Fractured (4 page)

When she walked through the door, she found Hunter sitting on the sofa. Just sitting there with his head on his knees. No newspaper or book or magazine. She glanced at the clock and saw that it was well after lunch. She wondered if he had arrived home and been sitting there like a lunatic waiting for her to return.

For some inexplicable reason, this made her angry. She reached out and purposely tossed her keys on the counter. She knew it bugged the shit out of him when she wouldn't put them in the small silver bowl by the door.

To his credit, Hunter winced but he didn't say anything. She couldn't read his expression. His face was remarkably calm and passive.

Crap! Had he really been sitting here this whole time? Maybe she shouldn't have stopped on the way for that croissant. She hadn't even thought about bringing something back for Hunter.

With a twinge of guilt, she realized that Hunter would not have forgotten her. If anything, he would have called to see what she might like. Of course, she hadn't been gone that long, had she? She was glad that she had put the schedule and other information from the art studio in her purse.

After a moment, she walked forward, picked up her keys, and placed them gently in the silver bowl. Purposely antagonizing Hunter was mean spirited and would only make her look childish as well.
Or maybe you feel a little guilty?
Amber squashed the little voice and shoved it to the back of her mind.

Hunter still hadn't said anything. She thought that this might be a world record for him. Was he waiting for her to start? What the hell was she supposed to say?

Unexpectedly, she thought of a time when she was driving on the highway in her old beat up car. A small pebble had snapped up from the road and hit her windshield. The rock had left a tiny hole that she had been able to ignore for a little while. But then a small line started to form around the pock mark. The repair guy had explained that if she had waited much longer, the entire window would have eventually fractured.

That was how she was feeling right now. She knew that she and Hunter could smooth over today, but that small line was already starting to form in the relationship. Could Hunter sense that as well? Was that why he looked so forlorn? As though he suspected the flaw between them? Was it something that could be fixed?

“Do you mind if I change first?” she asked.

Hunter shook his head gently.

As she walked by, she could have sworn she heard his stomach growl. She quickened her pace. She was starting to get a little worried about Hunter. The control freak didn't just make sure that other people ate. She had never known him to skip a meal before. Ever.

In the bedroom, she quickly slipped out of her failed spy clothes and into a soft pair of jeans and a long sleeved tee shirt. The room was a bit chilly so she added a thick pair of socks. Then she padded back into the living room.

A fire would have felt nice, but there was no way she was going to suggest one. She suddenly felt like crying. As much as she felt that she and Hunter were ill-matched, she felt nauseated thinking of splitting up. Even if she was the one to initiate it.

She sat next to Hunter, feeling the huge space between them, both physical and emotionally. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to speak.

“I'm sorry that I almost screwed everything up today,” she said softly. “And I shouldn't have yelled at you. At least not then. I guess I was just caught up in my own drama.”

Hunter turned to face her. He looked defeated.

“This isn't just about today, is it?”

Amber sighed, realizing he was right. Something had snapped today. Maybe even before today.

“No. I suppose not.”

“When
did
you get the wig?”

Amber couldn't look him in the eyes.

“A few days ago,” she whispered.

Hunter nodded silently and lowered his head. With his elbows balanced on his knees, he clasped his head in both hands.

Amber suddenly felt as though she had cheated on him. She had told herself that she was only avoiding a fight. But her secret was another wedge between them.

“What do you want to do?” he asked, his voice low and muffled.

Amber blinked back tears.

“I love you, Hunter. I just don't know if I can live with your control freak nature. Maybe we should take a little breather. I need some time to think.”

Hunter sat up and Amber was shocked to see that his eyes were glistening. Was he actually crying? Then he blinked hard and shook his head.

“I love you too, Amber,” he said, his voice shaky.

“This doesn't have to be the end,” Amber said quickly. “This will be good for both of us.”

“Sure,” Hunter said, not sounding convinced. He stood quickly.

“I thought maybe that was what you wanted.” He walked over to a closet and opened it up.

“Just in case, I packed my bag while you were out.”

Amber felt like she had been struck in the chest.

“Oh! I didn't mean . . .”

Bloody Hell! She couldn't believe he had already packed a bag. Where was he going? For that matter, where the hell was she supposed to go? She couldn't expect to stay here at his expense.

“Yes, I want you to stay here,” Hunter said, as though he had already anticipated what she was going to say. “I'll stay with my parents until . . . well, until you decide what you want to do.”

Amber gaped at him. This was more generous than she could have imagined. After all, she was the one asking for a break.

“This has nothing to do with your work at the office,” he said firmly. “My mom would kill me if I messed that up. I know she loves working with you. The car will pick you up every day.”

Amber tried to object. “That's nice of you to offer, but . . .”

Hunter cut her off before she could continue.

“You already hate me so I'm just going to go ahead and pull another control freak move on you. The driver has already been paid in advance.”

Hunter was now moving through the room swiftly, grabbing his phone, his briefcase, and the suitcase. He gave her one last look before his mouth quivered. He turned away from her, but not before one tear slid down his cheek.

And then he opened the door and slipped through without another glance back.

As soon as the door shut, Amber found that she couldn't breathe. She slid off the sofa and onto the soft carpet, crumpling into a little ball as she started to weep. If this was the right thing to do, why did it hurt so badly? All of her anger toward Hunter was gone, replaced by a numbness and pain.

To be honest, she was more than a little stunned. Was this part of her punishment for reacting quickly and not thinking things through?  Apparently, she had given Hunter plenty of thinking time while she had been off avoiding him in the art gallery. Why had she gone today? Had she subconsciously punished Hunter by making him cool his heels?

Of course he would have come straight here, angry or not. Control freak Hunter didn't deviate from the norm. Why had she done this? Even now, she wanted to curl up against his chest and have Hunter comfort her.

She was sobbing so hard that her nose was oozing. She stumbled to the bathroom for tissues, trying not to look at the bed. She grabbed a pillow and a blanket, quickly shutting the bedroom door behind her. She plopped onto the couch, finally spent from crying. Curling up, she fell into a fitful sleep.

Several hours later, she woke to knocking on her door. She got to her feet groggily and looked through the peep hole, recognizing one of the bellhops. He was carrying a food tray.

Amber opened the door.

“I'm sorry,” she said in French. “I didn't order anything.”

The bellhop shrugged and fired off a rapid reply in French. From what she could understand, Hunter had arranged for the food to be delivered.

Sighing, Amber stepped back and allowed him to enter. She was hungry, after all, and the food would be thrown away if she sent it back. She asked the bellhop to wait and reached for her purse. But he waved her away with a smile, telling her it was not necessary. At least that's what she thought he said.

After he left, Amber opened the tray and wanted to cry again. Hunter had chosen pizza, a bowl of fresh fruit, and croissants. All her favorites. All things that could go in the fridge and be eaten later if she wasn't hungry at the moment.

Damn! Why did he have to be so considerate? When she was with him, she had considered this sort of thing his being a control freak. But what was in it for him now? He knew he was risking making her angry. No, she told herself viciously. He just wanted to make sure that you had something decent to eat tonight. Just like he made sure that you had a place to live and transportation to work every day.

Groaning, she pushed those thoughts out of her head. She was about to convince herself that she was the problem. Finding the remote for the television, she turned it on, watching a silly French sitcom while she ate. She wanted to be distracted.

But all she could think about was how Hunter loved to make up inappropriate translations for the characters on the show to make her laugh. Or the way that they snuggled together on the sofa. Or the sex. Why was she thinking of all the good times?

Amber willed herself to consume an entire slice of pizza and a small portion of fruit. The rest of the plate she stuck in the refrigerator for later. Cold pizza for breakfast might be nice. After putting everything away, she padded to the bathroom to take a shower.

Once she got in, though, she remembered one of the times when they had sex in the shower. Damn! Was everything going to serve up a reminder of what she was giving up? As the hot water blasted her, at least it washed away the hot tears streaming down her face.

When she returned to the living room, wearing baggy pajama bottoms and a tee shirt, she saw that she had a text from Hunter. She stared at it for several minutes, wondering whether to ignore it. Finally, she sat on the sofa and clutched the pillow against her stomach. There was no way that she was going to sleep alone in the bed. The phone buzzed again.

Sighing, she clicked on the icon.

Hunter:
I know I shouldn't be bothering you. But wanted to know if you are okay?

Amber clutched her phone, trying not to give in to the temptation to return a message. Honestly, she didn't know what to say. Everything was still so muddled in her head.

She put the phone on the coffee table. She flipped through the television channels. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She tapped out a brief message and clicked the send button.

Amber:
I'm okay. Still working through things. How is the situation at work?

The phone buzzed again.

Hunter:
Don't worry about work. It will all get sorted out. I know this isn't the right time to mention it, but you looked incredibly sexy in your spy gear.

Amber:
Definitely wrong time and place. But thank you.

Hunter
: No matter what you decide, I still love you. Have a good night sleep.

Amber felt her eyes tearing up. If she didn't stop this, she was going to be bawling like a baby again. She was already fighting the impulse to tell Hunter that she had made a huge mistake. All she could think of was having his arms wrapped around her.

Amber:
I still love you too. Go to bed. You have an early morning at the museum.

Staring at her reply, Amber was struck by how much it sounded like something Hunter would say. She pushed her phone away and tried to go to sleep. She had an early morning herself if she was going to be a professional and be ready when the car arrived.

But for at least an hour, she found herself staring at the phone, willing it to buzz one more time. This was crazy, she thought. She was the one who needed time alone. So why was she craving Hunter's attention? At long last, she drifted off to sleep again.

Amber

Amber slept harder than she expected. When she woke up, she realized that she would have to scramble to get ready in time. Fortunately, she had showered the night before and only needed to dress quickly. She grabbed a couple of slices of cold pizza and a bottle of water for the ride to work.

When she arrived, there was already a pile of work on her desk. She didn't have much time to think about Hunter as she plowed through. At lunch time, she purchased a  sandwich to bring back to her desk. She ate it while she worked. Finally, around three o'clock that afternoon, she gathered her things for a meeting with Mrs. Webb.

“How are you, dear?” The elegant woman greeted her with a warm hug.

"Hunter told us what happened,” she said, with a look of sympathy. “I hope you don't mind, but that's why I made sure you stayed busy this morning.”

Amber flushed. Of course Hunter's family knew. How else would he have explained having to stay at their house.

“I suppose it did help,” she admitted. “I certainly wasn't thinking about our problems.”

As they sat at the conference table, Mrs. Webb folded her hands on the table and leaned forward.

“I know it really isn't any of my business, dear,” she said frankly. “But Mr. Webb and I already love you as a daughter. Please let me know if there is anything we can do to help either of you.”

Amber blinked away tears. She adored Hunter's parents.

“I do love Hunter,” she confessed. “It's just that I feel confined with his controlling nature.”

Mrs. Webb nodded her head. “I can see how that could be quite stifling. No matter what Hunter's intentions are, he needs to learn to let you have your freedom.”

She smiled. “Even if it's a scary transition for him.”

“Thank you,” Amber said. “You and your family have been so kind and generous.”

“I hope that you'll stay in Paris while you decide what to do,” Mrs. Webb said. “I would be lost without your contributions to the Foundation."

“Of course,” Amber said, smiling. “I love the work that we're doing.”

“Fine, then let's go over those charts you were working on this morning. I'd like to start on a presentation for our top investors.”

Amber let herself be drawn in by the comfort of her job. Before she knew it, the day was complete and she heard employees start to leave their offices, calling to each other in the corridor.

“Oh, I've kept you much too long!” Mrs. Webb said, glancing up at the clock.

“It's quite all right,” Amber said, thinking of another long evening by herself.

“I tell you what,” Mrs. Webb said. “Why don't we grab dinner together? Just us girls? Mr. Webb is meeting Hunter at the gallery for business and an early dinner.”

“You shouldn't change your plans on my account,” Amber protested weakly.

“Nonsense! I was going to have leftovers and putter around the house until the boys got home. I'd much rather have dinner out with you.”

Amber was a bit worried that Mrs. Webb might spend the evening trying to get her to rethink her break from Hunter. Instead, Mrs. Webb kept her laughing by telling outrageous stories from her own past dating.

At the end of the evening, Amber felt remarkably relaxed and upbeat. She was sure that some of the love stories had been exaggerated, but the evening was surprisingly enjoyable.

“I almost didn't date him,” Mrs. Webb said, referencing her husband as she slathered butter on a slice of bread.

“Really? Why not?” Amber asked, her curiosity aroused.

“Oh, I thought he was secretly gay,” Mrs. Webb said, her face serious.

“You're putting me on,” Amber said, gaping.

“Nope. It's true.”

“But why? He doesn't look gay to me!” Amber paused. “Well, come to think of it, I don't know what being gay should look like.”

Mrs. Webb smiled. “It was his openly gay friend that made me wonder. Everyone could see that he had a huge crush on Mr. Webb.”

“And he didn't know about the crush. Your husband, I mean?”

Mrs. Webb put a hand to her chin as she thought.

“I don't think he had a clue. But he came from a very liberal family and would have been sympathetic.”

“So how did you end up going out with him?” Amber asked, poking at her salad with her fork.

“I got tired of refusing him,” Mrs. Webb said with a laugh. “We had a class together. Every day he would block the doorway and ask me out. Finally, I agreed to one date if he promised to stop pestering me.”

“That must have been some date,” Amber said, smiling.

“It was,” Mrs. Webb said, suddenly blushing. “Let's just say that I discovered that he was not gay.”

Amber laughed and the two continued a congenial meal together. She had such a lovely time that she was in a good frame of mind once she got back to the hotel.

After a shower, she donned her baggy pajama bottoms and relaxed on the sofa. She grabbed an empty notebook and began a decision tree.
You are such a nerd!
she told herself. She made two columns and started filling them in.

REASONS TO BREAK UP WITH HUNTER

He is a control freak.

He will always be a control freak.

It is wrong to make someone change.

Whoa! Where the hell did that last thought come from?

REASONS TO STAY WITH HUNTER

I fell in love with him just as he is.

He can't help his control freak nature.

His control freak nature is annoying but has saved my ass twice.

He makes me feel beautiful.

I love his gorgeous green eyes.

Sex is pretty incredible.

He overlooks my bad habits.

He feeds me even when I reject him.

He gave up this hotel room for me.

Suddenly, she stopped. This list wasn't helping at all! In fact, it was making her feel bad about herself. She crumpled it up and threw it in the corner. Okay, so much for the good mood. Now she was sobbing again.