Behind Her Smile

by Luck, Olivia

  “And your no-good disgusting pendejo of a husband didn’t help,” Adriana growls. I can’t help my tiny smile. That’s unconditional love.

  “That too. What I’m trying to say is my dreams are changing and I’m learning to be okay with it. I’m not as career driven as I thought I was in school. I want some of my marriage to be for good. Over the last five years, I’ve met many women who need gowns for this event or that, and I want to create for them. One-off designs like I’m doing for you with this gown. And I’ll keep the business to whatever pace suits me. Who knows where I’ll be in a few months’ time. But I’ll keep working at Lulu’s and hopefully build a business on the side.”

  Adriana’s champagne flute is half-full on the tabletop. One hand props up her chin as she listens. “And what of your personal dreams?”

  This time warmth and color floods my cheeks. They get hot as I play with the stem of the glass between my thumb and pointer finger. “If he’ll have me–”

  “Ha! As if Alec would turn you down. He practically salivates at the sound of your name.”

  It’s easy to laugh again. It’s easy to smile—truly smile without pretense—again. Little by little, day by day, life goes on. The past keeps parts of the broken Karolina with it, and the present greets the stronger, wiser prouder woman.

  In the impending divorce, the only asset I decided to ask for was the car I drive. With a mountain of legal muck to battle, my lawyer, Jared, was right. David didn’t fight for anything. We’ll sign the papers at the end of this week, and then I will be a free woman. The thing is that I don’t want to be completely free. It’s been years since I felt any sort of real emotion for David Morgan. I’ve been starving for love for so long I don’t remember how I felt before the cavernous emptiness in my heart. That will have to wait for a little while because I have an important appointment on my calendar.

  The sight of Willow’s House still makes my heart rate rise, but the consuming panic no longer threatens. I parallel park the car along the curb and climb out. There’s no forcing myself this time. Freely, I walk to the front door, buzzing myself in as I do on all of my visits to this place.

  Sara waits for me in the kitchen, some of the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies already spread on the counter. We greet in the way that has become accustomed to us—a quick but fierce hug.

  Once the news broke of David’s sinister plot and near success, people from all points in my life have contacted me. Some to offer support, others wanting to capitalize on the story somehow, and then those curious about the salacious details of my marriage and subsequent arrest of David. Unfortunately, Dora fell into the last camp. The first time she called me, I was naively hopeful our friendship could return to the way it had been all those years ago. All she wanted was the story—dirt on the Morgans and information on the financial situation. As quickly as she reappeared in my life, she disappeared. I have no time for disingenuous relationships. That’s why I’ve spent my time cultivating genuine relationships—like this one with Sara.

  “I have news,” she tells me as I measure the dry ingredients.

  “What’s that?”

  “Friday is my last day living at Willow’s House. I saved up enough money, and one of my girlfriends is looking for a roommate.”

  “Sara, that’s wonderful! I’m excited for you. Where is it?”

  She shoots me a worried glance, nibbling on her lower lip. “Fort Lauderdale. Probably forty minutes from here.”

  “What about your job?” I cringe, my hand immediately lifting to cover my mouth at my stupidity. “That sounded really judgmental. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. What I meant to say is that forty minutes isn’t that far, and I hope we can continue to be friends.”

  Sara shoots me a relieved look. “You care about me. I get why you’d ask about a job. The doctor’s office I work at here has another location up there. They’re going to transfer me, and I start on Monday.” Then she grins. “And I’m really hoping we can still hang out even though I’m moving north.”

  “Tell me about your place.” Sara and I have this baking thing down to a science after doing it four times together already. We work in unison while she tells me about the amenities in the apartment complex and her roommate’s cat. It’s not until the cookies are in the oven that she finishes her story, and I finish gushing in excitement.

  “I have news too, though not nearly as upbeat as yours.”

  “Oh, no. Here I’ve been raving about my awesome new place and you have something on your mind. I’m sorry. Go ahead.” Sara shoots me a sympathetic look.

  “No, no, nothing bad. Ah. I’m going to get emotional.” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I twist my lips upward. “David and I will be divorced really soon, and I wanted to tell you that meeting you inspired me to tough it out when things were really crummy. And I’m thankful for that. You’re brave and really freaking awesome.”

  At this point, we’re both crying and hugging. I am thankful the cookies are safely baking in the oven. Otherwise, salty tears would cover them. When the tears settle and we’re both laughing at the emotional overload, Sara leans against the kitchen counter and folds her arms over her chest.

  “Where are you with the divorce? No, the actual divorce proceedings, I mean, like emotionally.”

  “Admittedly, I’m still trying to figure things out. But every day, I come to accept a little more that I couldn’t control David. And I realize that I don’t have to be the woman who stayed for the rest of my life. I’m the woman who survived and who will be better for it. One day. Not today. But one day.”

  “Damn right,” Sara says resolutely.

  The oven dings and I man the oven mitts to pull the first cookie sheet out and then replace it with a second. “I decided to stay in Adriana’s place a little while longer. She said I could live there as long as I want, but I feel like I’m mooching off her generosity.”

  “Am I mooching?” Sara looks at me pointedly.

  “Of course not!”

  “There’s no difference between you and me,” she says. “I live at Willow’s House free of charge, and you live at Adriana’s place without paying rent. We are both relying on the kindness of others while we get our footing back.”

  “You’re right,” I relent. “Still I want to pay my own way. The only good thing David ever did for me was pay off my student loans. Thankfully, I don’t have those hanging over my head.” With a spatula, I move the cooling cookies to a steel rack. “We’re a pretty good team.”

  “Karolina.” Sara places an understanding hand on my shoulder. “No one expects you to leave your marriage and be completely unaffected a month later. It’s time to stop comparing yourself to everyone else. No two residents at Willow’s House have the same story. Comparisons create divisions among us and I believe, like me, you come to Willow’s House for a judgment-free place. I don’t think for one minute you’re judging me. I think you’re still judging you. Love yourself where you are—the person you are today.”

  The temptation to indulge in a cookie is too strong. I take a bite before answering. “I don’t love myself, that’s for sure. But I’m learning to accept and that I’m a work in progress.”

  “That means be kinder to yourself.” Despite her diminutive stature, Sara gives a mean staredown. “No more comparisons. We’re on this journey together.”

  “Have you ever considered being a therapist?” I ask in all seriousness.

  Dimples appear and a tentative smile. “Maybe one day.” The sweet expression turns mischievous, and her eyes start to sparkle. “Speaking of love—you haven’t mentioned Alec in a while.” Sara has the uncanny ability, like Adriana, to cut right to the topic that makes me giddy and scared all at once. The only difference is Adriana is close friends with Alec, and though I know she would never break my confidence, I wouldn’t put it past the relentless man to badger her for information. That’s why I haven’t spilled all my feelings to her. She reads me easily, so she probably already knows how I
want the man as much as I want my next breath.

  “It’s been a month since I’ve seen him. Oddly, it’s like nothing has changed and everything has changed since the last time I saw him.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Nothing’s changed in that still thinking about him gives me chills and makes me warm and content all at the same time. But everything’s changed in the sense that I don’t blame myself for what David did and I have a job. I can come to Willow’s House without having a mental breakdown and I can watch the news.”

  Sara frowns. “The trial will be long and drawn out. I’m glad that you can turn on the TV without worrying about what you’ll see. The other day I saw . . .” she trails off uncertainly.

  “The death penalty was taken off the table because David’s cooperating. I know. My lawyer had told me before I found out somewhere else. I—there’s been enough death.”

  “Yeah, I agree,” she says solemnly.

  And the topic is dropped because I have no control over David’s trial. I am putting his future in the hands of the law.

  Sara brightens, and her eyes twinkle. “When are you going to see Alec?”

  Glancing down at the leather watch on my wrist, I almost flinch. “Actually, I should go. He’ll be leaving work soon, and I have a feeling he’ll come to my place afterward. Do you need help moving this weekend? I’d be happy to lend a hand or my car.”

  Sara shakes her head. “Nah. My brother and his friends will be here. Maybe you could come up on Saturday, and we could go shopping for new home stuff?”

  “I’d love that,” I say sincerely. We embrace again with me offering her more well wishes.

  When I walk outside, my steps are as light as they’ve ever been.

  Karolina

  Balmy night air lies still around the balcony. A round, jubilant moon blankets the Earth in a tranquil light. From this vantage point on the balcony, it’s easy to identify the people and cars drifting along the streets. I didn’t intend to still be awake, standing against the balcony railing watching one day melt into the next.

  Foolishly, I thought Alec would appear on my doorstep ready to sweep me into his arms. He did say he would give me a month’s time, and now, thirty days later, a little bug of insecurity bites at me.

  Alec was right, I muse over a cup of Sleepy Time tea. The warm liquid trickles down my throat, leaving a calming path in its wake. I am establishing an individual sense of self with a job and friends who I choose. Then there are the little things. I dress in the clothes I want to wear, eat what I want to eat, and exercise when I feel like it. I alone dictate my routine and priorities. I’m powerful and in control.

  Except when it comes to Alec. I’m not a savvy connoisseur of men. Sure, I could have called him today and said, ‘I’m ready. Come and get me!’ Better yet, I could have gone to his work or his house and gotten his attention. Piece by piece, I’m putting myself back together, but I’m not done. Alec deserves the grand gesture; he deserves the woman ready to lay it all on the line for him, and I simply need more time to gain the self-confidence to tell him the truth.

  I love him. The kind of effortless love that comes as natural as breathing. The kind of love that soothes even the sharpest pains. The kind of love that makes you want to be fully honest, even if it means revealing ugly and unattractive parts of your personality because you trust the love.

  Buzz.

  The phone vibrates against the outdoor coffee table. It shimmies against the glass with each vibration. My breath catches in my throat.

  Alec calling.

  “Alec,” I say breathlessly.

  “Look down.” That husky, velvety voice sends delicious shivers against every nerve ending in my body.

  Turning back to the rail, I search the sidewalk below until—“You’re here?”

  His head tilts up to the balcony; one hand lifts to lazily wave. From twenty stories up, it’s hard to make out the lines of his handsome face, but I would know that confident, relaxed stance anywhere.

  “It’s after midnight. The month wait is over.”

  Realization hits me hard and I laugh. “Do you want to come up?”

  “No.” My heart lurches. There. Insecurity in its purest form. “I want to take you to my house. Come down here, Karo.” As quickly as it filled my chest, the uncomfortable sensation goes away, replaced by hope.

  “Give me one minute.” It doesn’t matter that I’m wearing old leggings and a thin, oversized white t-shirt or that my hair is a mess. Racing into the closet, I grab a cardigan, throw it over my shoulders, and shove my feet into the first pair of sandals I find.

  He’s here. Alec came for me. I shouldn’t be surprised, but I am. A part of me wonders how he could find me desirable. Doubts be damned, I rush into the hallway and stab the elevator call button multiple times until it arrives. I shift from foot to foot on the ride down the twenty stories then run-walk into the lobby, past the doorman with a quick good-bye, and then out onto the sidewalk.

  His arms are waiting for me. When I rush to him, he drags me into his chest and fuses our bodies together as if we were two puzzle pieces always meant to click together. His nose nudges my collarbone when he dips low to press closer still. Digging my fingers into his trim waist, I inhale his raw, masculine scent.

  “It’s like coming home after the most harrowing journey.” Somehow, my lips are a few inches beneath his left ear. The words stall him. Stock-still. I whimper at the loss of contact when he straightens to his full height. Thick stubble on his chin and above his lip make him look more formidable than usual. “Did I—was that too much?”

  Alec looks tortured and elated. “My sweet Karo,” he growls. His lips slam over mine. I gasp at the intense contact, his opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth. Rising to my tiptoes, I slide my fingers through his thick hair, urging him down. I breathe him. Soak in his warmth, his dýnami̱. This kiss is my redemption, my release, my greatest joy.

  I’ve been searching for this all along. Even when I didn’t know what I wanted, it was this man.

  Alec breaks the kiss first, though he’s nonplussed, staring at me with those impenetrable black eyes. “My house.” Only his voice reveals the hint of an affected tremor. He weaves our fingers together, leading me to a waiting car.

  I don’t pay attention to where he takes me. I can’t keep my eyes off him, watching the way he commands the car with ease. One hand stays on the wheel and the other catches mine and places it on his muscular thigh. His muscles are tight with tension, the only hint I can tell there’s more simmering under the surface of the confident driver. If someone were to ask me what kind of car he drives or where he is taking me, I could not tell them. All I know is at some point we drive across a bridge and onto a smaller island.

  When he parks the car inside an inconspicuous two-car garage, I smile tentatively at him. “Now what?” Alec leans across the center console and presses the button to undo my seat belt.

  “You have two options, Karolina. We talk or . . .” His gaze runs across my face as if searching for an answer.

  “Or?” I tease him a little.

  “Fuck it,” he growls. “We’ll talk later.”

  A moment later, he slams the driver’s side door and stalks around the car. I almost want to laugh at the intense way his features draw together, but the second he whips open my door and stoops down to tug me out of the vehicle, I’m lost. A powerful rush of sensual heat hits me hard. Alec bends down to put one arm beneath my knees. The other curves around my back and he hauls me against his chest.

  “You don’t move fast enough,” he grumbles.

  I drop my head to the curve where his neck meets his shoulder. “By all means,” I tease in a husky voice I hardly recognize as my own.

  He doesn’t bother turning on the lights. He takes the steps two at a time. Insecurity disappears with each step further into the home. Sensual awareness replaces all the lingering doubts. The little hairs on the back of my neck stand up, tingling against my se
nsitive skin.

  With one bent knee pressing into a mattress for balance, Alec lowers me to the center of the bed. Hungrily, his gaze roves over my body as if he can’t get enough of me.

  “Wait.” This moment calls for a whisper. Gracefully, Alec pushes off the bed and moves to illuminate the room in mellow light from a standing lamp. He moves to lie on the bed next to me; he stretches one arm out long, bends it at the elbow, and uses a big hand to prop his head. His other hand comes to rest on my waist. Layers of clothing separate his skin from mine, but each stroke of his thumb ignites a trail of dizzying sensation.

  “I’m still trying to figure things out,” I confess.

  “Yes, I would imagine so.” His gravelly voice is so sexy I can’t help the jolt that makes my body start. Aware of his impact on me, a languid smile parts his lips. “Karo, I’ll take you in whatever form you’ll give me.” The self-assuredness falters. “Take this step with me. Together.”

  “I’m scared.” There’s no shielding my vulnerability; the way my voice trembles.

  His hand tightens on my waist convulsively then relaxes.

  “Not of you,” I hurry to say. “Of my own reactions and . . . and I want to please you.”

  Alec dips closer. He drags his nose along the length of my cheekbone. Such an innocent touch yet it ignites my senses. “There’s no doubt in my mind you’ll please me, Karo.” His voice rumbles, touching every inch of skin. I shiver. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”

  “One step at a time.” That settles around me like the warmest, most comforting sweater. “I can do that.”

  His spicy aftershave swirls around me when he half pulls/half yanks me against his chest. “We can. No more going at life alone, Karolina. I’m beside you no matter what the situation or emotion may be. There’s all the time in the world for me to tell you the ways I’m yours, but I don’t think I can wait another second.” And then his warm lips cover mine.