by Marni Mann
Me: LOL. I can’t even with you.
Molly: I miss you.
Me: So much it hurts.
Molly: Girls’ night when you get home? I’ll send the boys to something sport-ish, and May will go to Marshall’s parents’ house.
Me: Sounds like a date.
“Chloe,” Marshall said as he was getting off his elevator into the lobby of his building. “Welcome home.”
“Thank you.” I smiled, and we kissed each other on the cheek. “Lance is super excited about the game.” I nodded toward the front entrance where my husband was waiting for Marshall outside in the backseat of his SUV.
“Same.” He laughed, pointing toward the ceiling. “She has enough food in the condo to feed the whole building.”
“That’s our Molly.” I continued to smile while I walked into the elevator and he stepped out.
“It was really good to see you, Chloe. The four of us are overdue for our Mistral date.”
“Yes, we are, and I can’t wait. Have a good time tonight,” I said, and the door began to slide shut, my hand going in the air to wave good-bye.
I’d been home for three days, and the thought of this visit had been eating at my stomach from the second I landed in Boston.
Yet I desperately wanted to see my best friend.
I just didn’t want her to see me.
Because even though I could hide what I was doing from the rest of the world, including my husband, Molly was the only person who would see straight through my lies.
And that was something I just wasn’t ready to face.
But now, the elevator was opening, and I was moving down the hall, gently knocking on their door. I sucked in my breath, and as it opened, a face I knew so well came into view.
“Hi,” I said, the sound of my voice surprising me.
She said nothing; she just stared back.
And then I felt it—the moment she saw the truth and when it all settled inside her.
“Molly …”
She smiled wide, not showing any teeth, and she opened her arms and pulled me against her.
At first, it was just a hug where she was squeezing the hell out of me. But then it became so much more when I realized just how badly I needed my best friend’s arms around me.
“Don’t let go.”
“I won’t, babe.” She strengthened her grip. “I’ll stand here all night if you need me to.”
The tears were there before I even took a breath, the weakness moving through my body, turning all of me numb.
“Now, I know why you’ve been avoiding me.” She clenched my shoulders. “I mean, let’s face it; I knew before. But now, I really know.”
I clung to her even tighter, remembering the last time I had been here when I held her almost the same way. “Let’s go inside before your neighbors know how much of a mess I am.”
She slid her arm around my waist and led me into her condo while I wiped my face with both hands, still not getting all the wetness.
“Here.” She handed me a tissue when we got into the kitchen. “And take this too,” she added, sticking a tumbler between my fingers that I assumed was vodka on the rocks. “Now, let’s get cozy.” Her hand was back in mine, bringing me to the large sectional in the living room, and then she spread a big, fluffy blanket over us.
I held the drink in my lap, trying to find a place to start, words that could accurately describe this new place I was in.
But when I looked up at Molly, I had nothing. And not a single syllable came from my mouth.
“I’m your person,” she said softly, the pain visible on her face. “And you completely shut me out.”
Oh God.
I’d already fucked up so much.
It killed me that this situation had now affected her and our friendship.
“I didn’t want to have this conversation, Molly.” I swallowed, the vodka burning in a way that I had to wait several seconds before I could speak again. When I looked at her, a pain began to gnaw through the center of my chest. “I didn’t want to admit the truth to you.”
She reached across the couch cushion, her fingers now rubbing my shoulder. “Of all people, I should be the one you can admit anything to. Always. But, Chloe, you can’t keep going on like this.”
“No.” I felt my chest heave, as I’d been thinking the same thing for days. “I can’t.”
“Do you love him?”
Silence passed between us as she waited for an answer.
And it hurt like hell, but I had to tell her the truth.
“Yes.” A sob blasted out of me. “I love him.”
“What does that look like? Long-term, I mean. You live here, and he lives there. He comes here and gets a green card? Or you get a work visa, move your whole world to Europe, and live happily ever after?”
I took a breath. “I don’t know.”
“You have to know, Chloe. You have to have a plan because, no matter how you work this out, someone is going to get hurt.”
The spit began to thicken in my mouth. “I have options.”
“Like what?”
I knew she wasn’t going to want to hear this, but she needed to because it was a strong reality.
“I can extend my contract, and it’s something I’ve really been considering.”
“What?” Her voice was rising fast. “Have you literally lost your fucking mind?”
I squeezed the cold glass in one hand and the blanket in the other as I cried, “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
“Chloe …” Her fingers were clamping down on my shoulder, her tone getting even stronger. “I want you to say you’re going to stop playing house with Lance while you’re in Boston and you’re going to stop playing house with Oliver while you’re in Amsterdam and that you’re going to make a goddamn decision.”
“Molly …”
“You have a life here.” Her back straightened, her stare narrowing. “You have a husband who would give up his business, houses, and probably every dollar to his name just to be with you. And you have the most beautiful life that the two of you have created together—a life every person I know would die to have.” She paused, and it felt like my throat was going to close. “Are you going to give all of that up for Oliver? The man you dated for just a semester when you were twenty-one years old? Who you only spend two weeks a month with?” Her fingers lightened, and I wished they were gripping me again. “What’s it going to look like when the honeymoon wears off and things get tough between you and Oliver? You already know how incredible your life can be with Lance, but can you say that about Oliver?”
The silence came again.
It was so thick that it took my breath away.
“Fuck,” I cried, my hand going over my face.
I needed the darkness, a minute just to myself because what was happening inside me wasn’t normal.
Not with the amount of guilt I was bearing from what I was doing to both of these men.
When my palm finally dropped to my lap, I stared at my best friend again, and in the softest voice, she said, “Babe, I love you, but you have to tell me how you see this ending.”
I glanced away as an image of Lance came into my head. It was of us kissing before I’d gotten out of the SUV tonight and another one of us making love in the shower just a few hours ago.
I thought of Oliver, the texts we’d exchanged today, the way he had taken my body the morning of my flight.
I stared back into her eyes, giving her as much of my truth as I could. “I don’t know, but when I figure it out, I promise, you will know.” I reached forward, putting my hand on her arm. “Can you accept that for now? Because, Molly, it’s honestly the best I have at this moment.”
She didn’t say anything; she just pulled me into her arms, and I hugged her right back.
“Are you hungry?” Lance asked, his fingers linked through mine as we walked down Boylston Street, passing some of our favorite restaurants.
“I had a huge breakfast,” I rep
lied, sliding to the side to avoid a large group of pedestrians. “But I could eat something small.”
“We could grab …” His voice trailed off, and I glanced toward him to see where his attention had gone. He was staring at the store window we were walking by and said, “Come look at this,” bringing me over to the glass.
The display was for a baby boutique, filled with tiny outfits and adorable accessories.
“That one,” he said, pointing to an outfit in the back, which was an infant bikini, hat, and sunglasses. “For when we’re in Siesta Key.”
In the window, I was able to see my husband’s reflection, the smile on his handsome face as he looked at the clothes and hats and bathing suits for babies.
There was so much love in his eyes.
And it was for a family we’d been talking about starting for the past year.
His reflection began to shift as he moved behind me, pressing his hands against my stomach, lips close to the back of my ear. “Since you’re not renewing your contract, we only have one more month to go.”
As I stared at the clothing display, my eyes closed, a shudder trickling through my body.
“Can you imagine what our baby is going to look like?” His voice was so soft now; I almost didn’t recognize it. “I wonder if our little girl will have your wild red hair or if our boy will get my eyes.” He breathed against the side of my face. “Chloe, I’m ready to start the next chapter in our lives.”
I felt the tears leave my lids as I opened my eyes. Not afraid of Lance seeing me cry, I turned around and hugged his waist. The expression I had seen in the reflection of the window was the same one I was looking at now.
I closed my eyes once again, holding my lips so close to his, and I whispered, “I love you,” right before he kissed me.
After spending the day walking around our neighborhood, shopping in several of the new stores, Lance and I came back home.
We were standing in the kitchen, his eyes on his phone, when he said, “I have to return a few of these emails before dinner.”
Relief flooded through me as I smiled for my husband and said, “I’m going to take a quick shower, then.”
And once he kissed me, heading for his home office, I went into our bathroom and locked the door behind me.
As I stripped off my clothes, leaving them wherever they landed, I avoided the mirrors.
I didn’t even glance down to look at my own skin.
When I reached the shower faucet, I turned it to the hottest setting. Then, I walked straight in until my back hit the wall, and I slowly slid to the floor. I tucked my knees to my chest, and I held myself in the tightest ball while the freezing water pelted my face.
And while I waited for it to warm, my mouth opened, and this time, it wasn’t silent screams that came out.
It was sobs.
Forty-Eight
“I’m going to need your signature at the bottom of each page,” Sven, my manager, said as he pushed a stack of papers toward me.
“No problem,” I replied, my eyes falling onto the first lines, lifting the pen off his desk.
I knew what the contract said; I’d read it many times. I even knew the places I needed to initial, sign, and date—doing all three before I returned it to him.
He carefully checked each sheet, and then our eyes connected.
He stuck his hand out in the air for me to shake. “That looks like everything.” He nodded to confirm. “Have a safe trip home, Chloe.”
“Thank you.” I released his fingers and made my way out of his office and down the hall, stopping at my desk to grab my things before I left.
These past two weeks in Amsterdam had gone by so quickly that it felt like I’d just gotten off the plane. But as I’d learned during my semester in London, time was something I couldn’t slow down. So, I had taken in every moment I had with Oliver.
And now that it was the last evening of my six-month contract, I would be flying home tomorrow. I left the office and went straight to my hotel where he was waiting for me.
Just like we were in college all over again, he stood in my tiny kitchen, making us dinner.
But now, six years later, we were different people.
We’d just found each other again.
And, God, did it feel right.
“Hungry?” he asked.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly against me. “Starving.”
“Good. I made a lot.”
I kissed him, and as his lips parted, I felt the smallest touch of his tongue. And I breathed in his scent and held it inside me.
“Oliver …” I moaned softly.
His beard brushed over my cheek, and I took in the sensation, the warmth that he passed on to me.
He stayed just like that for several minutes until he leaned back to look at my eyes. “I’m going to feed you and then make love to you since it’s going to be six weeks before I get to do either again.”
I shook my head, the emotion starting to come to my eyes. “Both sound delicious.”
“Sven thought he was doing the American team a favor by giving you a longer break at home.” His gaze dropped to my lips. “But these six weeks are going to feel like an eternity.”
Tears were already in my eyes, and when I nodded, they loosened. Oliver was on them immediately, wiping them before they fell.
“You’re so sweet, and I’m so lucky,” I whispered. “I have no idea what I did to deserve you.”
He kissed the tip of my nose, across my lips, and over each cheek. “I’m the lucky one.” He then rubbed his beard over my skin as though he knew I needed all the extra roughness I could get before my flight tomorrow. “I made my mum’s spaghetti.” He paused, and I saw the pain in his eyes over her passing. “I know you remember that dish.”
“I knew I smelled that yumminess when I walked in.”
“I’ll get us some plates.”
His hands dropped from my body, and he reached into the cabinet, bringing two dishes over to the stove where he put pasta into each. He then placed them on my table, adding garlic bread to the plates.
Before I even sat down, I knew he had poured us champagne, and there were probably cookies for dessert. “Thank you,” I said, staring at his mom’s specialty. “You know how much I love when you cook.”
“You inspire me to want to spend more time in the kitchen.”
I grinned as I took my first bite, savoring the hearty flavor of the Bolognese. “You’re an exceptional chef, Oliver.” I swallowed and took another bite, my eyes closing as the taste melted on my tongue. “Don’t ever stop cooking.”
When I looked at him again, I saw his beard had grown a little wilder. I loved this length and the way his hand brushed over the bottom of it after he chewed.
As he noticed me staring, he smiled. “Six weeks is a fucking eternity.” Hearing him repeat it only emphasized how hard this was going to be. “But then, at least we have another six months together.” He took several breaths. “I’ll take any time I have with you, but you know … you’re going to have to make a choice soon, sweet girl.”
“I know.” I stuck the fork into the mound of pasta and kept it there. “Time has certainly never been in our favor, has it?”
“Not since I met you.” He licked the sauce off his lip. “Always slipping away every time I try to grasp you.”
I left my fork and reached for my napkin. “That’s because I’m not good at good-byes.”
“We’ve had a lot of them.” He took a long drink of his champagne. “I hope, one day, we’ll have forever, and I won’t have to say good-bye again.”
I glanced out the window, the one that was letting in a breeze of Amsterdam and said, “Hope.” I then took in the deepest breath before turning toward those icy-blue eyes. “This is the city for it.”
His gaze deepened. “My sweet, sweet girl.”
Knowing there was no way I could put another bite in my mouth, I rose from the table and straddled his lap. My arms circle
d his neck, my lips gently pressing to his.
From the moment Oliver had first kissed me in London, I’d felt this wave of warmth pass through me, an intensity that started in his fingertips and traveled through my whole body. The closer we got, the deeper I fell, the hotter his heat became. So, as he kissed me, his fingers touched my face, cupping it in a way that was so original to him, and I was scorching.
But tonight, there wasn’t an urgency in his movements. What he gave me was a slow, building passion that wrapped around us, holding us to this moment forever.
“Chloe …”
He began unbuttoning my shirt and lifted it over my head before he carried me to the bed and pulled off my pants and undergarments. While he was taking off his clothes, I backed up to the headboard so I could watch him. With each piece he removed, memories burned into my mind of the times I’d kissed those exact spots, when I’d run my fingers across them.
“Sweet girl,” he hissed as he joined me on the bed, sliding between my legs.
He didn’t wait for the tease. He made sure I was ready—and I always was with him—and then he was thrusting inside me.
In one, long, deep, powerful stroke.
“Oh God, yes,” I moaned, my head falling against the pillow. My legs circled his waist, keeping him as close as I could. My arms stayed tightly wrapped around his neck, and while he moved in and out of my body, I kissed every bit of his skin I could reach. I passed along the edge of his neck, traveling to his ear and down his chest. “Oliver … I love you.”
My breath came out in pants, each pump of his hips almost taking the air out of me.
We were suddenly moving, and he was lifting me on top of him, setting me on his lap, giving me the view I’d wanted all along—nothing but his handsome face.
While our chests were pressed together, mouths locked, I lowered my body, taking in every inch of him. When I got to the base, I hugged him to me, pulsing as I kept him inside me. And gradually, I began rocking over him, our limbs staying tangled, mine finding a home nestled with his.
“I love you,” I heard.
I gasped at the way his words floated down my throat, and I held them in my chest.