“Where was Beatrice?” I ask, my whole body shaking.
“I don’t know. She’s not my secretary.” I feel his warm breath against my cheek.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“Then tell me to go.”
I open my mouth, but the words are lost on me. If I really wanted to say it, I would have. So much is already broken: a short goodbye will be a chip in comparison.
“That’s all I needed to know,” he whispers just before his lips crash into mine. I’m still from the shock of him being here, from the feel of his skin on mine again. I thought I’d left him behind yesterday.
His fingers slip down, tangling in my hair. The desire I have for him can’t be blocked out any longer as I clasp my hands behind his neck to deepen the kiss. The man knows how to utilize his tongue better than anyone I’ve ever been with. It’s the way he gets me.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you left yesterday,” he mutters as he kisses down my neck. “Have you thought about me?”
I nod because I have. If I’m not thinking about Cole, I’m thinking about River. Even when I am thinking about Cole, sometimes it’s only to compare him to River. He won’t stay out of my mind.
While I’m lost in his kiss, his hands follow the line of my spine until they’re covering my ass. When I pulled on this black pencil skirt this morning, I didn’t have anyone in mind, but I’m not oblivious to how it accentuates everything from my waist to my calves. I hear the sound of the zipper. The fabric loosens from around my waist.
“I want to fuck you, Marley. I want you to remember the feel of me inside you for a long time.”
God. One more time, one last goodbye, and he’ll be out of my life forever. The craving may linger, but the addiction will consume me less over time. I’ll never forget, but I’ll think of him less.
“Not here,” I pant as I spin us around and walk back until my thighs hit against my desk. River slips his thumbs in the waist of my skirt, sliding it down my legs before setting me on the edge of the desk in nothing but my white silk camisole and black panties.
He lifts his T-shirt over his head and unfastens his jeans. When I lift my hips for him to remove my panties, he surprises me by ripping the thin cotton from my body. He pulls a condom from his pocket, and I watch as he opens the package and rolls it up his length. I moan just thinking about what it’s going to feel like the first time he pushes into me.
“Spread your legs, beautiful girl.” I do as he asks, his hands caressing the insides of my thighs.
“We have to be quiet,” I blurt, panicking.
He grins, slowly sinking into me. I moan louder. “It’s not me we have to worry about,” he reminds me. “Wrap your legs around me, sweet girl. I’m going to make this a goodbye to remember.”
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I breathe, wrapping my legs tightly around him as he thrusts into me hard.
“I could say goodbye for hours and still not be ready to leave you,” he whispers against my lips.
He pushes all the way in, pressing his mouth to mine to swallow my screams as the first orgasm rocks my body. I come down; holding his face in my hands, I kiss along his jawline until he speeds his pace and all I can think about is the way he fills me. “You ruined me, Marley. You fucking ruined me,” he groans, losing all control just as I fall over the edge for the second time.
I bite down on his shoulder as he buries his head in the crook of my neck. I want him to stay there—to stay inside me just like this. In a matter of minutes, he’s going to walk out that door, and I may never see him again. I know I can’t.
“River,” I whisper, holding back tears. “You need to go. If someone finds you…”
Slowly pulling out of me, he looks down at me with forlorn eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t ruin your perfect marriage.” Despondent. Disconnected. Distant. He’s ready for a true goodbye this time. I feel the same.
“Please go,” I say, quickly slipping off the desk to pull my skirt back up my legs. He slides the condom off and ties it before throwing it in the trash next to my desk. His eyes remain on the floor while he hurriedly pulls himself together.
“I never said my marriage was perfect.”
He looks up, eyes blazing. “It was good enough for you to run back to him.”
“It’s not like that.”
“Yes, it is. You knew it was over the minute you decided to get in my car Friday night, and now, you feel guilty so you’re trying to convince yourself I was nothing but a moment of weakness.” He pauses, his chest heaving. “I don’t know what I was to you, but I like you. If I were the type of guy who wanted the white picket fence, you’d be the type of woman I’d want to live behind it with. You deserve better, but any pain you feel from here on out is all on you.”
When he’s done, he starts toward the door, but I follow, grabbing his arm before he can unlock it. “Where are you going?”
“I have a club to open, and a few days that I need to forget.”
His words slap me across the face. I ease my grip on him, watching him walk out my door and out of our office suite. It’s only then that I see Cole standing next to Beatrice’s desk with his eyes locked on the same door River just walked out of.
FOR A FEW SECONDS, I stare at Cole staring at the door. It could’ve been longer than that, but I’m not sure. Time is frozen. Whether Cole knows or not, everything between us has changed. My secrets are seconds from being uprooted. That is, if they haven’t been already. Our marriage could potentially be over too.
I let Cole apologize yesterday when it should have been me. I made him into the guilty party when I’m the one who deserved the conviction. He hasn’t been the husband I need, but I didn’t do everything I could to give him a chance to fix it.
One look back, and Cole starts toward me, pulling me back into the office so he can close the door. When he finally lets go of me, I crumble to the ground next to one of my leather guest chairs. I just ruined any chance we had at saving us.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on here?” Cole asks, standing above me.
“I tried to tell you yesterday, but you didn’t want to hear it.”
“You might as well tell me now because the things I’m coming up with on my own are fucking horrible.” His voice may be quiet, but there’s a bite to it that stings me from the inside out. “Who was that?”
“River Holtz.” I close my eyes tightly.
He sighs. I can’t bring myself to glance up at him, but I imagine he’s scrubbing his hand over his face. That’s what he does when he thinks too hard. “What was he doing here? I thought his case was settled.”
“It is. But we’ve been talking.”
“What else, Marley? Cut the bullshit.”
I open my eyes. I deserve to see the pain my words will cause. “I slept with him.”
“What do you mean you slept with him?” The veins in his neck bulge as he waits for me to answer.
“I was done with you this weekend, Cole. I’d given you one more chance, and it only took you a few days to leave me again. What I did isn’t your fault, but I was so angry and frustrated. He was there.”
“So that makes it okay to fuck him?” he asks, throwing his arms in the air.
“No,” I cry, shaking my head. “It wasn’t okay. I should’ve talked to you before it got to this, but even that seemed impossible. You were too busy to hear me.”
He looks out the window, not bothering to look over at me. “What was he doing in your office just now?”
I turn my attention to the window, unable to answer.
“Shit!” he screams, pacing in front of me. “You fucked that bastard in your office while I was right outside, didn’t you? You couldn’t even let me to touch you last night or this morning, but you let him fuck you?”
I still can’t look. It sounds horrible coming from his mouth.
“Show me where he did it, Marley. Did you let him fuck you in a chair? Did he take you on the floor? Where the
fuck was it?” he screams, shoving a stack of papers from my desk.
I jump up, covering my face with my hands. In all the years I’ve known Cole, I’ve never been scared—not of him anyway.
His hands grip my forearms tightly, shaking me with his anger. “Talk to me, goddamnit!”
“I’m sorry, Cole,” I say, my voice so faint I’m not sure he even hears me. “I’m so sorry.”
Then out of nowhere, his lips are pressed so hard against mine, it hurts. My tears fall between us, and I taste a tiny hint of blood on my lip. He kisses me until my lips are numb enough to mask the pain.
As he pulls away, he can’t meet my eyes. “I need to get out of here.” He walks back until he hits the wall, running his fingers through his hair. “We’ll talk when I get back. I just can’t—I can’t even look at you right now.”
“I’m sorry.” I know I could say it over and over again, and it wouldn’t change a thing, but it’s all I have.
Without another word, he walks out. If I thought my life was screwed up before, it’s really fucking screwed up now. I sink back down to the floor, my legs too weak to hold me up. I listen as Cole walks down the hall to his office. Not even a minute later, he says something to Beatrice and slams the door as he walks out. I think it’s safe to bet the last of our marriage left with him.
“Are you okay?” Beatrice says as she steps into my office. She’s known me too long to ignore my hurt.
“Do I look okay?”
“What can I do to make it better?” She crouches in front of me, handing me a stack of Kleenex.
“You could turn back time.” A few split second decisions landed me in a world of trouble.
“I hate to tell you this, but if I had that ability, I’d look a whole lot younger.” She pats my leg, sitting beside me. “I saw this coming. I don’t know what happened in here today, but it’s been brewing for months. I’m sorry because you deserve better, but I’m not surprised.”
She’s right, but she’s so wrong.
“I did him wrong. Cole deserved better.”
“Do you want things to work out with him?”
My initial thought is yes, but my actions today say something completely different. River showed me a whole new brand of attention. Cole and I may have been able to make it with months of counseling and more time spent together, but I threw a wrench in that. Maybe there’s a reason we grew apart—maybe we’re just not meant to be together.
“I honestly don’t know,” I cry. “I need a few days to think.”
“Your calendar is clear for tomorrow. Do you want me to keep it that way? Maybe take the day off?”
I nod. One night of sleep, if I can even sleep, isn’t going to be enough to get me back in the condition to work. An associate attorney would have my ass in the courtroom.
“Okay. I’m going to give you some time. When you’re ready to leave, let me know, and I’ll help you out. Do you want me to call a car?”
“No. I’ll be fine to drive by the time I leave. Besides, I might have to make a detour for a couple bottles of wine.”
She shakes her head. “Wine isn’t going to solve your problems.”
“I know, but it’ll help me forget for a while.”
After twenty-four hours of self-loathing, I decide to join the girls for our weekly wine night. I’ve had enough of it to last the next month since I got home from work last night, but I’m not about to stand the girls up for a third week in a row.
I haven’t heard a word from Cole, which is driving me crazy. I’d just like to know he’s okay. And River, I wouldn’t dare reach out to him, but I wonder about him too.
Twenty-four hours of worrying, and I’m still in the same place. I still don’t know if I want to take my broken down marriage and put it in a box or try to put all the pieces back together. Time will tell, but tonight I need a glimpse at normal. It’s hard to remember what that even looks like.
As I walk into the bar, I inhale a deep breath. Our Tuesday nights are usually spent talking about our spouses and children, if we have them. Tonight will be a doozy.
Lucia spots me right away, saying my name out loud until I get the stares of the whole table. “We missed you!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around me. I actually showered this afternoon, slipping into a pair of skinny jeans and a bright blue camisole.
“Sorry, girls. I had a case that tied me up the past couple weeks.” I immediately regret the way the words come out. It just brings back another memory I’d rather suppress.
“I’m glad you could make it. Becca couldn’t, so it will just be the four of us,” Jenna says, patting the seat next to her.
“Where’s Becca?” I ask, setting my clutch on the table.
They all look at each other then back at me. “She found out she was pregnant last week, and she’s battling some nasty all-day sickness.”
I’m now officially the only one at the table without any kids. Wonderful. And by next Tuesday, I may be the only one without a husband. Maybe they have another wine group for childless, divorced women in their early thirties.
“How are things with you and Cole?” Lucia asks, lifting her wine glass to her lips.
Lies play in my head, but I’m too honest to open them up to these ladies for their viewing pleasure. “Not good. We had a fight before he went out of town yesterday. Honestly, I think we might be done.”
“What are you fighting about now?” Robyn pipes in for the first time.
“I don’t know that I’m ready to talk about it just yet. I’m still trying to sort shit out in my head.”
Lucia pours me a glass of red wine. We order it by the bottle, and we’re known to go through quite a few. “Drink and talk. I can tell you need it.”
I sip first, then take a couple bigger gulps. I’ve barely eaten the last two days so this shouldn’t take long before I don’t have a care in the world. “What else is new?” I ask, hoping they’ll drink enough to forget I mentioned my problems.
They all look at each other before Jenna breaks the silence. “Lucy got her first tooth. That’s really the most exciting thing that’s happened in my life this month.”
“Jake is home this week, and he’s driving me crazy. I don’t get how a couple can spend every night together and not kill each other,” Lucia answers. Her husband travels about eighty percent of the time. When they’re on, they’re on—some of the stories she’s told us about her sex life are sinful. But when they’re off, they get close to Cole and Marley territory.
“At least you’re getting laid when you get home tonight,” Robyn adds, throwing back the rest of her glass. Her husband follows a strict schedule. Sex is reserved for Wednesday and Saturday.
“Oh, I’m definitely getting it.” Lucia smiles, darting her tongue over her upper lip. She picks up the wine bottle and pours the rest in my glass. “Drink.”
After only one glass, I feel myself loosening up. There is a careful balance, though, because I don’t want to be that girl who cries in the middle of the bar. Alcohol and a break-up will do that to even the strongest of women.
“I cheated on Cole,” I blurt.
Three sets of eyes widen. Last week I wouldn’t go seven miles over the speed limit but look at me now.
“Cole has been gone a lot. I was lonely, and the wrong guy walked into my life at just the right time. The affair is over. Cole knows, but I have no idea where my marriage stands because he’s out of town again. That’s all I want to say about it because quite honestly, this is the first hour I haven’t spent crying since he left yesterday.”
Still silence. If anything good comes from this, they’ll see me as less predictable and more of a rule breaker.
“Who was the guy?” Lucia asks, leaning her elbows on the table.
I cringe inwardly. “A client, but it was only after his case was over.”
“Wow,” Robyn mouths.
“How did Cole find out?” Jenna asks.
“He watched him leave my office, and put two and two together w
hen he saw the state I was in. It wasn’t pretty,” I admit, remembering the moment I realized Cole knew. The look in his eyes will haunt me for a long time.
“When does he get back?” Jenna again. Out of everyone in the group, she’s most like me. Neither of us is as loud as Lucia or as planned as Robyn. We stay pretty low key at these things.
“Tomorrow I think. I guess I don’t know for sure now.”
“What’s meant to be will be,” Lucia reminds us all. It’s the motto we’ve adopted since we became friends while living in the same apartment complex years ago.
I down glass after glass of the red stuff, and then climb into a waiting cab hours later. What will be will be, I remind myself.
MY HEAD POUNDS WHEN I open my eyes. I can’t recall how many glasses I drank last night, but it was at least enough to keep a winery in business for another day.
I carefully roll out of bed, thankful that the sun hasn’t shown itself through the blinds just yet.
After downing the maximum dose of ibuprofen, I climb into the shower, using the bench twice when standing becomes too much. To save time and energy, I tie my hair up, apply a light layer of make-up and slip into a green and white patterned shift dress that doesn’t require ironing. Not a look I’d wear into court, but it works for a day in the office.
Since I was too far gone to fill and program my coffee pot last night, I elect for a rare stop at Starbucks, and I step into the office just in time to hold the door open for the mailman.
“You look like you’re feeling a little better this morning,” Beatrice remarks as I set down my coffee to thumb through the mail.
“I was waiting for you to tell me I look like shit.”
She opens her mouth then smiles before continuing, “You don’t look any different than any other Wednesday morning. No offense, but on Monday, you looked like hell.”
“At least we have a threshold for my appearance,” I say, semi-rolling my eyes.
Bill. Check. Bill. Check. Much the same as every other morning.
“Have you heard from him?” she asks as I reach the bottom of the pile.