Is she mocking me again? I think she is.
“Yes. Most certainly, it would,” I said.
“So, you’re depriving yourself of something that you greatly want on many levels, when really, I would say your worst fear has basically already happened. You’ve already concluded that he’s leaving—yet you’re attached anyway, thinking of him all of the time. Knowing that he’s leaving has not stopped you from focusing on him.”
What is she getting at?
“You think I should give in to my desires despite the consequences?”
She shook her head. “That’s not my decision to make. I do, however, think that you should probably realize that the attachment you fear has already happened.”
Sweat was permeating my forehead. “This is not exactly what I wanted to hear.”
“Do you disagree?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Look, Bridget, there’s a certain amount of risk in everything. We take chances every day. The only thing we can control is what happens today. As an adult woman, you shouldn’t be depriving yourself of something that you clearly want. You’ve admitted that you want him and that it’s been a struggle to resist.”
“Okay, but that’s selfish, isn’t it? What about Brendan?”
“What about Brendan? Your son already seems to be enamored with Simon. Your choosing a physical relationship with this man is not going to make a difference from Brendan’s perspective, as long as you choose to keep things discreet.”
It seemed no matter what I said, my therapist was making a case for my taking the plunge with Simon, and it was making me very uneasy. I needed someone to talk me out of it at this point, not talk me into it.
I was getting defensive. “I don’t agree with you—on all of this. I really feel like giving in would be an emotional disaster waiting to happen.”
“Ultimately, you need to do what you’re comfortable with. My job is just to help you identify your feelings. You may still choose to make the decisions that you deem right by some internal court of law in your mind. No decision is the wrong one, necessarily.”
When I stayed lost in thought, she continued.
“You’ve been thinking with your head for a very long time. While that makes for a very safe existence, we sometimes inadvertently inhibit our true happiness when we do this. Life choices shouldn’t always be about the end result. People fail to realize that the small adventures in the middle are sometimes more important. When you’re old, you’re going to reflect on your life and everything is just going to be one big ball of memories anyway. Why not have something worthwhile to look back at?”
I hated that this bitch was making a point.
Simon snuck up on me at the nurses’ station. “So, when were you gonna tell me it’s your birthday?”
A chill ran down my spine at the sound of his voice.
“How did you know that?”
“Brendan told me.”
“Well, when you get to a certain age, it’s not exactly something to celebrate anymore.”
“That’s utter tosh, Nurse Valentine.”
“Tosh?”
“Rubbish.”
“Oh.”
“What are you plans tonight, birthday girl?”
“Brendan and I have a tradition on my birthday that started last year. We go to this fancy Chinese restaurant and gorge ourselves.”
“You have room for one more?”
“You want to join?”
“No, I was going to send Alex Lard to cough on your food,” he teased. “Of course, I want to join.”
I hated that I was starting to feel giddy. “Oh…sure, yeah,” I said nonchalantly, even though my heart was pounding.
“Okay. I get off a bit later than you. I could meet you guys there around eight?”
“That sounds great. I’ll text you the address.”
Later that night, Brendan and I snagged a corner booth at Willie Chen’s Asian Bistro. The restaurant was known for their amazing moo shu, live music, and exotic drinks. Of course, there would be no drinking for me tonight since I would be driving home.
Brendan was playing with the chopsticks while we waited for our appetizer. I kept glancing back toward the door, checking for Simon.
It wasn’t until I stopped looking for five minutes that I smelled his delicious scent behind me.
He looked gorgeous. His sky blue sweater fit him like a glove. He wore a white collared shirt underneath it and donned a chunky watch I’d never noticed before that accentuated his massive hands.
His eyes fell to my breasts. I might’ve let a little more cleavage than normal peek out tonight.
“The birthday girl looks amazing,” he said, taking a seat next to Brendan across from me.
“Thank you.”
He looked down at Brendan, and I braced for Simon’s reaction.
“Wow, buddy…your hair. It looks…”
“Like yours,” I reluctantly admitted. “Now that he’s grown it out long enough, he’s taken it upon himself to brush the front forward to match your unique style.”
It made me a bit uncomfortable that my son had done that, but I didn’t have the heart to make him change it, because it was truly adorable.
Simon looked really amused. “I’m flattered. It looks great on you.”
Brendan smiled. “Thanks.”
Simon’s smile lingered on Brendan. Then, he grabbed a menu. “So, what’s good here?”
I pointed to a certain section. “We love the moo shu pork, and we get the poo poo platter for an appetizer because it has a little of everything if you like the fried stuff, but really anything on the menu is a sure bet. They have really good food.”
When the waitress came by, Simon ordered a beer. After I declined a drink, he looked at me like I was crazy.
“It’s your birthday. Have a drink!”
“No, I don’t drink when I drive, especially when I have him in the car.”
“I’ll drive us home. You get a drink and unwind. You only have one birthday. We’ll come get your car tomorrow.”
That sounded really tempting. “Okay, I’ll have a mai tai.”
When the waitress lit the flame in the middle of our poo poo platter, Simon joked, “Don’t get too close, Bridget, I’ve had my share of putting out fires for a while.”
I squinted my eyes at him. “Very funny…but true.”
We shared a silent moment, just staring at each other.
Our meal came, and Simon noticed Brendan struggling to use the chopsticks.
He put down his own and took Brendan’s from his grasp. “Like this.” Simon spent the next five minutes showing him how to use them properly.
My heart was definitely pitter-pattering even more than usual tonight.
At one point, Simon got up to use the restroom, and I let out a deep breath. It made me realize that having him here was actually making me a bit nervous, not in a bad way, but in the butterflies in your stomach kind of way.
Once he returned a few minutes later, a waitress came to the table with a piece of birthday cake and a candle.
Brendan looked so excited. The waitress addressed him, “Your daddy told me it was your mother’s birthday!” She placed the cake in the center of the table along with a second mai tai in front of me.
I was going to need that drink after I heard Brendan tell her, “Oh, Simon’s not my dad. My dad’s dead.”
A few seconds of awkward silence passed.
The waitress looked mortified. “Oh, I’m sorry. I just assumed…”
My son grinned. “That’s okay. He’s my good friend and sometimes uncle.”
Simon fist-bumped Brendan. “Good answer.”
Relieved that the moment of sadness had passed, I took a long sip of my drink.
Simon watched me. “Better drink up, Mummy. Only one beer for me. I’m the designated driver so you can enjoy it. Take advantage of me.”
God, I’d like to take advantage of you tonight.
The rest of the eve
ning turned into a really fun time. The second mai tai certainly helped with that. Simon told Brendan lots of stories about his childhood in England. In the meantime, a third mai tai magically appeared, and I knew Simon had told the waitress to just keep bringing them to me.
Brendan was in his glory having Simon’s full attention, and I was honestly in my glory, too, watching them interact. I was also completely buzzed, which seemed to drown out all of the negative thoughts normally ruining precious moments like this.
At the end of the night, the waitress brought out three fortune cookies, and we each took one.
Brendan opened his and handed me his fortune.
I read it aloud, “Land is always on the mind of a flying bird.”
“What’s yours say, Mom?”
I opened mine and read it aloud. “The Wheel of Good Fortune is finally turning in your direction. Well, that’s nice to know,” I said, taking a bite of the cookie.
Simon discreetly read his fortune, but I noticed him slipping it into his back pocket.
“Aren’t you gonna read yours, Simon?” Brendan asked.
“I’m gonna save it, actually.” He winked.
Brendan was practically asleep on the ride home. It had been a late night for him.
I tucked my son into bed as soon as we got back to the house.
While I was with Brendan, Simon had cracked open a bottle of wine and was sipping it in the kitchen when I made my way over to him.
I grabbed the glass from him and took a long sip then licked my lips. His gaze was fixated on my mouth.
Our eyes locked.
I wanted him.
The alcohol I’d consumed was making the need worse.
“Your being there tonight really meant a lot to me, Simon. And you shouldn’t have insisted on paying for dinner.”
Simon took the wine from me. “It was the least I could do. I hadn’t had a chance to get you a present, seeing as though someone was trying to hide her birthday from me.”
“Well, I’m no spring chicken anymore. I don’t advertise this day.”
He took a sip. “You’re thirty-four. That’s not old. In fact, I find the slightly older woman thing to be quite a fucking turn-on.”
The last time my kitchen felt this hot, there was an actual fire.
He moved closer to me to the point where I could feel his words while he spoke and could smell the wine on his breath. “In your letter, you mentioned—among other things that shall not be named—that you were scared I wouldn’t want you once I saw your body. You’re forgetting that I have seen you, more than you probably realize. I got quite an eyeful that first day I walked in on you on the bathroom floor. All the things that you probably think are negatives are actually the things that I find the most sexually arousing: your luscious, plump arse, the slight feminine curve of your stomach, your soft, natural tits. And on top of those things… your eyes—they slay me. Despite everything you’ve been through, they still shine with hope and wonder, whether you realize it or not. You’re beautiful, Bridget. Absolutely fucking beautiful and don’t ever believe otherwise.”
I wasn’t even sure if I had any breath left in my body. It felt like he’d taken it all with those words. But he hadn’t, because all of the air within me only became depleted the moment he looked down at the floor then back up at me and whispered, “I wasn’t expecting you, either, you know.”
Simon placed his wine glass down on the counter and took something out of his back pocket.
It was his fortune from tonight. He smacked it down on the granite then said, “Happy birthday.”
I stood there and watched as he then left to go back to his room.
The small strip of paper was taunting me. I picked it up and read it.
The greatest risk is not taking one.
I’d just taken off my shirt to get ready for bed. When I turned around, the sight of Bridget leaning in my doorway was completely unexpected. Her eyes were fixated on my naked torso, and I noticed she had my fortune in her hand. She swallowed before speaking.
“I might not have wanted you to read my letter, but I meant everything I wrote in it.”
I took a few tentative steps toward her. “Like wanting me?” I didn’t need to hear her say the words to know—I was certain she wanted me. Her eyes and body language had told me that from the first time I met her. Yet I wanted to hear her say them aloud—to accept that it was okay for her to want me.
She looked down. A pink blush tinted her beautiful skin when she looked up. “Yes. I want you more than anything that I’ve ever wanted in my life. Honestly, it scares me how much I’m attracted to you.”
Those words were exactly what I wanted to hear, yet I knew there was a but coming. “Can we just stop there, and I’ll tell you the feeling is mutual? Because I have a feeling whatever you say from this point on, I’m not going to like as much.”
She smiled sadly. “What happens when your residency is over, Simon? Where will you go?”
I nodded, knowing what she was getting at. “Back to England. It’s my home, Bridget. Living here has never felt anything but temporary for me.”
“And do you want to have a family someday?”
I looked down and shook my head. “No. I don’t”
“It’s true that the greatest risk may be not taking one. But a risk is taking a chance when you have the potential to gain or lose something in the future. When that future is certain that you’re going to lose that something—it’s not taking a risk, Simon. It’s jumping out of a plane without a parachute and expecting to land on your feet anyway.”
Of course, she was right. As much as I didn’t want to hear it, deep down, I knew she was doing the right thing—for both of us. I wanted her so badly that I couldn’t focus—but it wouldn’t just be sex with us. Even I knew that much. “I understand.”
Bridget hesitated at my door for a while, looking torn. Finally, she said, “Can I just lie with you for a little while? I’m not ready to be alone, and it’s been a really long time since anyone has held me.”
She mistook my delayed response as a no.
Turning before I could answer, she shook her head and started to walk out of my room. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you that. It’s not appropriate or fair.”
“Bridget, wait!”
She froze with her back to me. I walked over and stood so close that I felt her body shaking. “I want to lie with you. There’s nothing more that I would like right now. It’s just…” I couldn’t believe I was embarrassed to say anything to her after the show I’d put on last week. But I was. “…it’s just that I’m already hard from just being around you, and there’s no way in the world that’s going to change if you get into my bed. If that won’t upset you…if you don’t mind, I’d love it if you would join me in my bed. Maybe I could put a pillow between us so we can spoon without you getting forked.”
She smiled. “I’d love that. Just for a little while.”
I took Bridget’s hand and led her to my bed. Once she got in, I slipped in behind her, put a pillow over my groin, and wrapped my arms around her waist. I pulled her flush against me and held her as if my life depended on it. My hard-on was excruciatingly painful, and I had the strongest urge to thrust back and forth against her soft ass—pillow or not. I could’ve probably come just from dry humping her fully clothed. But I didn’t even attempt to move. Instead, I focused on listening to the sound of her breathing. It was jagged for a long time, but eventually it smoothed out, and I could feel that her body had also relaxed.
There was no way in the world that I could sleep with her pressed up against me. At least not without a quick trip to the bathroom to give myself a good wank so that my cock might deflate a little. But that would have meant letting go of her, and I wasn’t ready to do that because as good as it felt, I knew that this would most likely be the first and only time that we did this. Bridget would begin to distance herself again in the morning, and I wasn’t about to miss a minute of what she was allowi
ng me to have tonight.
After about forty minutes, her breaths slowed even more and her shoulders fully relaxed. Bridget had fallen asleep in my arms.
Hours later, when she stirred, I was still awake, but I pretended not to be for her own sake. She turned to face me, and then I felt her soft lips on my cheek before she whispered. “Thank you, Simon.” And then she was gone.
I had long shifts over the next few days. Since Bridget was off, I hadn’t seen her since she crept out of my bed, and I was feeling some sort of depressing withdrawal. During a particularly slow overnight shift, Brianna, the nurse I’d dated a few times, propositioned me for a quickie in the supply room. Even though it would have probably been the smartest thing for me to do—screw Bridget right out of my head—I doubted if I could even get it up for anyone else at that point.
When my lunch break rolled around, I decided I needed to get some fresh air and headed over to Calliope’s studio for a much-needed pick me up. My friend was always a bright ray of happiness.
As usual, she was teaching a class when I walked in. So, I took my regular position in the back of the room for a session of arse watching while I drank my protein shake. Not even that did anything for me. A bunch of skinny, boyish-shaped arses on women who dressed up in expensive yoga outfits that matched their sneakers couldn’t hold a candle to Bridget in a pair of sweatpants bending over and unloading the dishwasher.
Christ, I’m fucked.
I’d rather be at home watching a mum who was never going to be with me unload her dishes, than checking out a line of twenty-five-year-old arses. This shit is depressing.
Class ended, and I made my way up to the front, genuinely happy to see my friend. “Calli…I’m always dropping by to see you at work. I’m feeling neglected that you don’t at least make an effort to break an arm or need some stitches.”
“Someone might need stitches in the ER, but it won’t be me, you jerk.”
My brows furrowed. What the hell? Where had my ray of sunshine gone? I smiled wide. “Did someone accidentally put two scoops of bitchy in her bowl of grumpy this morning?”
Calli’s hands went to her hips. “I told you not to screw with my friend.”