The Game You Played by Anni Taylor Page A

profusely for what she’d done when she saw the effect on Phoebe, but there’d been no way of fixing it.
    Phoebe started humming.
    Pain corkscrewed up from my stomach. I hadn’t seen Phoebe this happy, maybe ever. The back of my legs weakened, and I knelt to the floor. I couldn’t hold back the tears.
    She turned her head, confused, and then she stretched a hand out to me. At first I thought she was trying to comfort me. Leaning towards her I reached to hold her hand. But she immediately pulled hers away, closing it into a fist. Slowly, she opened her hand and studied her palm.
    She thought I’d given her something.
    Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her hand, as if to gain a better look at the mysterious object. Her fingers and lower lip trembled.
    What was she seeing?
    Whipping around, she looked at the train tracks again. Crying out, she stood and fled from the room, knocking hard into my shoulder.
    I followed. She was heading for the stairs. Terrified that she’d stumble and fall down the staircase, I raced up behind her and grasped her arms. “Phoebe . . . Phoebe . . .”
    At first, she struggled. Then the stiffness in her body gave way.
    Gently, I turned her around. She was awake now. Still a little dazed, but her eyes were focused. She touched my wet face, running her fingers from my temple to my jaw.
    She gripped my shoulders then and cried. As I held her close, she sounded so damned mournful, like those birds you heard in the small hours. But more than that, in the angles of her thin body, I felt a burning rage.
    “Babe,” I said softly, “are you okay? You were dreaming. I found you in Tommy’s room, playing with his train set. Were you dreaming about Tommy?” For a moment, I was envious. If I’d ever had any dreams of Tommy, I didn’t remember them.
    “I must have been. I don’t remember.” Moving back, she smiled, but the smile seemed forced.
    I led her back to our room and into bed. I wanted to protect her, to somehow make things better for her. Keeping her close, I rested my head on her chest. Maybe I needed comfort just as much as she did.
    “I’m worried about you,” I said gently. “When’s your next appointment with Dr Moran? Maybe you can see her sooner. I’ll take time off work to take you.”
    “I saw her just last week.”
    “You did?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You didn’t tell me.”
    In response, she wriggled down and kissed me. And she kept kissing me.
    That was unusual. It’d been a long time since Phoebe kissed me like that.
    She stopped kissing me to undress herself down to the skin.
    My breathing and heart rate rose.
    She kept kissing me, touching me.
    I responded.
    Sex had been very infrequent this year. I’d tried hard to understand, but sometimes it was difficult. I wasn’t in control of what my body wanted and needed to do. The year before, it had been her wanting more from me, and me backing off. The long hours at the office had left me trying to fire on one cylinder.
    Even in this strange, half-dazed state, Phoebe was beautiful.
    As her arousal grew, she closed her eyes.
    She was always totally removed from me when she reached that stage—it was never shared.
     
     

13.                  PHOEBE
     
    Thursday morning
     
    LUKE INSISTED ON STAYING HOME WITH me today. He didn’t dress for work.
    I didn’t want him here. I needed time alone to think.
    He brushed his teeth at the sink as I finished my shower. Tucking a towel around myself, I walked from the shower and kissed him on the cheek. “No, you need to go. I’m okay. I’ll call you if anything else happens.”
    Looking at my reflection in the mirror, he shook his head then bent to rinse out the toothpaste. “I’m not going.” He dabbed his mouth with a towel. “Phoebe, you really worried me when I found you like that in Tommy’s room.”
    “It was just a dream.”
    “I know, but this whole thing with the letters is really getting to you.”
    “Yeah, it is, and I didn’t sleep well. But