"Finally got the kids to bed," Tony announced as he pushed through the kitchen door. Angela was sitting there waiting for him with a cup of chamomile tea.
"Thank you, Tony. I simply didn't have it in me to do the whole bedtime routine with Jonathan tonight. I'm sorry." Angela stared into her tea while idly fiddling with the teacup handle.
"You don't need to apologize, Ang," he said. Tony sat beside her at the kitchen table. "Tonight was rough. I don't know how you managed not to lose it during dinner."
"Mother Wells is unbelievable! I'm shocked that she said those things to me, in front of the children no less. What was she thinking, Tony?"
Tony let out a deep breath. "I think that she really wants grandchildren. I also believe that she rules over her children with an iron fist. An Italian mother's got nothin' on her for guilt trips." He chuckled lightly and added, "Geoffrey's worse than any mammoni I've ever known."
"A what? What's a mammoni?"
"An Italian Mama's boy, Angela."
"Oh?" Angela blinked in surprise. "Really?"
"Well, you tell me. Who's deciding your future? Seems to me like Mother Wells is making decisions about your job, and your family planning. Geoff goes along with whatever she says. Does he even want kids for himself? I mean, he's not exactly a natural with Jonathan."
"I don't know. We haven't discussed having kids yet. I …I've been so focused on my agency that I haven't given it much thought. Geoffrey is busy trying to make partner before he's forty. He works sixty hour weeks," Angela explained.
"Doesn't leave much time for a baby, does it?" Tony took a sip from Angela's cup and peered over the rim at her. His dark eyes were honest and unflinching, and he decided that beating around the bush would be counterproductive to his goal. He had to stop Angela from marrying Geoffrey. She'd be miserable with him. And he'd be miserable without her.
"Guess not," she replied. "Though …."
"Though what?" Tony swallowed nervously.
"Though, I would like to have another child. And it's not like I'm getting any younger."
"Oh." The utter disappointment conveyed through that one syllable shot straight into Angela's heart.
"I … what I mean is that … if I do have another child, I don't want it to be because Mother Wells commands it, or because Geoffrey needs an heir, or because it's expected. I always wanted a second child, even with Michael." Angela looked pensive.
"What happened? How come you and Michael didn't have more?"
"Michael didn't want another one. Said it would interfere with his travelling, so he ensured that it would never happen again." Angela gritted her teeth and looked into Tony's warm eyes. "He secretly had a vasectomy, then told me about it after the fact."
"Whoa. I'm so sorry, Angela. That's …wow …that's …" he trailed off, not knowing how to end the sentence in any way that didn't involve cursing out Michael.
"That's a betrayal," she finished for him. "It was certainly one of the factors that led to our divorce."
Tony nodded at her sympathetically. "I can't even imagine what that must have been like," he said. He placed a warm hand on hers and gently squeezed her slim fingers. They sat still like that, he holding her hand, taking turns sipping out of the same cup. He had so much to tell her, so much to express but the fear of overstepping established boundaries terrified him. Conversely, the thought of losing Angela forever to a bad marriage terrified him more.
"Angela, how come you said yes to Geoffrey's proposal?"
Her eyes flew open. "It seemed like the right decision," she told him, unsure if she needed to be defensive or simply dead honest with him. She could never lie to him, not when he was eyeing her with such sincerity and concern.
"Seemed? As in past tense?"
"Um, well, you know, there was the list. Geoffrey and I are very compatible," she told him, bypassing his question completely.
"I remember your list," he said with a sigh. "But Ang, some decisions can't be made from a list. Remember what I told you about when I asked Marie to marry me? It was passion and love."
"But Tony, I'm not like that. You two were crazy kids in love. Geoffrey and I are professionals in our thirties, seeking companionship, mutual goals and interests."
"Mutual goals and interests? Seriously, Angela? Are you even in love with the guy? Would you be able to live without him?" Tony slammed their shared cup on the table and stood up. Angela jumped at the sudden brusque movements.
Tony walked over to the sink and leaned against the kitchen counter, facing out the window. He needed a moment to calm himself, because if he lost it now, he might lose Angela forever.
"I can't believe you'd ask me that," she told him. She got up and came to stand behind him. While shocked by Tony's question, the truth was that she knew the answer. She could live without Geoffrey. Easily, in fact. She looked at the strong back of the man in front of her, and knew for a fact that she wouldn't be able to live without him. The realization hit her like a live wire, and panic began to set in. The oxygen in the room was too thin, and she gasped.
Tony turned at the sound of distress, just in time to see Angela flee the kitchen. "Angela? Wait!" He caught up with her just as she was about to bolt up the stairs. Her face was flushed and she was breathing erratically.
"Hey, you okay?" he asked. He gently grasped her bicep and sought eye contact with her. She looked away, unable to bear the amount of truth mirrored back.
"I need to go to bed," she said, her voice high and shaky.
"Not like this," he said. "You're upset."
She shook her head and sniffled. With her free arm, she swiped at the tears that threatened to fall. Tony was still holding onto her right upper arm. His other hand was on her back, rubbing gently. "I'm sorry I upset you," he murmured into her ear. The timbre of his voice was low and raw with emotion. Angela shivered in response.
Tony could feel that she wanted to escape him and flee up the stairs, where she'd lock herself away in her bedroom and replay every word they'd spoken. He couldn't let her do that, not in her current state of agitation and denial. She'd cling to her damn list and justify a bad decision.
"What are you afraid of?" he asked her, knowing he had absolutely nothing to lose now, given that he was on the verge of losing everything.
"I'm not afraid," she whispered, the falsehood of her words ringing loudly despite the softness of her voice.
"You sure there, Ang?" Tony held her more tightly against himself, her back flush with his chest. He closed his eyes a moment and inhaled the sweet scent of her hair; vanilla and strawberries. He felt the soft cashmere of her dress, letting his hand caress the gentle slope of her left hip.
"What …what … are you doing?" she asked.
"Shhhhh," he hushed.
She was so close, lightly shuddering against him but not fighting to run up the stairs anymore. Tony swept her hair to the side and placed his mouth against her neck, merely making contact with her soft skin. He moved his lips to the tender spot behind her ear and placed a gentle kiss there. Angela began to tremble but she remained rooted to the floor and leaned her head back, exposing her throat. Tony trailed small kisses across her jaw and down her neck, emboldened by Angela's quiet acquiescence. His senses were heightened; he was too aware of the feel and scent of her. And now he was tasting her. He nipped and sucked her exposed neck, gently trailing his fingers down her throat.
Angela's knees were ready to give out. She leaned against Tony for support and felt his erection pressing into her backside. They both moaned at the contact …
A/N: Ok folks, I'm not being wicked but I do have to change the story's rating to M for the next chapter. So please adjust your settings and "follow" the story so you don't miss out. Oh and reviews are always appreciated.
