”

“Then what do you think I should do?” I wrap my arms around his waist. “What should
we
do?”

“Well, last night will be a test of how far he’s really come. Maybe he’s ready to move on, and that’s great. But if he’s not…” Ian chews his lip. “That’s where things could get tricky. Because I want us both to see this through for his sake, but I also want to put a stop to it for yours. Except if he still needs us after last night, then that’s the worst possible time for us to call time on it, and…” Ian shakes his head. “How am I supposed to tell a wounded man he can’t have more of what helps him?”

My heart falls into the pit of my stomach. Pulling my husband close, I whisper, “I don’t know. I have no idea what we’re supposed to do now.”

“Talk to him. See how last night went.” Ian kisses my forehead. “Then we’ll all figure out where to go from there.”

I nod, not sure what else to say. I can’t explain my feelings to Ian. Not until I sort them out in my own head, anyway.

Ian glances at his watch. “Damn. I have to go.” He cups my neck in both hands and presses his lips to mine. “We’ll talk over dinner tonight. Okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He leaves the bathroom, and I listen as his footsteps continue down the stairs and across the hardwood foyer. When the door shuts, I release my breath. As the garage door rumbles open beneath my feet, I lean over the counter, holding on to its cool faux marble edge for balance.

I need to get my head together. I have no business feeling like this. Michael went on a date last night, and there is nothing in the world I want more than to hear that it was perfect. I hope like hell that I get a text from him before lunch. Something like,
Can’t make it. Long night. ;)

I hope and pray he spent the night with Dr. Klein, and the two of them are still lying there and enjoying each other’s company. He wasted enough of his life with a man who caused him to call in sick too many times because of ER visits. He deserves nothing less than someone who makes him call in sick because they can’t get enough of each other.

And somehow, for the sake of my friendship, my marriage, and my own sanity, I have got to get rid of this sudden jealous bone.