Keeping Score

Marilyn fished her car keys from her purse. “I’ll follow you home.”

Warrick pushed the door shut. “No, you won’t.”

Marilyn froze. “Why not?”

He turned his back to her and circled the hood of his car. “I’m not going home, Mary.”

“Why not?”

Warrick faced his wife. She was so close he could smell her jasmine scent carried on the cool breeze. “I was never worried about proving myself to the media. They could think whatever they’d like. But I never thought I’d have to prove myself to my wife.”

Marilyn’s gaze wavered but didn’t fall. “It’s not that I didn’t believe you. I didn’t know how she could have known about your tattoo.”

Warrick grunted. “It sounded as though you didn’t believe me. Have I ever given you a reason to distrust me?”

“Of course not.” Marilyn’s words came with satisfying speed. But were they only words?

“Then why didn’t you trust me this time?” Warrick genuinely wanted to know. Had Marilyn felt confused and uncertain because of the media pressure? Or were they growing apart?

Marilyn’s gaze swept the parking lot. Warrick’s regard remained squarely on her. His car alarm reset with a chirp.

She returned her attention to him. “Maybe I did have a little bit of doubt because I learned a few days ago that my father recently cheated on my mother.”

Warrick didn’t hesitate. “I’m not your father.”

Marilyn’s brown eyes darkened. “I know and I’m sorry, Rick.”

“So

am I.” He turned toward his car and deactivated the alarm.

Marilyn took his arm. “I was wrong to have ever doubted you, even for a second. How can I make it up to you?”

Warrick stared into her eyes for seconds that felt like an eternity. Hurting her was killing him. “I don’t know if you can. I needed for you to believe in me. I thought you did. But when I asked you to take a leap of faith in me, you wouldn’t.”

Marilyn’s hand fell away from him. “None of this would have happened if it weren’t for that damned photographer.”

“Maybe he did us a favor.”

She looked stricken. “How could you say that?”

“He’s helped us to realize that we don’t trust each other as much as we thought we did.”

Marilyn didn’t recognize the bitter man standing before her. “I think most spouses would have had some doubt in our situation.”

“But you aren’t most spouses. You’re my wife.” He cocked his head to the side. “When did you stop trusting me, Mary?”

“The media have caused a lot of upheaval in our lives.”

Warrick crossed his arms. “You’re hinting at my retirement again, aren’t you? I’ve never even considered asking you to give up your career when the late-night deliveries pulled you out of our bed or when evening labors interrupted our dinner.”

“That’s different.”

“Why? Because it’s your career?”

Frustration tore through her. “My job doesn’t inspire photographers to take pictures of us having sex.”

“You have a vision of a perfect life for yourself. Everything and everyone in its place.” He straightened away from his car. “Well, my life isn’t perfect. Does it still have a place in yours?”