Matter of Choice (14 page)

Chapter Twenty

The card key slipped out of the slot, light turned green and Shannon stepped into the room, then froze. Candles glistened in the living area, soft music massaged the background, aromas of Italian cuisine marinated the air. Her brows furrowed as she allowed the handle to slip from her fingers. The door clicked shut, and Shannon craned her neck towards the kitchenette, taking another step
forward when she saw it empty.

“Hello?”

No reply, curiosity beckoned another step forward as red stains on the carpet pleaded for attention. She looked down, and noted the rose petals scattered in every direction. Sucking her lips over her teeth, she stifled a smile and took another step. “Hello?”

Triston appeared out of the bathroom with towel in hand and smile plastered across his lips. “Surprise.”

Laying her purse against the couch, she dropped her head to a shoulder, soft hair tickling a cheek. “How did you get in here?”

“I promised not to reveal my sources in efforts to keep jobs intact.”

Shannon giggled. “My staff will be required to attend a meeting in the morning in review of privacy policies.” She waved her hand across the hotel room. “What is all this?”

“Just a little gift to the most wonderful woman in the world.”

“Sounds like a bad pick up line, Triston.”

“Okay. How’s this?” He stepped forward to take her hands. “I’m showing, in just one little way, how very much I love you. How I want spend my life showing you how much I want you in my life, every day, for the rest of my life. I’ve waited for years to apologize for what I did when we were children, to apologize for making you think you weren’t good enough. You are the love of my life. Always have been and always will be.”

Shannon’s heart pounded. “Oh Triston, I don’t. I don’t know what to say.”

“No need to say anything.” His nose wrinkled playfully as his head jerked upward. “Or declare unending de
votion and love. Either works.”

Her tongue ran over her parched lips, words trapped somewhere inside. Triston was making it hard not to confess, the moral high ground stifling her heart’s escape. Silence triumphed.

Candlelight danced in Triston’s eyes, and he smiled. “Okay. Not ready for mountain top declarations.” He winked. “I can wait. Come, sit down. I’ve had everything prepared for you. Even that rabbit food you love so much.”

He led her to couch and she relaxed into the cushions, lips pinched with amusement as he sat next to her. The music stopped, the CD switching to another set of love songs. “I have to admit, you know how to turn a lady’s head. This is, amazing, Triston.”

“I want to do so much more than turn your head. I’m interested more in turning your heart.” He reached up and tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear, his thumb brushing a cheek as it pulled away.

Shannon’s lips turned upward, and hoped he didn’t see the changes within reflected in her eyes. The quiet acceptance of resolving vows, the covert pleasure in knowing a bad marriage was over. The growing tenderness and budding desire for him. Never good at concealing emotions, she gambled the amalgam was transparent, despite the resistance to admit the combination of feelings. She drew in a deep breath and looked around. “What’s for dinner?”

“Chicken parmesan. Rabbit food. The romance of some soda pop. I remember you don’t drink.” He took her hands in his and squeezed gently. “I hope nothing’s changed?”

Shaking her head, she smiled. “Nope. You’ve got it all right. Just like all of this.” A hand gestured across the expanse of the room. “When did you get such a romantic streak?”

“When I realized what I gave up. How foolish I was.”

She stood and crossed the room. Being so close was far too tempting, and she needed some space. A little room to breath before she made a mistake she wasn’t prepared to handle. “So you meant what you said before, about coming to the Grande to chase after me. Surely you didn’t have that in mind, knowing I was married and having a girlfriend with you.”

He shrugged and eased back against the back cushions, eyes drinking her in. “I came, in part, to see you, that’s true. I didn’t expect anything, just wanted to see that you were doing okay. Jennifer was a good friend and we tried for awhile to make it more, but couldn’t connect. I wouldn’t let her in, and she knew it. It wasn’t hard for either of us when she realized what was going on and chose to leave. But when I saw you …”

“All the old feelings came back.”

The grin on his face beamed brighter than the candlelight. “I’m glad to hear you felt the same way.”

She blushed pink and made her way to the kitchenette, retrieved a glass of Sprite and asked if he would like anything. When he declined, she leaned across the counter, sipped at the beverage and dared to ask the one question they hadn’t breached. “Whatever happened between you and that girl? What was her name?”

He leaned forward, forearms resting on his legs. “You mean the one that came between you and me?”

She nodded, shoulders tense. The answer was one she wasn’t sure she wanted to hear, yet one which badgered her all this time. Maybe the ans
wer would allow for it to rest.

“Veronica. Her name was Veronica. And we weren’t together long. A couple of months I think. Not even a year, I remember that. It wasn’t anything, not anything that mattered. I don’t know if that makes it worse or better.”

She chuckled and took another sip. “I don’t know either. Why? Did I suffocate you? Not give you what you wanted? What happened, Triston? You were my
everything
. I guess you knew that though.” She sighed and took another sip. “Maybe that’s what I did wrong.”

He stood, nearly flying across the living room to stand behind her, wrapping arms around her as he breathed hushed whispers. “Shy, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one wrong, not you. We were so young, and I was so immature. I wanted to be one of those guys who could get any girl, any time. Look good for friends.” Leaning down, he caressed her neck with brushing lips, sending shivers down her spine. She forced a swallow as Triston turned her to face him. “I had no excuse, and have none now. You were mine then, and I let you go. Once I realized that you were
my
everything, I’ve been looking for you ever since and didn’t even know it. Can you ever forgive me?”

A heavy breath trembled in her shoulders as she took a small step back. The kiss burned the skin on her neck and ignited desire. Deny it Shannon. “I’ve forgiven you a long time ago. I didn’t realize it, not until now. But you’re right. We were kids and kids make mistakes. We loved each other, that’s all that really matters.”

“There’s no past tense to it. I love you now. Can’t ignore the sparks between us.”

He glazed her face with a finger. Shannon’s body drank in everything about him, the fight against urges threatening to drown her in their call weakening.
No longer any reason for such strong resolve
.

“May I have this dance, Ms. Winters?”

She nodded, not hearing the melody or the words. The only thing that mattered was the feel of Triston’s hand guiding to the center of the living room, arms wrapping around and pulling her close against his body, muscles firm and protective. Shannon rested her head against a shoulder, eyes closed, swaying in time with his lead. His voice sung low in her ear, words of love and devotion, promises and lifetimes. She swallowed hard, tears stinging her eyes as the hold around his neck tightened. Meeting his eyes, allowing him to see everything burning within, wasn’t an option. She wasn’t sure she could explain it enough to satisfy either of them. His hands rubbed the back of her neck, her shoulder, her back, and stopped short above the small of her back.

Caresses, warm breath against skin and through fabric, words she never expected to hear again was melting her every reserve, yet she couldn’t pull away, not even when the music ended and Tris
ton continue to circle in time.

Slowly he stopped. She blinked rapidly, begging her eyes to swallow back the moisture, and lif
ted her head from his shoulder.

“Are you crying?”

She smiled. “It’s nothing.”

He nodded, shadows passing across his eyes momentarily. “Are you ready to eat?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Please make yourself comfortable. Allow me to serve you.”

She crossed the rose petals, some shredded by their circling feet, and settled at the dining table, wiping away tears beaded with candlelight, and rested the napkin in her lap. Triston nestled a plate on the placemat before her, and left one across the table before returning to the kitchenette to retrieve bowls of romaine lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, cabbage, cheese and egg. As he sat down, she smiled. “Since when do you eat salad?”

“Since I’ve become curious as to why the woman I love is so crazy about eating leaves with her meals.” He poked at the bowl with his fork, and took a bite of crispy greens. “It’s growing on me.”

Giggling, she took a bite.

Triston peered into the salad bowl, jaw muscles releasing and tightening in consideration. Shannon rested the fork agains
t her plate, waiting.

“Are you okay? You were upset while we were dancing.”

“No, I wasn’t.” She poked at the leaves. “Just a lot of emotions. I can’t tell you the last time I had anything like this done for me.”

He cut into the chicken and took a bite. “I’m sure you can’t. Complete fool.”

She nodded. “Maybe Greg is. I don’t know. And I’m beginning not to care anymore.”

Triston lifted his head and studied her. “Then why the emotion?”

“Can’t plead the fifth on that one?”

“You could. I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

Shannon rolled around a bite of cheesy Italian chicken, and swallowed hard. “Can’t you guess?”

“I’d like to hear it from you without trying to guess.”

She looked down, scanning the table, the plate, the glass, the utensils. “It feels so good to be in your arms again. Not just someone’s arms, but your arms. I want you to know, I wouldn’t be here with just anyone. Another man, regardless of Greg and I getting divorced, no one else could have gotten me up here like this. The atmosphere, music, candles, rose petals on the floor, even if another man would have made the same effort, I wouldn’t have wanted any of it. It’s you, Triston. I want to be with you.”

Triston dropped the fork on the table, neck stretching forward, gaping. “Are you telling me ...”

“I’m telling you I want us to get to know each other again. Figure out how far we can take it. See if we still love each other.” Tears spilled down her face, the admittance thick in the air between them.

He stood, chair teetering as he rushed around the table and pulled her up against him. “I don’t have to explore that. I love you, honey. I’ll love you forever.” His thumb caressed her lips, and then leaned forward. Their lips met, soft and tentative. Triston reached down around her waist, pressing her into him, the kiss growing possessive and urgent. His tongue licked across her lips, slipping inside Shannon’s mouth as her lips parted in open invitation. Breath quickened and she clung to him, body yearning for more, then sighing with frustration as the kiss slowed
and he eased her backwards.

“You’ve made me happier than any man could ever be. But I won’t allow you to do something you regret. You’re not ready, and I won’t go further until you are. The promise of trying is enough.”

With head slanted against his chin, the corners of Shannon’s lips curled upwards, eyes closed, allowing her insides to solidify again, slowing the rapid pulse. “This time it won’t be a mistake, will it? Because if we do this, and it is everything we want it to be, I’ll want it to be a forever love this time, Triston. Can you go there? Can we?”

He kissed her forehead. “I promise you now, you have me. Take all of me, for a lifetime, or ten of them. Take me forever.”

Shannon ignored the rest of the meal as Triston led to the center of the living room, twirling and spinning her, holding her tight as they danced. When the music ended, he escorted her to the couch, and draped his arms around her as she leaned into his chest. Words between them were lost in happiness, the comfort of a future bright with hope and love.

Chapter Twenty
One

Shannon moved around the room with feet barely touching the floor. Triston left the night before at a respectable eleven and kept his word. A simple kiss before he left and Shannon remained whole with the knowledge they didn’t take it further. Now with plans for the future brighter than they had been for longer than she could remember, the horribleness of Greg’s actions and choices were becoming less scathing. It was a good feeling.

Picking up rose petals was a bit of a chore, but she didn’t mind. The delicate petals, soft against her fingers, were mere reminders of confessions and promises made the night before. A sharp contrast to managing beer cans and discarded underwear. A good one. More than good. A perfec
t shift in reality.

One of the songs she and Triston had danced to hummed through her lips as Shannon collected the final petal and dropped it into a bowl in the kitchen, not ready to throw the collection in the garbage, and she twirled into the bedroom. Elation felt wonderful.

After a quick shower, she stood before the closet, struggling to focus on the day ahead, a familiar feeling as of late. She wondered if she needed a vacation. Maybe she and Triston could head up to Niagara for a long weekend once the divorce was finalized. It would be a good eight months or so before the trip could take place, but planning always helped make time move faster, and would give them both something pleasant to plan for during the ugliness of the divorce. She smiled, imagining riding the
Maid of the Mist
through falling water while Triston’s arms wrapped around her, his breath warm against her ear, beads of moisture dampening the air engulfing them.

A knock at the door broke through her reservoir. “You can clean the room in a moment, Trisha,” she called out, “Give me about ten minutes.”

Shannon started pushing past suits as the knock resonated again. Sighing, she grabbed the terrycloth robe off a hanger, wrapped it around herself and tied snugly at the waist. Singing softly, she strolled to the front door.

Her mouth dropped, hands clinging to the door, when Greg’s face appeared with
a bouquet of red roses in hand.

“Greg? What,” she stumbled with words. She stepped forward, narrowing the gap between the door and the doorjamb. “What are you doing here?”

His glossy ebony hair, combed back and clean, looked nicer than it had in months, his clothing absent of the stench of liquor. His fresh pressed suit looked smart and eager. He looked like Shannon remembered from before the accident. Handsome, successful. Like the man she fell in love with and married.

“Shannon. I remember. I remember you and I remember our marriage. I … I know I’ve done some things that haven’t been fair, I don’t remember a lot of it right now. But, I noticed you aren’t living at home. And I, I want you to come back. I want to work on saving our marriage, if you’ll allow me to.”

A closed fist hovered in front of her gaping mouth. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. “What do you mean, you remember? Did something happen?”

He shrugged, standing firm. Greg wasn’t pushing his way in, for which she was grateful, but he wasn’t retreating either. Pride and self-assurance seeped from his every pore. “No, I don’t think so. I woke up this morning and rolled over to hold my wife, and you weren’t there. Then I realized I was in the guest room, and thought maybe we had an argument. When I headed to the master room, the bed was made, your closet looked normal, and mine empty. Then I noticed the suitcases gone, and I figured you were here.” He paused, looking over her shoulder. “Can I come in so we talk?”

Lips sucked in, she shook her head. “No. I don’t think that would be a good idea. Give me a few minutes and we can go down to my office.”

He nodded once. “I’ll be waiting.”

Shannon closed the door and glanced around a room that, less than twelve hours ago, shone with hope and love. Now, it seemed darkened by despair. She shuffled towards the bedroom, stomach aching. Greg was back, and wanted to try to work on the marriage. How could she tell him no?

Dressing in the first suit her hand reached for, she tied her hair back, and forgot about makeup. Without a glance in the mirror to check appearances, she grabbed her purse and keys. “I owe it to him to see what he has to say,” she muttered as she reached for the door handle. At the very least.

Greg was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, foot propped up, roses held high against a bicep. “Ready?”

Shannon nodded. As ready as she could be. Face long and steps short, she led him to the elevator, heart fractured and hurting.

*

“You have got to be kidding me, Jennifer. Can’t you handle this?” Triston rubbed hard against his eyebrows, as the other hand pressed the cell phone against an ear.

“Triston, this is a big deal. If this company signs a contract, it could mean we all get rich.”

He slumped on the bed and hung his head. “Not rich, Jenn, but I know, I know. I just don’t want to leave right now.”

“You followed my advice then, and went after her?”

He sighed. “She needs me here, there’
s so much going on.”

Silence drifted across the line for a minute. “I’m sorry, Triston. They want to meet the owner, and you know you’ve got to handle this. You’ve never left the company hanging before, you’ve built it with your own hands. You can’t shirk this. Besides, it’s right there in New York. You won’t be gone but a day or so. She can live without you for that long, can’t she?”

“Nice, Jenn. Yes, of course, and I know you’re right.” He sighed. Real life had found him, he couldn’t ignore it. “Okay, I’ll be there. When does the CEO want to meet? And what’s his name?”

“Not his, hers. Veronica Hemrick. And she’s not the CEO, but close assistant. The meeting is tomorrow at eight in the morning.”

Triston felt his blood chill as lifted his head, forehead crinkled. “Say again. What’s the name?”

“You’ve really got it bad, don’t you? Veronica Hemrick.” She drew out each syllable like he was a moron. “Write it down or something.”

His jaw tightened as a hand brushed over the stubble along his jawline. “Veronica Hemrick.”

Another silence and then, “Triston, whatever your problem is, get over it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” His finger punched at the end icon without waiting for a response. Veronica. Where did the cat drag her in from?

“Nothing like a bit of déjà vu.” He stood and walked out to the living room. Now
to explain this one to Shannon.

*

With head resting in her palms, eyes closed, Shannon fought to ignore Greg’s eyes boring into her as he silently gauged the reaction. The least of her concerns. Thoughts raced, and clouds darkened her heart. A year ago, six months ago, even two weeks ago, the answer to a myriad of prayers would’ve been staring at her, ready and willing for her to grab the reins and ride the rest of the journey alongside her husband during the final stages of recovery. With a heart breaking, now it was remedying the scars still fresh with the blood a flood of tears cut into her. Everything she had tried to hold to, all the hope of a newly freshened love, came crashing down. She had failed; failed Greg, failed herself, even failed Triston.

Slowly she lifted her head, looking past the vase of two dozen fully bloomed roses, to her husband. “So, run this by me again, Greg. You, remember, everything now?”

He shook his head while a grin played on his lips. “No, not everything. But a lot. I remember you’re my wife, that you’ve been there for me, standing by me all this time. I don’t know how much time has passed, but I know I haven’t treated you near well enough.” Shannon dropped her eyes as he continued. “Uh, I talked to Lauren, and she told me of the affair she and I had. I’m so sorry, Shannon. I didn’t realize. Please forgive me.”

A rush of air whistled through her flaring nostrils. “I don’t know what to say, Greg. I was preparing to file for divorce. I don’t know if I can go backwards now.”

He rushed forward in his chair, face desperate. “Please don’t throw us away. If I could take it all back, I would. But all I can do is ask for a second chance. Allow me that, I promise I won’t disappoint.”

Drawing in a deep breath, she stood and made her way to the window, tears streaking her face. “I don’t know Greg. I have to think about this. You ha
ve to give me some time, okay?”

She listened as footsteps narrowing the gap between them, and cringed as Greg’s hands wrapped around the very bruises he left a day ago. Still sore. Still angry. Still remembering. They shouted at her heart at
the memory, and she shuddered.

“I can give you that. Is it okay, while you’re taking the time, that I attempt to prove my sincerity?”

She shook her head. “Yes. No.” She shrugged out of his grasp and turned with saddened eyes. “I don’t know right now, Greg. Can you please go now? Leave me alone to think?”

His jaw set firm. “Of course.” He narrowed his eyes, a cold wave washing over Shannon’s being, something there frightening her. “I guess you know where to find me.”

She nodded and watched as he slid out of the office, then retreated to her desk. Yanking the hair tie from constricted tresses, she laid her head down, hair fanning around her.

The heart whispered Triston’s name with each beat, each letter punching at her g
ut until nausea swept over her.

A finger rubbed the spot where the wedding ring should be. She’d removed it the night before after Triston left, and, as she straightened, she realized the gold metal circle remained upstairs on the coffee table. She’d taken it off because of love for another man, and not her husband. Something inside seared her flesh. Her betrayal was as complete as Greg’s, and he was now asking forgiveness
.

She should be doing the same.

Sweeping away the tears, she stood, disciplining the nerves still crying out for Triston’s touch. “I can’t do that. I have a responsibility to this marriage.” The whispered words sliced through the betraying thoughts like a chainsaw, and her heart dropped, defeated. She closed her eyes, rubbing them with two fingers as she waited for the pain to pass.

It didn’t.