Never Without Hope (Sacred Vows Book 1) (3 page)

The bummer was I didn
’t know the cultural stuff that well. My friend, Maria, who had given me some insight into European culture for book one, was too busy with her new job to help me much these days. Since the meat of the romance pertained to the hero’s culture, I really needed someone familiar with Italian traditions to help me with the details.

“
So what you write now? You sell any books yet?” He stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. Today he wore the same bomber jacket he wore on the plane, and smelled like a Wilson’s Leather store. Sometimes I shopped there just to inhale that unique scent.

“
Actually, I got a call from my agent the other day. She said the publisher I met with in L.A. wants to offer me a contract. She’s negotiating with them, so I don’t know what will happen yet. But she’s a great agent. I even started another book. In fact, I’m almost halfway done with it.” I grinned. “The hero is an Italian guy named Tony.”

He stopped walking and turned toward me. His expression grew thoughtful.
“You serious, not joking me?”

“
Yep. I told you I’d use your eyes. Why are you surprised?”

His grin widened.
“Not surprised. Is very nice. Thank you for making special story. I would like to read your new book.”

“
It’s called, ‘A Slice of the Good Life’. The hero is a pastry chef and is very good at making pies. They’re world famous. Get it, a slice? For a pie slice?”

Nodding briefly, he started walking again. We entered the sliding doors of the hospital.
“You will send me story to read?”

“
Yeah, in fact, why don’t you just delete the chapter I already sent and read the new one. Okay?”

“
Sure. You need more help with Italian words and phrases?”

“
I hadn’t thought about that. I was thinking more about food Italians eat, but I guess it would make the story better, huh?”

“
Yes, always much better. Italian is language of lovers.” His voice deepened and he gave me the cutest smile as he peered at me from the corner of his eye.

“
Hmmm…I’ve heard that, but I always thought it was French… You know, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you how old you were.” I hesitated. Did I really need that info?

“
My birthday last month. I turn twenty-eight. How many years old are you?”

We arrived at the door to the radiology office where they had my films and I paused before going inside.

“Me? I’m thirty-six.” I smiled inwardly.

He stopped before opening the door and touched my arm.
“You thirty-six?”

“
Yeah, I’m often told that I look like I’m still in my twenties.”

“
Amazing. I can’t believe you eight years older than my age.”

I slapped his bicep.
“Don’t rub it in. I’m not excited about being over the thirty-five mark as it is.”

“
You look very much younger. Very beautiful. I not believe you older than me.”

My cheeks warmed. I never blush. Never.
“Uh, thanks, I guess.”

He opened the door for me and didn
’t say anything while I waited for them to find my CT scan records.

As we left, he held the door open and repeated,
“You look young for age. Very young is good.”

I didn
’t reply. While used to being complimented often, his voice held a tinge of awe in it and it made me a tad nervous. But I liked it.

After all, what woman wouldn
’t want to be told that she looked younger than she really was?

“
My wife, she is my age and looks more old than you.” He scanned the length of me briefly. “She gained much weight after baby. You look
so
great. Perfect.”

I couldn
’t help but smile. I knew what he meant. What woman wouldn’t love a compliment like that?

We crossed the street and arrived at the door to the doctor
’s office. I needed to meet with the doc again and was pretty much done with chatting. My head hadn’t stopped hurting, and the bright sunshine hadn’t helped at all. Tony stood by the door and stuffed his hands in his pockets. He acted like a nervous teenager.

“
I gotta go back inside. It was nice seeing you again. I’ll send some more chapters.” I waved and started to turn when I saw him move.

He removed his hands from his coat pockets and held them out in a friendly gesture, inviting a hug. On impulse I gave him one, but he refused to release me at first.

Hey, I hugged all my friends at church. No big deal, right? Still, I pulled away, uncomfortable with my body’s response to his spontaneous affection.

My friends never squeezed me with such enthusiasm, not like Tony had. My stomach tingled as he released me, then gazed with intensity, a questioning expression in his eyes.

I couldn’t help inhaling the faint trace of his spicy cologne when he’d held me. He smelled wonderful, of course. “Talk to you later?”

He grinned shyly and said,
“I would still like to eat lunch sometime with you.”

“
I really don’t know when I can do that. I’m always working. But I’ll see.”

“
Is great you see. I call you later.” He turned and walked to his car, his head tipped down, his hands fisted inside his pockets.

I exhaled, wondering what he was thinking about me now. Hoping he
’d hear my request before he shut the door, I hollered, “Just e-mail me, okay?”

Tony never looked back at me so I don
’t know if he heard my request.

What to do? Shaking my head to eradicate my wayward thoughts, I opened the door. If I
’d only discouraged him at that point. I honestly never thought anything would happen.

But something did.

Chapte
r 2

Tony called me for the second time in one week. He was excited about my new book! Heck, I was excited about him being excited about it! The only one who didn’t share our enthusiasm was my husband. He didn’t get excited about much of anything these days.

In fact, within the last six months I could count on one hand the number of times he kissed me, I mean
really
kissed me. Not to mention sex.  If it was a good month he might even try to make love to me, but that hadn’t happened in nearly five months. I’d actually counted them.

Sure, we
’d do other things once in awhile, but not much. The whole thing was depressing, actually. I’d talked to my husband about seeing a doctor. I was sure something was wrong for him to have so much trouble in that area of our marriage, but I also kept reassuring him that it was okay. None of that mattered.

I don
’t think James believed me because even with my reassurance, he kept pulling away from me. Sometimes he even slept in the other room, then blamed me for being on the computer so much.
Well at least my online friends give me some attention
! I wanted to yell at him, but instead I just burned with anger.

And my hormones had started raging. Ridiculously so. Maybe from lack of contact. I don
’t know the reason, but it was really starting to bother me.

I called my girlfriend Jenna, one of my few friends who didn
’t know my family, figuring anonymity was better. We had never met in person, but just knew each other online. She was ten years older, so I thought she could help me understand what was going on with my body and in my marriage.

To summarize, she
’d said it was pretty normal for men to have trouble that way as they got older. My husband had just turned forty-nine. That didn’t seem all that old to me. Our age difference didn’t seem to matter when we’d married. I found it very strange and unexpected that his interest in me sexually had taken such a sharp nosedive since my trip to L.A. I knew plenty of women whose husbands were older than mine was and they didn’t have any trouble in bed.

Know what Jenna said about my problem? She said when she was my age all she could think about was sleeping with her husband. In fact, it got so bad when he was out of town and working late that she
’d gotten lonely and as a result became emotionally involved with a man online. Things deteriorated quickly and they started talking about having sex. Thankfully it ended before anything actually happened, and her husband had forgiven her for it.

And I
’d thought I’d messed up just by thinking about it! Whew. What a relief to know the raging hormone thing was biological. But it was still scaring me. I honestly thought about sex all the time. Whenever anything touched my body, my breasts, any part of me, I got excited. Maybe the fact that I never got any touches at home had something to do with my preoccupation with sex.

I didn
’t know much except that I was frustrated. Big time.

I liked the intense feelings and hated them at the same time.

Could be from mood swings, or some weird peri-menopausal thing, according to what I’d read on the Internet. I always get very funky this time of year even though I take medication for seasonal affective disorder, or SAD. The blues just made me more emotionally needy. I hated that, but it was true. I probably needed a med adjustment, but I didn’t like taking medication, so I left things alone, hoping they would just go away. Stupid, I know.

The bottom line was my husband wasn
’t getting excited about me in the marital way. That hurt my feelings. I mean, really hurt them. I even bared my soul a few times and told him how I felt. He just got angry.

Sure, I understood how humiliating it could be for a guy, so while I felt bad for him, I started to resent the fact that he wasn
’t willing to fix it. I even told him a few times that every man in town was starting to look really hot to me. I was serious! And you know what he did? He just blew off my comments and stormed off to bed.

Frustrated and with tears in my eyes, I followed him and let loose everything I
’d been stuffing for months. “Why don’t you want me anymore? I can’t remember the last time you took pleasure in me. Are you depressed or something? Help me understand!”

“
It’s not you, Babe. It’s me. You’re very beautiful. I’m just half a man now. I don’t know why you want to stay married to an old guy like me.”

I considered saying,
“Because you’re the only man I have you knucklehead,” but I refrained from insulting him. Instead, I sobbed with my face in my hands.

He pulled me against his chest and patted my hair.
“I’m sorry. I know the Bible says to delight in your wife.” He pushed me away from him so he could look into my eyes. “I’ll satisfy you tonight because the Scriptures say I should…and because I love you.”

Was that supposed to make me feel better? That the Scriptures recommended sleeping with your wife so he was doing his husbandly duty? His statement stung, but frankly my body hummed in response to his suggestion.

Finally, a night when I could get some of my intense urges satisfied. And it was heavenly...until my husband grew so frustrated that he stopped. Then he rolled over and went to sleep. Within minutes he was literally snoring.

Never before had our bed seemed so cold. And lonely.

My body wept, as he’d left me unsatisfied as well.

The next morning I called my friend Jenna and told her what had happened.

“No way! He said that?” Her astonishment really hit home. It was awful what he’d said to me. I knew it, and her surprised tone confirmed that for me.

“
Yeah. I just don’t know what to do.” When I stopped crying, I pulled out the Bible and read to her the verse the Lord had showed me that morning during my devotions. “I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to have some serious trials facing me this year. I need to be bathed in prayer.”

“
You’ve got it, hon. I pray for you every day.” Jenna’s throat sounded tight. I sure did love that gal. She understood, and she didn’t judge me for my pain.

So I decided to disclose something risky.
“You know that guy Tony I told you I met at the airport last winter?”

“
Umm…hmmm.”

“
He’s been calling me and complimenting me. And you know what? I like it.”

“
That’s some dangerous ground, girlfriend.” I heard the concern in her tone. 

But she was right. I was playing with fire and I knew it. Yet, at least Tony knew how to make me feel beautiful. I hadn
’t seen him since the day at the doctor’s office, but I was seriously considering meeting with him in person. At least he showed an interest in me as a woman.

“
I know it can be dangerous. But I’m not like that. I’m just going to meet him to give him the rough draft of my latest book. He e-mailed me earlier and said it was too hard to read the whole story online. He wants to meet me so he can pick up the book and read it at work on breaks. I really need to get his feedback soon. It’s taking too long to wrap up through e-mails.”

“
I suppose if you have to meet him you could take your son with you.”

“
That’s a great idea! When I call Tony later, I’ll tell him I can meet him but I’ll bring my son with me to keep it safe.”

“
You’ve been calling him on the phone?” She sounded worried. And she should be. So why wasn’t I concerned?

“
Just for the last week or so. No big deal. But I do love his accent. It’s so hot.” I giggled, and to my surprise, my friend giggled with me.

“
I can appreciate that. But you better be careful.”

Jenna offered to pray for me
, and I accepted. When we hung up, I sat on the porch swing. I thought about how scary meeting him again would be for me, especially with my raging hormones and all. Maybe I’d see if he wanted to kiss me. That wouldn’t be a big deal. I loved kissing, and frankly I missed kissing my husband. A lot.

The last time I
’d spoken with Tony he’d mentioned that he loved kissing, too, but his wife had never been “into” kissing. I’d heard the longing in his voice and wanted to help make him feel better.

Oh, what was I thinking? That could lead to more, and I didn
’t want to risk it. Or did I? And what would it cost me for a moment of pleasure? My self-respect, my faith, maybe even my marriage. I shuddered when I thought of all the possible ramifications and made my mind up to keep things kosher. I had to.

Later that week Tony called and said he could meet me on his way home from the store. He rarely did errands, so I had to meet him quickly or his wife would wonder where he was for so long. I thought his comment strange, but rather than pondering the meaning I headed for my purse and snatched up my notebook and keys.

“Where’re you going this time of night?” My husband asked with a frown.

“
I just need to meet someone a few miles up the road and give them my book to proofread. I’ll be right back.” Praying my husband wouldn’t be suspect, I sighed with relief when he nodded.

“
Jimmy, go with your mother to drop off her book, okay, Son?” My husband went back to watching TV. I wished he’d volunteer to go with me, but I knew better than to interrupt him while he watched the news.

My precious just-turned-eleven-year-old son grinned and grabbed my hand. He loved staying up late on Friday nights, so this just gave him another excuse to avoid bedtime.
“Sure, Dad. I’ll take care of Mom.”

Sheesh, talk about guilt-inducing statements. My little boy was becoming a man and said he wanted to take care of me. My chest tightened when I thought about my slight deception. But I
’d be okay, because my son would be with me. And technically I hadn’t lied. I just didn’t mention the friend was a guy. It was better that way. Why stir the pot and give my husband another reason to be irritated with me?

Jimmy grabbed his Gameboy with his free hand and slid it into his pocket.
“Ready, Mom?”

Would I ever be ready to deal with this? No. But I ignored that thought.

Hopping into our SUV, I backed out of the driveway and headed down the dark road to meet Tony. My hands grew sweaty as I clutched the wheel.

Jimmy was oblivious to my distress. He pulled earphones out of his pocket and popped them into his ears as he played his newest game.

I saw the fog lights on Tony’s truck and pulled over. Tapping Jimmy on the shoulder, I leaned toward him and said, “Be right back.”

Jimmy nodded and went back to his game.

Tony smiled and walked toward me as if he wanted a hug. Before he got close enough to invade my personal space, I nodded toward my SUV. “My son is in there.”

Stepping back, Tony frowned, like he was disappointed.  I suppose I was, too. Disappointed, yet very relieved. The pressure was off, and I appreciated that.

I handed him my notebook. He took it from me and peered deep into my eyes. His penetrating stare made my heart flutter. I knew without words that he wanted to get closer to me, but held back. The notion both thrilled and scared me to death.

“
Let me know what you think,” I said as I stepped back. Just a few more inches to safety. Just a few more…

“
I call you later.” Tony dipped his head and strutted toward his car. Opening the door, he tossed my book on the seat and climbed inside without looking back.

Stunned by his gruffness, I stared as he drove away. A minute later I blinked and shook off the worries now entering my brain. Worries I had no business having. So what if his feelings were hurt? We were both married. I had to remember that.

My son peered at me when I entered my vehicle. “You okay, Mom?”

“
Sure. Why’d you ask?” Ruffling my bangs with my hand, I sighed.

“
I don’t know. You seem nervous or something.” He paused another moment, then resumed his game.

“
I’m fine.” Though not exactly true, I wished it were so. That counted, right?

As I drove back home
, my mind raced with thoughts of Tony. Jimmy’s hand touched my arm. “Who’d you give your notebook to?”

“
A friend.” With a sigh, I closed my eyes for a moment and forced myself to reconcile my thoughts. He was a friend. Not more than that. Never would be. No matter how much my thoughts wanted to stray. But stray they did.

And my body wasn
’t listening. Drat.

*****

A week later Tony called again. “Your story is very good. I would like to see you and talk more about food and words to make story rich with my culture. Can we do that?”

I swallowed hard. How did he know my thoughts had strayed to him often over the past week? Yes,
really
strayed. That’s the unfortunate truth. And if I didn’t watch it, more than my mind would wander.