“You, Juliette Walker, mean the world to me and to Sasha. So does Tristan. Which means, for the next couple of weeks, you will let us do this. Until we have a handle on what Rob is doing, which hopefully is nothing but laying low. Because we love you. Got it?”
Shit. I stepped back and let out a shuddered breath. All of the fight immediately had left me with his words. “Oh, sure, make me cry in the hotel lobby, you jerk.” There was absolutely no heat to my words, but it had the desired effect when he grinned. I smiled back.
Sasha stepped in, dabbing her own tears and giving me a hug, too. Then they did what any good friends would do, which was to make me laugh during lunch and forget about any worry over my soon-to-be-ex-husband.
I didn’t see Mark until that evening when he knocked on my door. He appeared hesitant to come in when I opened it.
“Are you mad?” he asked right away.
Sighing, I appreciated that the question showed he was taking ownership of blabbing to Brian about Rob making bail. “Of course not. He would’ve found out by lunch anyways.”
Mark didn’t look relieved. “But what about the part with the PI?”
I quirked a brow but turned quickly when Tristan came running towards us.
He had eyes only for Mark. “Mark, Mark.”
The object of his affection lifted him up immediately onto his hip, thus ensuring I couldn’t show my annoyance regarding what he was about to tell me.
“I um, may have suggested it. And so you’re aware, if Brian hadn’t insisted on picking up the tab, then I would have.”
Tristan chose that moment to hug him tight as if to pledge his unwavering allegiance.
“That’s very generous, but wouldn’t everyone have wondered why you were paying for my PI?” I’m not sure why I lobbed my question out there, but I found myself curious to hear his answer. I was disappointed when it came.
“Yeah. I suppose I didn’t think of that.”
“Do you want to come in? I’m about to bathe Tristan.”
“Sure thing.” He turned towards my son. “What kind of toys do you have? Any rubber duckies?”
And just like that, Mark became an integral part of bath time.
***
On Wednesday night Haylee came over for our usual dinner night. This time it was lasagna, which I showed her how to prepare. When we sat down, she took a bite and sighed with bliss.
“I’m definitely making this for Josh.”
“You’re definitely taking the rest of it home because you made this one.”
She shook her head, but I wasn’t having it.
“If you leave that pan with me, I won’t eat it. I’m trying to cut down on carbs.” Even in saying it, I was shoving garlic bread into my face. “You know, starting next Monday.”
She laughed. “Well, he’ll really enjoy it for Friday dinner, not to mention be shocked I made it.”
“You could come over tomorrow after class if you want to make dessert, too.”
“Thanks, but I have an appointment with Dr. Mac tomorrow.”
Simply the mention of the good doctor brought on guilt since I still hadn’t managed to call him.
As if reading my mind, she said, “I’m sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable by bringing him up. I promise I’m not pushing him on you.”
“No, no, I know that. I think it’s more about my guilt with recognizing I could probably use someone to talk to and have no excuse for not reaching out.” But if I ever wanted to get past my insecurities, maybe it was time. And though Rob was doing very little, according to Andy who’d been tailing him, the fact that he was out on bail put me on edge. It was as though I was waiting for something to happen but not knowing what form it would take.
“Whether you do choose to call him or not, I hope you know I’m always here if you want to talk.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that.”
“Oh, by the way, I have great news to tell you. I got accepted to Columbia in New York. I’ll start second semester. Josh was curbing his enthusiasm until I assured him it’s truly what I want. Now he couldn’t be happier. I have to say it feels as though a weight has been lifted. I swear, if I didn’t have you here during the week, I’d be going crazy. So I know transferring schools was the right decision.”
I was extremely happy for her while at the same time knowing I was creating an obstacle for myself by refusing to examine what was keeping me from my own personal happiness. It was time to talk with someone.
While I lay in bed later that night with my laptop, I finally got up the nerve to email Dr. Mac and requested a meeting with him at his convenience.
***
Mark came over the next evening for dinner. Over the last few nights, I’d missed him. He’d been in New York with Josh for work. And turns out I wasn’t the only one to have missed him because the moment he walked through the door, Tristan immediately wanted Mark to see his new Lego set.
Later, as we lay in the dark with him holding me close, our hands entwined, I blurted out my news. “I made an appointment with Dr. Mac for tomorrow.”
His hand squeezed mine, but I didn’t miss the way his body tensed up first. “That’s great.”
It was a big step for me to have made the appointment and also to admit it to someone. “Yeah. I’m a bit anxious, but I think it’ll be good.”
“Definitely. Do me a favor, though.”
“What’s that?”
“If you talk about us, do you mind not mentioning me by name?”
A gut punch would’ve felt better. “Sure. No problem.” My voice was strained, but he didn’t seem to pick up on it. Then I realized the only reason he wouldn’t want me to mention his name. Dr. Mac knew him.
“Do you see him?”
He let out a loud exhale before answering. “I used to. That’s why it would be strange to have you talking about me with him.”
But if he no longer saw him, what difference would it make? “Maybe I should meet with someone else, then.”
He pulled me in closer to him. “I can’t speak highly enough of Dr. Mac, so please don’t do that.”
Right. But don’t mention his name. No problem.
***
I cancelled. I couldn’t help it. Because if I intended to reveal all of my insecurities, I couldn’t be afraid I’d accidentally blurt out Mark’s name. After all, keeping things to myself wasn’t exactly my strong suit.
But if I was being honest, it was another excuse to be a big ole chicken. Cluck, cluck, cluck. So much for the Juliette 2.0 plan. If my failed diet and dropped math class were any indication, I’d be stuck on the 1.0 outdated version forever. Pity party of one here. But not for long because I couldn’t stand myself that way.
On Friday night I babysat Abby while Josh and Haylee enjoyed some couple time over homemade lasagna. It was hardly an imposition. Abby, now able to smile, could sit in her chair and watch Tristan play for hours. He, of course, loved being the center of her attention.
When the knock came at the door, I opened it to a grinning Mark. He took one look at Abby and hesitated.
“Oh, hey. I see you’re babysitting. Is Abby spending the night?”
“No. Haylee will probably come down in the next hour or so to get her. She’s still nursing, so…”
I let my words hang and watched his face flush with the TMI.
“Okay. So how about you text me after?”
Right. Because he didn’t want Haylee or Josh to know that he was hanging with us. Not even just for dinner and a movie. He certainly wouldn’t want to broadcast the news he was in a sexual relationship with me.
“Sure. Will do.”
He quirked a brow at my flat voice. “You okay?”
I forced a smile, not wanting to get into it in the hall and with two kids in the living room who needed their dinner. “Yeah. It’s all good.”
But it wasn’t. Not that I blamed him, but unfortunately, he was tapping directly into the very heart of my insecurity. I wasn’t good enough. He didn’t
want people knowing he was with me. Not even his therapist or best friends. The real problem though lie in the fact that I wasn’t even angry with him over it, which only highlighted how truly low was my self-esteem.
Shrugging it off for now, I pasted a smile on my face for the kids and went about getting their food ready.
Haylee picked up Abby by nine o’clock. With Tristan already down for the night, I was tempted to text Mark, but for what? Another darkened booty call where he left by morning?
I knew I was being unfair by calling it that, but damn if it wasn’t the way I felt right now. Since part of it was my own doing, I wasn’t sure how to explain it to him. But it turned out Mark texted me first.
“It’s getting late. Did you want me to come over?”
I read his words and finally typed out my reply. “Sorry. I have an English paper due and am pretty tired.” And moody, and if I wasn’t mistaken, about to start my period any day.
“Okay. Good luck on the paper.”
“Thanks.”
***
Luckily, it didn’t take much to avoid Mark the next week since he had to travel overseas. I realized until I could put my insecurity over him not wanting people to know about us in a box, it was better not to see him. With my mother coming into town this weekend, I had excuses ready.
My mom must have sensed the sadness in my voice the last time we spoke because of course she’d booked a flight right away for Friday after she got off work. I swear, a hug from her made everything better.
Almost.
Because I’d found out the day before that Rob had submitted a petition for visitation with Tristan. My attorney told me it was strategic, an attempt to show he was getting his shit together in time for his trial, but that didn’t matter. I was petrified. What if the petition was granted? Or worse, what if supervision wasn’t instituted, and he was allowed to take Tristan on his own? What if his new druggie girlfriend was around my child, too? The fear over what could happen literally clawed at my throat, making it hard to swallow.
Although I’d thought Mark would avoid me over the weekend since I had family in town, I found a text from him on Saturday night after Tristan had gone to bed.
“Can you sneak next door for a few minutes?”
I contemplated, and evidently my delay was too long for him to wait for a response. A soft knock sounded at the door.
My mother muted the television and glanced over at me. “Expecting company?”
“Um. Maybe.”
I got up and stepped outside of my door. He looked fresh from the shower and handsome as ever. I’d missed him, evidenced by the fact my body was leaning toward him without permission.
He didn’t hesitate, putting strong hands at my waist. “I’ve missed you, Jules.”
“I missed you, too.” It was the truth, pure and simple. Although I might be fighting the demons of my insecurities, I craved the way he made me feel when I was with him.
“Come over?” His lips dropped behind my ear, murmuring the words.
“Give me a second.” I poked my head back in.
My mom was lifting a brow. I wasn’t sure what she could hear.
“Uh, I just need to help Mark find some files across the hall. I won’t be long.”
The brow only went up another inch, most likely not buying my flimsy excuse at all. “Okay, honey. Take your time.”
When I went back into the hall, I saw his door open and him standing on the other side of the threshold. Glancing down at myself, I cringed. Too late, I realized that I was in a baggy T-shirt and even baggier sweat pants. No makeup and hair in a ponytail completed my signature weekend look.
But despite me thinking I was less than attractive, the moment I stepped foot inside his place, he was on me. A kiss so hot that it burned its way down to my toes greeted me, leaving me breathless. His hands wasted no time, splitting duties. One gripped my hair, holding me in place, while the other went under my waistband and straight to my center, finding me getting wetter by the moment.
“This is all I’ve thought about all week.”
A moan was my response when he slipped a finger inside of me. Then a squeak left my mouth when he hauled me up, gripping my ass and allowing my legs to wrap around his waist. He strode across the apartment into the bedroom. Surprisingly, the file cabinets had been moved against one wall and now a double bed stood on the other side.
He followed me down onto the mattress, only leaving me briefly to shut the door. Now the bedroom was nothing but shadows and moonlight. His anxious fingers removed my pants and thong while his lips wreaked havoc along the column of my neck. “I need to be inside of you.”
I shivered with his words. “I need that, too.”
My eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to watch his silhouette shed his clothing and put the condom on. He then climbed towards me where I’d scooted back on his bed. He settled between my thighs as my fingers skimmed down his powerful shoulders.
“Tell me you missed this cock.” His dirty words flamed my senses while he teased me with the crown, rubbing my clit with small circles.
“I did. I missed it so much.” My back arched when he entered me one inch at a time, as if savoring the moment.
“I love how much I fill you. How tight you are around me every time.”
I gasped when he rolled me over so I was on top of him.
He pulled the T-shirt over my head but left on my bra, for which I was grateful.
Arching back, I loved how he filled me completely and proceeded to ride him with abandon.
His hands gripped my hips, urging me along and setting the pace.
When his thumb centered on my clit, my moves became frantic as I chased my orgasm. He thrusted up, hitting a spot over and over, making my entire body shake with pent-up desire. “Mark.”
“Give it up to me. Let me feel your cunt squeeze me when you come.”
Never had that particular C-word turned me on, but the way he said it—I was done for. Completely. The icing on the cake was hearing him call out my name as if he couldn’t help himself while he came on one last thrust.
I lay there on top of him for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of his hands stroking my back and not in a hurry to break the connection of him inside of me. I whispered in the dark, “You got a bed.”
“Mm-hmm. Been sleeping here more often. Also, it’s a good cover for when Josh sees my car here overnight.”
His words were innocent enough, but once again, he’d plucked a nerve. He didn’t want anyone to be aware he was with me.
“I should probably get back.” I scrambled off the mattress, grateful for the shadows hiding my face. The last thing I wanted was for him to know I was upset. Unfortunately, my tone must’ve given me away.
“Is everything okay?”
“Sure. Why wouldn’t it be?” Damn. I’d gone for light and overshot, with my voice going up two octaves. Meanwhile, I shimmied into my clothes, fumbling around for my T-shirt on the floor.
He grabbed my wrist, tugging me back down with him on the bed. “Something is wrong. Tell me.”
I sighed heavily. “Nothing. If you don’t want my mom wondering if finding a file is a metaphor for something else, I need to go.”
My hand settled on my T-shirt, and I quickly put it over my head.
“Jules, talk to me.”
I couldn’t. What was there to say? That I was getting my feelings hurt by an arrangement upon which I’d put the boundaries? “It’s fine. Just a lot of stress with Rob being out. Plus, he filed a petition for visitation with Tristan.”
Mark cursed under his breath. “I’m sorry. Especially that I wasn’t here when you found out. What does the attorney say his chances are?”
“If he can pass a couple of drug tests, they’re reasonably good. It’s all part of his image overhaul, though, and not because he actually misses his son. And then I’m afraid of what it would mean if he’s granted unsupervised visits. Anyhow, I’ll do what I’ve always done. Wait and see what ha
ppens and try not to wish he’d simply disappear out of our lives for good.”
Whenever I had that thought, I felt guilty. After all, Rob was still Tristan’s father. Sometimes being the bigger person was tough.
“Are you talking with Dr. Mac in the meantime?” Mark got up from the bed, disposed of the condom, and quickly put his clothes back on.
“No, uh, I cancelled.”
“Why? Right now is when you probably need to talk to him the most. You have a lot on your shoulders.”
I didn’t need his judgment, especially since it was partially his fault I’d cancelled. “Yeah, well, I didn’t want to accidentally bring up your name. As previously demonstrated, keeping my mouth shut when I’m nervous isn’t exactly my strong suit. And since you’ve made it clear you’d hate for anyone to find out about our little fling, it’s probably for the best.”
Shit. I’d said too much. “I need to go.”
“Wait.” He followed me out into the living room, tugging on my arm and meeting my eyes. His frustration was evident in them.
“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I tried to let him off the hook.
“Like hell it is. Is this what you think? That this is a fling?”
“What else would you call it?”
He let go of me, his hand raking through his hair. “You know, when I told you I missed you, it wasn’t just about the sex. I missed talking to you, seeing Tristan, and—hell, I don’t know—being with you, whether it’s to watch a Disney movie or be deep inside of you.”
My lips parted, surprised by his admission and a little turned on.
“You’re the one who wanted the sex in the dark, me leaving by morning. I was only trying to keep within your boundaries. You set them.”
“You didn’t exactly give me any indication that you wanted anything else.”
He cursed under his breath again. “This—” He motioned between us. “Isn’t easy for me. Okay? I don’t know how to do it. And the fact that you’re still married and dealing with your estranged husband while we have mutual friends does not make it any simpler.”
Show Me Something Page 14