Savage Lane Read Online Free Page B

iPhone in the other, Mark said, “Can we talk about this later? I just woke up, I can’t focus on this now.”
    “I don’t want to put this off,” Deb said.
    Mark went into the den/office across from the kitchen, and Deb heard the door shut. Deb knew he was going to text Karen, maybe complain about how bitchy Deb had acted in the car and how now she wanted to go away on a trip to Italy. Deb felt angry, violated— what right did that woman have to know anything ? She wanted to barge into the den/office, demand that he stop texting Karen, and to cut off all contact with her—that was what any wife who wasn’t cheating would do—but because of her own situation, she felt powerless.
    Deb went to the liquor cabinet. She reached for the handle, then paused, deciding she was probably better off without a second drink of the day at nine in the morning, and returned to the kitchen. Loading the dishwasher, she was proud of herself for resisting the drink; it proved that she wasn’t a total victim—she had the ability to take control when she wanted to. Like she’d walked away from the liquor cabinet, she could walk away from Owen Harrison. All she had to do was be strong, focus on the things she couldn’t afford to lose, and she could do it.
    On her way upstairs she saw that the door to Mark’s office was open, and he wasn’t there, and then she spotted him in the bedroom, sitting at the foot of the bed in gym shorts and a T-shirt, pulling his socks on. This was very new behavior. For years the only exercise he got was when he played golf, but lately he’d been going running almost every morning, and he’d even dusted off the weight bench in the basement and he’d been bench pressing.
    “Going for a run?” Deb asked, opening her dresser to pick out clothes for the day.
    “Yeah,” Mark said, not looking at her.
    She took out a pair of jeans, and a gray scoop neck T.
    With her back to him, she said, “You have to be careful, running along the road.”
    “I am,” he said.
    Instead of getting undressed in the bathroom before she showered, the way she did lately when Mark was in the room, she decided to get undressed in the bedroom. Why shouldn’t she get undressed in front of her husband?
    She took off her T-shirt and sweats and was topless in panties. Mark, tying his running shoes, was still at the edge of the bed, not facing her, but there was a mirror ahead of him, above the other dresser, and if he looked at it he would see her part-naked.
    “How far do you go?” Deb asked.
    She wanted Mark to look at her, to notice how sexy she was. And she was sexy. She went to the gym four days a week—okay, two days—and swam at the country club. Okay, maybe she wasn’t as in shape as exercise-obsessed Karen, but she looked damn good for forty-four years old. She weighed 127, only seven pounds more than when she’d gotten married.
    Mark finished tying his sneakers, and now he was standing, texting somebody, probably Karen. Deb felt pathetic, standing there topless, waiting for her aloof husband to finish texting his girlfriend so he could notice her, maybe give her a compliment.
    Deb was about to give up, just go into the bathroom, when Mark, still looking at his phone, said, “Oh not too far. Just a few miles.”
    “A few miles is great,” Deb said. “Maybe we should play tennis together sometime.”
    “Tennis?”
    Deb wasn’t sure he was paying attention.
    “Yeah, tennis,” she said. “We used to play all the time. I want to get back into it.”
    “Yeah, maybe.” He put the phone in his shorts’ pocket. “Have you seen my keys?”
    He glanced around the room, looking right past her, then zeroed in on the dresser, to the immediate left of her.
    “There they are,” he said, and he came up right next to her, not even noticing she was naked, and snatched the keys. Then, walking away toward the door he said, “Can you wake up Riley before you go? If you don’t she’ll sleep forever. I’ll drop her at