“I’m aware of his thoughts on the matter.” His tone is ice.
“He came to my apartment and he lied to me about some things. And he was your dad and a respected doctor so I believed him. Then he gave me an ultimatum. You could have me or your family. But not both. So I walked away, thinking it was the right choice and that I was sparing you.” It’s not the whole truth but it’s the important parts I need off my chest. “I received every single voicemail and email. I ignored them, believing I was making the right decision.” The words leave me, like an exorcism. I’m free of it.
But he is heartbroken. I see it all over his face. “I knew it,” he seethes, speaking through his clenched jaw.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come to you and tell you what happened and that I chose for you without giving you the option. I was young and stupid and easily tricked by a man who wanted to control your life.” I stare at him, expecting wrath. He’s about to leave and never ask me out for dinner again. And I have to make peace with that.
But his gaze fixes on mine. He takes a journey in his head, besieged with something. He does appear angry for a moment but it fades.
Finally, he speaks, “I don’t care. Well, obviously I care but we can’t change it. And my dad isn’t part of my life for a reason.” He swallows hard, struggling. “I knew it was him. That he had something to do with it. We were perfect and I introduced you to them and that was it.”
“I’m sorry,” I repeat.
“I confronted him and he refused to admit anything, but I never stopped believing he played a part in that.” He steps closer, taking my hand in his and running his thumb over my palm. “The same way I never stopped thinking about you. Thank you for telling me.”
I might not have given him the whole truth about his dad, but the weight of it all is lifted. In that moment, I give myself permission to begin anew. Promising that every day I will mend more of the scar on my heart. Instead of letting it rule me.
I will not be afraid of love. Or live half a life.
Our eyes lock. His hand draws heat around mine. I shiver from it.
The moment lasts a lifetime.
Neither of us moves or speaks.
Until Sam attacks.
He wraps his arms around me.
Sam’s lips are on mine, kissing me like his life depends on it. His hands slide up my back, almost massaging.
A desperate moan escapes me, igniting him further.
Hands are tugging at clothes, mine and his. I’m sweaty with nerves but beyond caring.
I can’t get enough of the feel of his hands on my skin and his lips against mine. His body is hard, firm and muscled. He’s thicker now than the last time I touched him.
It’s a blur of staggering and disrobing, and suddenly we’re lying on my bed and he’s over me, hovering with the exact same expression on his face as when he was younger.
I flash to fifteen years ago, feeling the same as I did then.
He smiles before he kisses me again.
The moment stays with me as we race past simple glances and subtle smiles in the hallway. The fire we’ve created is burning hot, and I don’t recall his lovemaking being this good fifteen years ago.
In an animalistic way we purge ourselves in a first round. It’s desperation as a result of built-up angst. And maybe quarantine. And maybe the shittiest year in recent history.
When it’s finished, we don’t speak. I walk to the shower and suddenly he’s there too.
I take a minute to pay homage to the body he has built. It’s perfect. Cut and hard, rippling with muscle. And weirdly, he does the same. His beautiful hands cup and caress, helping me with soaping up and cleaning off the sweaty mess we have both become.
But touching and remembering leads to more kissing.
There are no words spoken, which is heavier than I imagined it would be.
But the sex is so fantastic that I refuse to let any of the unfinished and unspoken things in our lives interrupt me living a fantasy I’ve had for far too long.
Chapter 40
November 15
Unknown location
I’m in a waiting room. It’s white and bright.
I think I’m waiting for something. Someone?
But who?
It’s quiet and still.
The light is weirdly bright.
I glance about, expecting someone.
But it isn’t time.
They’re not here yet.
Chapter 41
November 15
I’m mid wheeze as I jog my way around Point Pleasant Park when the phone rings.
“Hello?” I answer without checking the call.
“Hey, it’s Rod.”
I trip on nothing and catch myself on a bench, certain I’m hallucinating. “Who?”
“Lil?”
“Rod?” I gag on the name. “What do you want?” I ask, annoyed that he’s interrupting my run. Or that he breathes air. Or he exists.
“Where are you?” he asks as if he has the right.
“Out for a jog. What do you want?” I repeat and begin walking so I’m not as winded.
“You don’t jog—”
“Rod, you don’t know me anymore or what I do. Now why are you calling?” I hold back none of my annoyance.
“Right, anyway. I wanted to split the RRSPs and other investments. I know we said we would wait until the divorce is finalized, but I think we should do it now. Get it over with.”
A cruel smile spreads across my lips. “I’m in no hurry. I think we can wait the few months to do it.” I know exactly why he’s making this call. He’s broke. James told me Rod overextended himself on the house. It was Elaine’s choice.
“Lil, can we just do it—?” He’s close to begging. “Please?” The word is hard for him to choke out.
“I mean, I guess. I can meet you at the bank if you have to do it.” I lay it on thick. I could care less when we do the stupid investments.
“You’re amazing. Is the twenty-third too soon? We could meet at one; I have an appointment set up.”
“Isn’t that next Monday? Unlike you, I have to be in the office.” Of course he makes the appointment for his schedule without considering mine.
“Can you take your lunch break then? The bank is walking distance.”
I stop and close my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. I’m practically chanting that he is not allowed to get under my skin. It takes everything in me to concede, “Fine. I’ll meet you there at one.”
“You’re the bes—”
I end the call and start running again.
My feet hit the pavement harder than my fitness level is capable of. By the time I get home, I’m a sweaty mess but I finally get why Liz runs. I feel good. Genuinely happy. And after getting a phone call from Rod, I should be upset. Annoyed. This is therapeutic.
“It’s working,” I mutter to myself as I step into the elevator. The doors close and in the shiny metal I smile at my reflection. My face is bright red. My hair looks like I’ve been electrocuted at least once today. But there is a glint in my eyes. A spark I haven’t seen in years. A realization that I was miserable in my marriage for a long time and it wasn’t just Rod.