Entice

by S. Layne

  His lips brush against my jaw. “I still do, and that makes me an ass. I know. I never promised to be different. But if you show up on Monday, we’ll end this.”

  He pauses and I despise that my first thought is this: and if I don’t show up? Does it have to end then?

  I bite my tongue and keep my mouth shut.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispers, pulling away. “Thank you for these last few nights.”

  And then he’s gone.

  The door is still open but I hear him pad away, leaving me gasping for breath in his hallway until my shaky legs are strong enough to carry me forward.

  Carry me away from the enigmatic, mercurial man who has shown me a world of passion I’ve only dreamed of.

  I hate that as I finally make my way to my car, I can think of no good reason to truly despise Liam Parker. He has lied to me and kept things from me.

  And yet my fingers curl around my steering wheel and all I can think is…

  More.

  I want more of what we shared.

  Even if it was cloaked in lies and deceit.

  It’s amazing I safely manage the drive from Chicago to Denton.

  My hands are cramped around the steering wheel when I pull into the driveway, where I pause before parking the car in the garage.

  The lights are on inside and I close my eyes.

  I didn’t expect anything different, yet I still hoped for more time before I had to see James again.

  I can still feel Liam on my breath and his lips on my neck. I can feel his touch still burning my wrists where he last touched me.

  I stopped four times on the way home to scrub my neck and my wrists and all it left me was a red burn from the scratchy, cheap gas station paper towels.

  Gathering my courage and pushing down my guilt, I drive the car forward and close the garage door behind me.

  The metal door clinks and clanks as the old, ungreased chain screeches down the track. I’ve asked James to fix it plenty of times since we moved in and he’s never gotten around to it.

  I grit my teeth together, pushing down the minor irritation.

  There are so many bigger fires to put out.

  I’m quiet as I open the door to our mudroom and laundry room, where I quickly kick off my flip-flops and set my small suitcase on the folding counter.

  I don’t have the energy to deal with anything tonight, and if I can hide work that needs to be done until tomorrow, I will.

  I don’t want to see, or smell, any reminders of my week.

  “Laurie? Is that you?”

  James’s voice echoes through the house. It’s deeper than I remembered—but how can I forget something like that?

  I lick my dry, cracked lips that I’ve been gnawing on since I reached Chicago’s outer city limits.

  “Yeah,” I choke out. “It’s me.”

  The sting of tears burns the back of my nose and I inhale a deep breath.

  I’ve thought so much about this moment ever since I pulled out of the Meridian hotel’s garage parking.

  But now that the time is here, I want to slink back into the car.

  Put it off.

  “Hey…you’re home.”

  “Yeah.” I look up and my breath catches. Before now, I never thought there was a man in the world more handsome than James. His black hair and dark brown eyes that shine when he smiles. I love his body that used to be carved and muscled but now shows the early signs he doesn’t get to the gym as much as he used to.

  I love those imperfections on him. The ones only a woman who’s been with a man for as long as I have can find comfort in.

  His feet are bare and he’s dressed in faded jeans and a simple black T-shirt. It’s tight around his chest and I smile, needing to look away when I see the words “Dirty Nelly’s” stamped in Irish font across the front.

  It was our favorite college hangout.

  The place we went to drink and relieve the stress of school.

  It’s where he first proposed after a night of karaoke and too much beer.

  I thought he was joking and refused, and it was only two weeks later when he did it again for real. He simply teased me, saying he needed to know my answer first.

  As if there was any doubt.

  Who else would I love forever?

  Guilt slams my chest and I realize I’ve been staring at his chest, unspeaking.

  I pull my tired eyes to his, and he frowns.

  I can see his sorrow and his regret in the lines across his forehead and the outer edges of his eyes.

  “Laurie.”

  I shake my head and put a hand up. “I don’t want to talk.”

  I move to walk past him into the kitchen when his arm sticks out and wraps me around the middle.

  Tears instantly fall down my cheeks.

  I love him. I always have. I hate him, too, though. And I don’t know which one is more powerful. I don’t even know if love is enough anymore.

  And I just spent a week becoming worse than him. He betrayed me with too much drink and a bad decision—at least that’s his story.

  I found solace in a willing man and can’t bring myself to regret it enough to ensure it will never happen again.

  I can’t give him the same assurances he’s given me, even if they’re lies.

  The fact that I can’t trust him, and he unknowingly has no reason to trust me, sends a sharp pain into my chest.

  “What happened?”

  I shake my head again and push his arm off me. I can’t do this now.

  Not when his eyebrows are crinkled and he smells so good…so familiar and perfectly mine in every way.

  Not when, if I were to sink into his embrace and let him hold me and make me promises I don’t know if I can believe, he might be able to smell another man all over me.

  I walk past James, and he follows me. His bare feet pad gently over our wood floor that leads to the kitchen.

  My breath catches and my feet falter when I reach our kitchen. It’s open into the dining area.

  My hand flies to my mouth and I gasp.

  In front of me, candlelight dances around the large room. At some point he turned the lights off and the dining room is bathed in the glow of the light from elegant ivory candle tapers placed in silver stands.

  Flower petals decorate the entirety of our kitchen counters and wood floor, creating a carpet of ivory mixed with deep pink.

  Tears immediately spring to my eyes as I take in the massive space. Bouquets of roses in our wedding colors cover the area and are crammed so full in vases there’s no possible way any more could fit in the six large silver vases I can count.

  The candles are everywhere, and the way the flames dance creates a movement of golden color that highlights picture frames of us.

  Our wedding. Our honeymoon in Costa Rica. Our proms. College graduation. High school. A massive framed photo sits over our fireplace and I can’t tear my eyes away from it. We were eighteen and in high school and lying in the back of his truck soaking up the stars in the moonlit sky. It was the night we took each other’s virginity and we had lain next to each other on a bed of blankets and decided our future. We discussed colleges, marriage, children—down to our house and our furniture and what color we would paint our walls.

  I can’t help but look around the room and see that the dreams we made as kids have come true. He has given me almost every single thing I’ve ever wanted.

  Everything but kids and his faithfulness, and I’m no better. Not anymore.

  I sob into my hand.

  My shoulders shake as I take it all in.

  I cry louder when James comes up behind me and wraps me in the familiarity of his arms. Arms I thought would hold me forever.

  I shake my head, tears staining my cheeks, and they drip down my chin, falling faster than I can possibly wipe them away.

  “Shhh,” he croons in my ear. My hands fall to his hands and he moves them to cover mine instead. So strong. So comforting.

  God, he’s a
lways been there for me.

  “I didn’t do this to hurt you. I just wanted you to remember. To try…” His voice breaks. “Try to forgive me, Laurie. I love you.”

  It’s no longer enough.

  I realize it now as I scan the photos and the memories.

  It might have been before…but can’t be after this weekend.

  If I had loved James enough to consider forgiveness, I wouldn’t have done what I did. If he had loved me enough, he never would have slept with Becky.

  The destruction of our marriage was sealed the moment I met Liam in the restaurant at eight o’clock, only forty-eight hours ago. It was stamped in ink and blood the moment I followed him into his room, and the next night…when I allowed him into mine.

  “I’m so sorry,” I sob. Because I am. I’m so dreadfully sorry it’s come to this. Shifting in James’s arms, I collapse into his chest.

  His own choked cry follows my own.

  “I can’t. I can’t do it.”

  We hold each other and cry for what we’ve lost. The guilt is no longer solely on him. I’ve played my part.

  But we’ve gone too far to turn back. There’s no path to redemption when the basic foundation has cracked and crumbled.

  His hands come to my hair and he holds me against him. I can feel his tears seep into my hair on the top of my head and my own soak his shirt.

  I wrap my arms around him, holding his waist and hugging him tight, knowing it will be the last time.

  “I’m so sorry, James.”

  He sniffs and it takes him moments before he can speak. “I am too, Laurie. God, I’m so sorry.”

  It has been a weekend filled with tears and heavy silences that weigh down on my shoulders.

  I’m surprised I’m still standing on Sunday night.

  I took off Friday night, locking myself in my room, and when I woke up Saturday, my eyes burning from dryness and my hair a matted mess, James was gone.

  The kitchen and main floor had been completely cleaned and he hadn’t left a single remaining piece of evidence from the night before.

  I am a zombie through the weekend, mindlessly taking care of laundry and paying bills.

  With tears in my eyes I search for divorce lawyers.

  I ignore calls from Talia, knowing I have to speak to her at some point, but the last thing I want to do is tell her about Liam.

  Telling her about James will be hard enough, and while I know I need my friend’s support more than ever, there are too many unknowns before me.

  I have still not yet decided what I’m going to do about my job.

  It’s impossible to think of working for Liam.

  It’s just as scary to think of quitting and walking away from James. It means leaving my entire life and having no way to support myself.

  I’ve pushed the thought of my job into the recesses of my mind, trying to focus on one major life-altering decision at a time.

  James returned Saturday afternoon and we have spent the weekend talking.

  About nothing and everything. About Becky and what happens now.

  He moved into an extended stay hotel room until we make decisions on the house.

  It’s amazing how you walk into a marriage with stars in your eyes and walk away with spreadsheets that divide years’ worth of possessions.

  It’s so technical and we have yet to speak to a lawyer, but by the time James and I were done talking Saturday night, there were no more tears to fall. There were no more shouts and no more pleas to do better.

  I have not shared about Liam, knowing that from the pain in James’s eyes that it wouldn’t help anything.

  While I’ve tried to let James know I don’t place the blame solely on his shoulders, I also know he does.

  It’s horrific of me to let him continue thinking his indiscretion with Becky is the sole reason I’m leaving him, but nothing will be helped by him knowing either.

  It will only cause more pain, and I’m tired of hurting, I’m tired of seeing his hurt in his eyes when he looks at me full of regret.

  It’s when he stands in front of me with the last of his suitcases and clothes that I have to fight back another sob.

  He spins the keys around his thumb and catches them in his fist. “So.”

  I wring and twist a towel in my hands. “I’ll let you know once I talk to a lawyer.”

  His shoulders fall and he looks at the suitcase in his hands. “I wish there was another way. That I could go back.”

  “I know.” I lift a hand and stop him. “I’ve told you, though, this isn’t the only reason.”

  He shakes his head, stares over my shoulder. He glances around our house as if he’s trying to memorize it, soak it in for one last moment before he finally nods.

  “If you change your mind…”

  “I won’t.”

  His head raises and his eyes meet mine. There’s no happiness in them—just empty pools of brown that I’m certain mirror my own gray ones. “If you do. I’ll be here.”

  I open my mouth to speak, but he drops his suitcase. His hands clasp my cheeks and he presses his lips to mine.

  My mouth instantly opens and I taste him. Just one last time. The tears I’ve been fighting fall freely again and coat his thumbs and fingers on my cheeks. He groans into my mouth. It’s full of pain and torture and my own sob is ripped from my throat. We swallow each other’s pain until James finally pulls away.

  His eyes are so close to mine and his fingers tighten on my cheeks. “If you change your mind, at any time…I will be here.”

  My hands cover his and I push them off me, instantly feeling the loss. “I won’t, and I don’t expect you to wait for me.”

  But God, the thought of him with someone else. With Becky. I flinch as the pain stabs my chest.

  His forehead falls to mine. “Don’t you get it, Laurie? You’re all there ever will be for me. I just…”

  “Stop.” I shake my head and step away, dropping his hands. “We’ve been over this. Please. I can’t.”

  “I know.” He steps back until he’s at his suitcase, never once taking his eyes off mine. “But don’t forget, either.”

  I roll my lips together, staying silent.

  “Goodbye, Laurie.”

  My eyes squeeze shut. It’s so final. His voice so dead.

  I hate it. Wish it could be different.

  But it can’t.

  I nod as he turns away, not saying the same thing to him because my throat has closed and I can’t speak without crying anymore. I stay in the kitchen until the door to the garage closes behind him. I stay there, staring out the small window above the sink, tears falling down my cheeks once again as I hear the outer door raise, the sound of his truck starting and pulling out, and jump as I hear the garage door slam shut behind him as he pulls into the street.

  Away from the house we bought together.

  Away from me.

  “Yes!”

  My heart pounds inside my chest at his touch.

  His hand clasps both of my wrists together at the small of my back, giving me no option to move as he pounds into me from behind.

  Sweat drips from his forehead onto my back and I feel it roll down my spine. It cools my skin and overheats me at the same time.

  I love that he goes this crazy for me.

  “Laurie,” he groans, but the word rolls off his tongue like a disease.

  He doesn’t want me, yet he can’t help but take me.

  I love it. I want him to punish me. To use me.

  To destroy me.

  It’s all I’m worth after everything I’ve done.

  His balls slap my clit and his hips grind forcefully into me.

  He’s tearing me apart from the inside out as his chest scrapes against my back. The hair tickles and teases.

  His cock hits the end of me, deeper and deeper until I clamp around him.

  My orgasm takes me by surprise and I scream, throwing my head back. His hand moves to my shoulder and he continues fiercely wreckin
g me until his own groans of pleasure are released.

  Seated fully inside of me, his thick erection pulses as he releases.

  I can’t catch my breath.

  Wet drops fall from my eyes and my head collapses against the floor beneath me.

  My knees will carry the burns of our frantic union for days.

  I don’t even care.

  Slowly, my pulse slows and my heartbeat calms.

  Against my back, I feel his own breath coming in quickened pants until he pulls out.

  He leaves me, and I collapse onto the floor, covering my eyes so I can’t see him.

  I don’t need to see his eyes to know what he’s thinking.

  Coldness covers my skin as he walks away, leaving me alone in the dark.

  I have given myself to him over and over again because when he’s this close to me, I can’t help but cling to him.

  It’s ruining me and I no longer care.

  “Wild one,” he murmurs in the darkened room. “What the hell are you doing to me?”

  Patting my cheeks to cool them, I look at my reflection in the enclosed and confined elevator. My cheeks are still flushed from the dream that woke me, screaming and dripping in sweat, before the sun rose this morning.

  Knowing I wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep, I slowly crawled out of bed, my entire body feeling listless and slow.

  More decisions need to be made today, and the dreams I had over the weekend—in the few hours of sleep I did have—haven’t helped a thing.

  I can’t stop thinking of Liam, of his touch and his whispered words.

  He hates that he wants me and I don’t blame him.

  I hate him.

  Or I want to.

  It would make working for him easier.

  I brace myself as the doors chime and I step off the elevator. I have no idea when Liam is arriving, but I’ve been trying to mentally prepare myself for his arrival all morning.

  Based on my previous conversation with Anne on Friday, I don’t even know if she’s going to be in the office at all. She could have cleaned it out for all I know.

  I shake my head, frustrated with myself that I spent all weekend ignoring the constant chiming of my cell phone. I know she’s called, and I have a list of text messages from Talia that make me cringe worse than when my mother scolded me as a child.