Without Regret

by Aubrey Bondurant

  “Jesus, Em.” He did his best to put his hand between my head and the porcelain, cushioning the blow as best he could. He then used his other arm to lift up my body for the perfect angle to hit my G-spot over and over.

  “You feel so good like this. Let me feel you come.”

  Damn. I let my fingernails rake his back, hearing his grunt at the point my climax hit. “Trev—”

  “I’m right there with you, honey. I can feel you. Feel you coming all over my cock.”

  His hot release came deep inside of me, along with great satisfaction regarding this new intimacy. Trevor’s lips met mine again, this time the kiss shifted from the frenzy of earlier into a languid, emotional connection.

  Finally pulling back, he moved to help me up from the uncomfortable position and then to my feet. “You okay?”

  I rubbed the spot on the back of my head that had been banging on the lip of the tub. “I think so.”

  He landed a kiss on top of my hair. “Sorry, beautiful. Give me a second, and I’ll start the shower for you.”

  He stepped out of the tub and turned on the water for the shower, also finding some towels for me to step on so I wouldn’t slip. Always a perfect gentleman.

  And while I got into the shower, of course he cleaned up the water off the floor. And if I hadn’t already thought I was falling for him, the fact that he left and came back in with a towel he’d warmed in the dryer for me sealed it.

  “My mom used to do this for me and my sister when we were little. Nothing better than a warm towel when you’re coming out of a shower.”

  Thump, thump. I was falling. Hard. It had to be love. What other emotion left you happy, while at the same time wanting to puke.

  “You okay?” He looked concerned.

  I nodded. “I don’t remember much about my mum. Never knew my dad.”

  His thumb reached out, wiping a tear I hadn’t realized had broken free.

  “Come here.” He led me out to my bed, settling me on his lap so we were face to face.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to just blurt that out.”

  He shook his head. “I’m glad you did. Why didn’t you know your mom?”

  I took a deep breath. “She gave me up when I was a toddler. I found out years later she was a prostitute who’d gone clean and then relapsed, so she was unable to take care of me. I was with a foster family, then taken in for adoption. I was with them for a few months, but once the couple found out they were expecting a child of their own, they stopped the adoption process and returned me. I was four when I went back into the foster system. Six more foster families over the years. Never adopted. Finally aged out at eighteen.”

  In his eyes was a measure of sympathy along with unwavering support. “That must’ve been tough.”

  “It’s something no child should have to go through.” I wanted to say more. Such as explaining this was the reason I had a difficult time with relationships. That I’d never been loved. And couldn’t figure out how to trust I could be. But I couldn’t find the words.

  “I take it Simon knows.”

  “Yes. He’s the only other person.”

  He entwined his hand with mine. “I’m glad you told me. I want to learn everything about you.”

  “Even the bad?”

  He kissed the inside of my wrist in an intimate gesture which stole my breath. “Especially that.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s the bad that makes the connection more real. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”

  I bit my lip. “It’s a front most of the time.”

  “I don’t believe that. What you’ve accomplished and done with your life, despite your rough beginning, is remarkable.”

  “Thank you.” I believed it might have had more to do with luck.

  His fingers stroked down under the towel to my hip, over my tattoo. “What does this symbol actually mean?”

  I swallowed hard, never having revealed what it meant to anyone. “It means strong. I got it when I first moved to New York. Inspiration, I suppose.”

  “Fitting.”

  His smile signified how much it meant to him that I’d shared it. Too bad most days I didn’t believe I was strong. “I don’t have a university degree.”

  “All a degree means is that you had the financial means and put forth the effort to get it. Steve Jobs, Paul Allen, and Henry Ford all didn’t graduate from college.”

  I laughed. “Do you memorize these things?”

  He grinned. “I researched it when I was ready to quit school a number of times in order to defend the decision to my father.”

  “But you didn’t quit.”

  “No. Part of the reason I stuck with it was my friend and roommate, Mason. We both saw college as a means to an end. And we chose to do more than just the typical college stuff.”

  I was happy the subject was switching to him. “Tattoos, piercings, and motorcycles.”

  His lips met mine. “Thank goodness. I guess rebelling in those small ways made me feel as if I remained in control of my future despite the fact I was checking the boxes for a degree like my father wanted.”

  “And graduate school? Why did you go to Harvard?”

  “Once Mason went off to the Marines directly after undergrad, I felt lost, to tell you the truth. We’d done everything together for the previous four years. Since I hoped to get into real estate, I figured getting my MBA would give me the credentials I’d need at some point. Plus, it got me out of Texas, something I’d been anxious to try. But business school didn’t come natural to me. I much prefer looking at blueprints and having a hand in building something to crunching numbers and managing my portfolio.”

  These were some of the qualities that made me so attracted to him. “When do you think you’ll pursue that dream?”

  He shrugged. “It’s on my list for things to accomplish before I turn thirty. We’ll see if it happens. What about you? What’s your dream?”

  A vivid memory hit me from when I’d been five. One of the other kids had told me about ‘wishing on a star.’ So I had. The same wish every night for the next few years. Yet it hadn’t come true. Nobody had ever loved me.

  I’d started to believe only fools suffered dreams and had shifted to thinking about goals instead of wishes. Survival had been the mantra. Day to day, sometimes meal to meal. When you’re trying to survive, you don’t entertain dreams. “I don’t know what my dream is.”

  “Because?”

  It was as if he already knew my answer. “Because dreams don’t come true.”

  “Says who?”

  I sighed. “At least they never did for me. Maybe I’ve been afraid to try again.”

  “Perhaps it’s time to be unafraid.”

  Easier said than done. If I hadn’t been worthy when I’d been a sweet and innocent child, now as an adult with a multitude of regrets, I definitely wasn’t. “There are things I’ve done I’m not proud of. Things I wish I could erase.” Including most of the men I’d ever been with.

  He simply looked at me. “Don’t you think it’s time you stop punishing yourself for them?”

  I sucked in a breath. He was more perceptive then I’d realized. He was correct that I’d perfected the art of self-loathing over the years. I felt as though I deserved bad things to happen to me. But I’d never been wanted by anyone like Trevor. He appeared to understand a lot more than I’d ever revealed to anyone. “I want to.”

  He cupped my face as if understanding and then appeared the most serious I’d ever seen him. “I won’t hurt you, Emma.”

  “How can you promise that?”

  “Because I just know. And it may take some time for you to believe it, but I have every intention of proving it to you.”

  For the first time, all I could think about was how I wanted that, too. Now I just had to try trusting him without worrying about the other shoe dropping.

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  Emma

  I woke up the next morning feelin
g lighter. As Simon had maintained, giving Trevor a piece of my past had relieved me of this heaviness I’d been carrying. I wasn’t sure where this relationship was heading, but staying in Dallas and being with him filled me with a sense of hope I’d never had before.

  I was at the office early, happy it was Friday and excited for the weekend. Trevor and I planned to drive up to Austin, where he’d gone to university, so he could show me around. I looked forward to learning more about him and maybe seeing where he’d gotten his tattoo.

  “Where is Simon?” Tom inquired, coming into the office as though he owned the place.

  I’d only just arrived, but I thought it obvious Simon wasn’t here yet. “I don’t know.”

  “Perhaps he’s with Trevor. Do you think they’re comparing notes about you?”

  One of Tom’s favorite digs missed the mark by a mile every time. In his mind, Simon and I had at some point been romantic. He wouldn’t be the first to assume that. Now he was hoping I would bite. I didn’t.

  “What do you want, Tom?” I was exasperated by him. And repulsed. Although eight years ago I could’ve called him handsome, I no longer considered him so. Funny how much the character of a person could make one ugly.

  “Interesting question. What do I want? It’s simple, really. You on your knees sucking me off would be a good starter.” He leaned in for a whisper. “Just for old time’s sake.”

  Memories of being nineteen and eager to please him came flooding back, making me gag. Of course I hadn’t known Tom was married when he’d started to show interest. I’d gone willingly into his tangled web of deceit. So eager for attention, so young, and so fucking stupid.

  “Not happening. And we had a deal.” He was never to bring up our past with me or anyone else in exchange for me not telling his wife about me or the dozens of other women with whom he’d cheated on her over the years.

  “Your threats about telling my wife won’t work with me anymore. At this point, she could find out that I slept my way through half of Manhattan and it won’t change the divorce settlement. So the question is what incentive do I now have for keeping secrets, sugar.”

  The way Tom dropped the term of endearment only Trevor used made my skin crawl. But worse was the realization that he no longer had a motive for keeping his mouth shut about our past. “What do you want?”

  He moved closer, causing me to stiffen. I flinched when his hand covered mine and snatched it back as though I’d been burned.

  “I want you back in my bed. And you want Trevor working here. No reason for him to find out our dirty secret. Just one more you’re keeping from him.”

  Acid burned down the back of my throat. I doubted Tom had the influence with his uncle to get Trevor fired, but I didn’t doubt he’d attempt it. “Are you trying to blackmail me?”

  His smirk made me envision punching it off his face. “Such a dirty word. You used to be much more creative with them.”

  “What’s going on here?” Trevor’s voice boomed from the doorway, making both Tom and me jump.

  I swallowed hard, watching the man I loved try to take in the scene. No doubt my face was white and Tom’s was smug. He spoke first.

  “I was simply offering Emma a choice. One I want her to think long and hard about right this very moment.”

  And then it occurred to me. This had been Tom’s plan all along. To be able to tell Trevor about us. To watch his words destroy the new relationship we’d been building.

  “Emma?” Trevor saying my name made me wish I could shrink into the floor.

  Instantly, I regretted not having confided in him last night about my worst mistake. I’d thought to protect him, believing if he knew about me sleeping with Tom eight years ago, their working relationship would be compromised. I’d naively thought Tom wouldn’t bring it up for fear his own marriage would be affected. But I’d been wrong.

  For better or worse, the choice to tell Trevor now was taken out of my hands when Simon came out of his office. He surprised us all.

  His jaw was clenched, his gaze focused on Tom. “What’s going on seems to be Tom giving Emma a choice between sleeping with him or letting him go to his uncle and ruin your career prospects at the Stone Group. That’s what I overheard, right, Tom?”

  My eyes went wide, trying to rewind and figure out what Simon would’ve overheard.

  Tom turned bright red.

  I didn’t expect Trevor to launch himself at Tom with a well-placed punch to his face. “You son of a bitch.”

  Oh, God. I was going to be sick. The sound of his fist hitting flesh echoed in the room.

  I went and put my hand on his arm. “Trevor, no more. Please stop.” I had visions of Tom pressing charges. Of Trevor ruining his career all because of me. “He’s not worth it.”

  Neither was I. Especially since Trevor and Simon didn’t know the entire story.

  He finally looked at me. “You’re right. He’s not worth it.”

  We all watched Tom grip his reddening jaw with his eyes focused on me. “Again.”

  “What?” Trevor asked while dread seeped into my gut.

  “I was trying to get her to sleep with me again. Simon missed that crucial part in his eavesdropping.”

  I could see it. The moment it all registered on Trevor’s face. The confusion, then the pain when he realized I couldn’t refute Tom.

  “And if anyone is not worth it, it’s this gutter slut who obviously didn’t tell you the truth about her past.”

  “You’re lying,” Trevor challenged.

  “Am I? Ask her.”

  “Is it true? You were with this piece of shit?” Trevor’s voice was full of disbelief, his incredulous gaze on me.

  Tom spoke before I could form words. “I have a nice parting gift, a faded tattoo that after many rounds of removal attempts still remains on my shoulder, if you want to see it. Although perhaps another time as I have a phone call to make. Your career is done, Trevor. Kiss your hopes of ever working with Phillip and the Stone Group goodbye with your coming assault charge.”

  Having Trevor find out this way was horrible, but hearing Tom gloat about taking away Trevor’s career made me absolutely sick. But not as sick as watching the man I loved turn blazing eyes on me.

  I had an entire defense ready. That I’d been nineteen. I’d been stupid and naïve and had regretted it for years. But the only thing making it past my lips was “Yes. It’s true.”

  Trevor took a shuddering breath before turning on his heel and leaving. Out of my life completely.

  It wasn’t until I tasted the salt I realized tears were streaming down my face.

  ***

  While Tom followed Simon into his office, where I could now hear him shouting, I slipped out. But not before typing up a letter of resignation and emailing it to my boss and friend of the last seven years. I couldn’t put him in a position to choose between me and the relationship with Phillip upon which he’d built his career. And I refused to work with Tom again. I could only hope that once I was out of the picture perhaps Trevor would be able to keep his job.

  One thing that was clear was that it was over with him. I’d seen it in his eyes. The disappointment, the judgment—and worst of all, the rejection. My worst fear, coming true.

  Although Tom had always been a prick, I couldn’t have predicted today. At the end of our two-week affair over eight years ago, I’d confronted him upon learning he was married. His reply had been I wasn’t good enough ever to play first chair in a relationship and should feel lucky as a side piece.

  After ending things with Tom, I’d gone on to work exclusively for Simon. I’d put Tom in my review mirror and thought never to see him, except for the occasional office encounter. Then, out of the blue, he’d asked to be assigned to Simon’s acquisition team. I absolutely loathed having to work with him, but the thought of leaving Simon and a job I’d actually come to like had overridden the distaste of having to deal with Tom while we were on-site for a deal. It would only involve a few days a month, I’
d reasoned.

  We’d had a come-to-Jesus moment early on. I’d persuaded him to keep his mouth shut if he didn’t want his wife finding out about his extracurricular activities. Despite his digs over the years I’d had to work with him, I’d vowed I wouldn’t let him have the power to affect me again. Unfortunately, it turned out he could do something worse than what he’d already accomplished, breaking my self-worth back when I’d been nineteen. He could shatter my heart by ruining my relationship with Trevor.

  After I arrived back at my flat, I numbly went through the motions of booking a flight, packing up my things, and trying not to look at the empty parking spot where Trevor’s truck should be. I waited until the last possible second before ordering an Uber to take me to the airport, hoping he might come over or ring me. He didn’t. Not even after I sent him a text that simply said:

  “I’m sorry.”

  I let the tears fall until my luggage was loaded into the back of the Uber. That’s when I made myself stop. I’d started over before. I’d do it again. And where better than in New York City? Where my life had begun once, it would begin anew. I had enough in savings that I didn’t have to work right away if I didn’t want to. I could take my time in finding another job. Although Simon would be upset about me leaving, he’d surely be relieved he wouldn’t have to explain this to Phillip. I hoped Simon would still be able to work with Tom.

  By the time I was on the flight, I’d actually started to convince myself this was all for the best. Both Trevor and Simon were better off with me out of their lives. And I was incredibly relieved I’d never have to see Tom again. Five hours later, when the car pulled up in front of the corporate apartment I used whenever I was in New York, I waited for the comfort to hit me. Because the city should be soothing. The obscurity amid a society of strangers should’ve given me a reassurance I could reinvent myself.

  So then, why did it feel so lonely? Why did the flat, with its gray walls, nondescript furniture, and view into Times Square, seem like a prison cell? I dropped my things where I stood at the threshold and let the sudden sob consume me before crumpling to the floor in a complete overload of emotions.