EVE

THE ALARM IS GOING off in the shoe store. It’s blaring throughout the entire store, and it’s hard to believe that everyone in the mall can’t hear it.

Oh God, I never should’ve taken those shoes. What was I thinking? I already have enough shoes. I just bought a pair only two weeks ago. I got greedy. But I just wanted them so badly…

What is wrong with me? I’m sick. Nate is right—I have a problem.

There’s a security guard jogging toward the store. I don’t know what the policy is on prosecution of shoplifters, but this is not good. I don’t know how it will look for my job if I have a shoplifting charge against me. I could get fired.

What is Nate going to say about all this? He’s going to be so disappointed in me. I can’t even face him after all this.

I clutch my purse to my chest, the blood rushing in my ears. The clerk is also hurrying toward the exit, and it only vaguely registers that she pushes past me without giving me a second look.

That’s when something occurs to me. I have not yet gone through the exit. The only one who went through is the old woman who just bought a pair of shoes.

“I’m so sorry!” the clerk cries. “I totally forgot to take off the security strip on your shoes!” She flashes the security guard an apologetic look. “This was my bad. She paid for those shoes.”

The clerk leads the nonplussed elderly woman back to the cash register to disarm the security strip, while I stand in the corner of the store, trembling down to my core. I hadn’t realized there was a security strip in the shoes. If I had gone through the exit first, the alarm would have gone off, and the security guard would have found the stolen shoes in my purse.

I dodged a major bullet.

While the clerk is busy, I pull the shoes out of my purse and slip them back into place. I can’t believe I almost did that. I almost screwed up my entire life over a pair of shoes. How could I have done something so risky?

It takes all my focus to drive home without getting killed. My whole body feels like it’s buzzing, and not in a good way. I should never have attempted something so stupid. Just goes to show that I haven’t changed at all over the years. Sometimes I try to kid myself that I’m an adult now, but how can I be an adult when I still feel fifteen half the time?

When I get home, I’m relieved to find Nate’s car is in the driveway. I don’t have to sit at home and wonder when he’ll be back for a change. And when I get inside the house, I smell tomato sauce wafting from the kitchen. He’s even gotten dinner started.

I hang my purse on the coat rack like I always do and wander into the kitchen. Nate is standing in front of the stove, the sleeves of his blue dress shirt rolled up as he stirs the contents of a pot on the stove. I imagine an alternate reality where I had to tell Nate I was arrested for shoplifting. Thank God I didn’t go through with it.

Nate notices my presence in the kitchen, and he looks up with a smile for me. He is so incredibly handsome when he smiles. Even after all this time, I still think so. Who wouldn’t?

“I got dinner started,” he tells me. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” I say. “I’m glad you did. You’re so thoughtful.” I smile back at him, although I recognize my own smile doesn’t have as much impact as his does. “I have the best husband ever.”

He laughs and turns his attention back to his pot of tomato sauce. “I’m pleased you think so.”

Something stirs inside me. Maybe it’s all the adrenaline from almost getting caught stealing those expensive shoes, but suddenly, I want Nate. I want him right now, even though it’s not the first Saturday of the month.

I come up behind my husband, sliding my arms around his firm chest. I lower my lips onto the back of his neck. “Nate…”

He laughs again. “Eve, what are you doing? I’m trying to cook us a feast here.”

“I’ve been thinking about you all day.” My hands move south, even as his body stiffens. “Maybe you can take a break from cooking dinner…”

Gently, he disentangles himself from my embrace. I get a distinct jab of déjà vu. “Darling, I’m starving. Let’s have dinner first, okay?”

“Okay.” I don’t attempt to wrap my arms around him again, but I stay close, my hand on his shoulder. “After dinner then?”

“Right after devouring a big plate of ziti? That hardly sounds sexy.”

Of course. Yet another excuse. I’m not even surprised at this point. He leans in to kiss the tip of my nose. “Later tonight. I promise.”

“You promise?”

His laugh sounds hollow this time. “My God, you’re making it sound like I don’t want to make love to my own wife! It’s just been a long day, and I want to have some dinner and relax with a book, you know?”

And that will be his excuse later, when I reach for him tonight in bed. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. Tomorrow, okay, Eve? Perhaps there will even be a headache involved. There’s a point when it becomes humiliating to even ask, and he knows that. He’s counting on it.