“Hey,” she said, trying to sound normal. “How’s Boston?”
“Exhausting. These meetings are killing me.” He sounded tired. And something else—guilty, maybe? “How are you? What did you do last night?”
Last night, when she’d been in another man’s bed. Last night, when she’d discovered what it felt like to be wanted.
“Nothing much,” Elena lied smoothly. “Watched a movie. Went to bed early.”
“Good. You should rest. You’ve seemed stressed lately.”
Stressed. That was one word for it.
“Marcus,” Elena heard herself say. “Do you love me?”
Silence on the other end. Long enough that Elena’s heart started to pound.
“Of course I do,” Marcus said finally. But his voice was flat, automatic. The answer you give because it’s expected, not because it’s true. “Why would you ask that?”
“Just wondering.”
