Traded for Love by Michelle Hughes, Dahlia Salvatore Page B

meant more to her than I think even she knew. “He called the other day. He got promoted at the docks, and he's signed up for night classes,” she said brightly.
    “That's awesome news!”
    “Yeah, he also has this cute girlfriend. I think they're getting serious.” She sipped her water. “Speaking of lovers. How are you and Jack doing?” She always asked that question. It was as if she expected something to be going on.
    The waiter returned with my drinks and took our food orders. “Fine,” I answered, once he'd gone.
    “Are you really fine?” She locked eyes with me.
    “ Yes . ” I know I sounded more irate than usual.
    “Emily.” Her sharp tone brought me to attention. “You're drinking at lunch . You're pale. You're underweight. It doesn't matter if you tell me what's happening, just tell me what you're going to do about it.”
    My face sunk, my eyes falling shut. “Jack is just under a lot of pressure because of the campaign.”
    “I didn't ask about him. I asked about you. The fact that you're talking about him means that his behavior is impacting you in some way,” she reasoned.
    “Well, that's normal, isn't it? A husband's behavior is supposed to impact his wife,” I pointed out.
    “He should be taking care of you. You don't look well at all.” She sipped her water.
    “So, we get together for the first time in months and you say I look like crap and you accuse my husband of causing it?” I frowned.
    “No. Look, I'm sorry. I'm just worried about you.” She reached across the table and put her hand on mine. “I guess this campaign is taking a toll on you both. You must be helping him a lot, so that his dream can come true.”
    I stared as the ice bobbed around in my drink. I remembered what he'd made me do with J.B. “Yeah.”
    “Well, as long as you say things are fine, I believe you. We've spent way too long apart. We can't let this happen again. I promise, from now on, I'll be better about calling.” She grasped my hand. “And please, if the stress ever gets to you, pick up the phone. I love you way too much to go without hearing your voice for long.”
    She smiled in the genuine way she always did. There was very little about Kim that was not genuine. It was one of the things I loved most about her.

    I probably shouldn't have been as happy as I was to get out of the restaurant. Kim was sad to see me go, but since she'd blamed Jack for me looking “not well at all,” I'd been secretly frustrated with her.
    If I could have been honest with myself, and I seldom ever was, he was the cause of my stress. I was having trouble sleeping and eating, all because of my encounter with J.B. And what had followed. There was an ugly word attached to what he'd done to me in his office. I didn't want to use it, not even in my private thoughts, because it was confusing to call it that. I'd pledged myself to be his submissive slave, his slut, and weren't submissives supposed to take their punishment without protesting?
    I shed an unexpected tear, but before I could wipe it away, the wind off the East River whipped it into my hair. The sidewalk was full of people bustling around. Embarrassed that I'd allowed myself to succumb to strong emotions, I hustled down to the bookstore and stepped in.
    My eyes ached as I made for the bathroom. I stared at my face in the brass-framed mirror, determined to keep myself from breaking. My relationship with Jack existed that way because it was for the best—or at least that's what I'd convinced myself.
    Of course, lately it seemed like all of my old decisions were coming back to haunt me.
    I gathered my wits about me and went back into the high-ceilinged common area. Fleeing from my own emotions had kept me from admiring the splendor. The whole place was done in a modern industrial style, yet the furnishings were plush and comfortable. Above me was a second level full to the brim with stocked shelves.
    At the counter, the tattooed cashier—when not steeped in her