Wronged Desires

by Lillian MacKenzie Rhine

  My focus shifted from him describing my physique to wondering why he had so much emphasis on the “someone else” comment. “If you must know Kem, I put on a few pounds after the divorce.” I had just hit him with his own personal kryptonite—the divorce. Kem and I could push the bounds of being somewhat friends, but talking about the dissolution of our marriage was off-limits. “I mean, I’ve been a little thick in the hip area all my life, so I figured since I have a lot of time on my hands outside of work that I should use it constructively. Not that it’s any of your business anyway.”

  “There is nothing wrong with your rounded hips and thighs. I happen to love the curvature of a woman and you fit the mold of perfection. Greek goddesses had the rightful shape of a woman. Like Nan said, ‘If it ain’t broken, don’t fix it, Babygirl.’” Growling on the inside, I swallowed the final drops of my cinnamon swirl infused milk, scooting against Kem to the edge of the booth with my hip. He stood to let me out but grabbed me by the wrist.

  “What’s wrong, Vic? You called me here, so why the running away all of a sudden?”

  “It was a mistake that I called you here. You know what the problem is, Kem? We’ve been divorced for nine whole months now and you have yet to accept it.” My arm dropped to my side as he released my wrist, which skyrocketed my blood pressure. “That’s the problem right there, Kem. It’s time to accept that I, Victoria not Babygirl, am not your wife anymore to impose your opinions upon. My body is no longer made for you, it’s mine all mine. And stop using my grandmother to play on my emotions. You must stop it and get on with your life. It’s truly sad.” His typical sparkling green eyes had dulled with a weariness that pierced my heart. He nodded and trudged out of the bakery. I stood stupefied, realizing I had yet again broken his heart. Dammit, Victoria! You and your awfully blunt big mouth!

  His white Bentley coupe sped out of the parking lot like a lightning flash through my gut as it registered I would be rooming with the most depressed man in the world for the next month. I’m batting a thousand this week. I snatched my purse from the table and waved to the staff as I headed to my roadster, fortifying myself before driving off in the direction of the storm.

  As I entered the gates, I waved at the guard doing his scheduled rounds, then parked in my usual spot directly outside the front door. Surprisingly, Kem was not there which gave me a chance to grab something from the fridge and head to my sanctuary hoping to avoid him until the next morning. Given that it was still quite early, I grabbed a few slices of rotisserie chicken breast, a haphazardly thrown together side salad, and an unopened bottle of Moscato. When I got to my room, I set the tray of food on the chocolate-colored oversize chair next to the fireplace. It dawned on me that due to the round the clock meetings of the day before and the personal day taken, I had yet to do any work of value that week. Blowing out an irritated sigh, I decided to leave the relaxation until later and do a little figure jogging on my laptop.

  Most days I would do work-related projects in my uncomfortable living room or on rare occasions my home office only to keep me from being too relaxed in my bed while working. Considering I was in stealth invisible mode, avoiding Kem, I opted to work in my room behind a closed door. I headed down the corridor to retrieve my computer from the living room and spotted Kem in the kitchen rifling through the refrigerator. Damn, I didn’t hear him come in. I shuffled past the opening quickly, spotted my laptop, and commenced to nab it when I heard him. “Victoria.” I stood motionless, wanting to become invisible when he asked, “Can I talk to you for a sec?” Double damn!

  I tucked my laptop under my arm, stepping in front of the firing squad in the kitchen. “Sure, Kem, what’s up?” I took a seat at the island, watching him slide the bottle of water back and forth between his hands on the marble countertop.

  “Look, Vic, I understand where you’re coming from. I know you’ve moved on and that’s fine. I’m happy that you’re happy. Trust me, I’m not pining over you and our marriage anymore, I just worry about you at times.” He looked into my eyes with the last statement.

  “Why are you worried about me? I’m doing fine, business is going well, and if you haven’t noticed I’m living in the lap of luxury,” I stated, releasing a nervous laugh at myself.

  “When I say I’m worried about you, Vic, I mean emotionally. Basically the only person you had was Nan, then me. When I took our vows, I promised not only God but Nan that I would provide and protect you for life.”

  Sighing at the speech, I blurted, “Kem, I’m fine. I don’t need you to take care of me. Making a promise in that moment doesn’t mean that I’m choosing to accept that now. You should focus on caring for yourself, Kem, then maybe you can get back out there in the world and find the one for you.”

  “I’m not worried about crap like that, Vic,” he admitted with an undertone of bitterness in his voice. “I have other things I need to focus on right now.”

  “Is that right, Kem? What do you need to focus on? Me?” He dropped his line of sight to the countertop. “Why worry about me now, Kem? You weren’t worried when you were away on business. Definitely not thinking about me when I started to get prank calls from random females. You know what, this conversation is over. I need to salvage my day.”

  Before I could swivel off the stool, he stated just above a whisper, “You know deep down that I would never cheat on you, Vic.” I rolled my eyes, retreating toward my room.

  I shut my bedroom door, then a loud slam of the front door made me jump after I turned off the television. I ripped off my work clothes, then slumped into my Egyptian cotton dressed bed in nothing but my black lace bra and panties receiving the soothing effect of my exposed skin to the comforts of a high thread count. How dare he say he is worried about me? I’ve been doing well for myself since the divorce, and I don’t need him or a therapist to keep up the good work. Brushing off the discussion, I cracked open my laptop, gasping in defeat when I viewed the forty plus e-mails waiting in my in-box for that day alone. Disappointedly, none were from Sandra, but my goal was to successfully push my worries for her to the back of my mind until I saw her at work the next time.

  Rubbing my neck, sinking deeper into my bed, I released the pent-up tension in my tight muscles. Promised to protect and provide, he makes me sick thinking he has to save me. My blood pressure began to rise at the irritation he tended to cause then it faded and I soon began to giggle. Kemington Sutter vowed to protect and provide, hmph, he made that vow way before the wedding, I thought, chuckling at the memories. To think we started dating when we were nineteen. I’d never experienced a lot of activities teens did at younger ages, but Kem promised to change that. Hell, I hadn’t even ridden a bike before, now that I think of it. Grandma was more interested in soaps and church than sports and bike rides.

  I chuckled at myself, looking at the mantel over the fireplace in the master suite. The pictures of me riding a bike fully clad in pads and a helmet were placed there before the divorce, but now only a decorative midnight blue candle stood on the ledge. Kem taught me how to ride in less than a few hours, but skateboarding was his thing and I wanted to be an expert at all the things that were Kemington Sutter. My first day on the unsteady skateboard, I was able to balance myself long enough to coast on level ground. He was crazy enough to take me to a skate park near campus, and of course I face-planted on my first run. Poor Kem was on the phone with the 911 operator within seconds thinking I had a concussion. Yes he was my protector, but he needs to stop so he can focus on healing from the divorce. Returning back to reading my e-mails, I stated to myself, “Who am I kidding? That man will never stop protecting and sure as hell won’t stop providing until the day he dies.”

  I fell asleep in front of the glowing screen of my laptop. The room was pitch-black and my stomach was speaking in obscenities for not nourishing it. I bypassed the tray of food that had been sitting out all evening, instead opting for the new carton of Groom’s Cake Ice Cream. I sauntered into the kitchen and obtained a spoon for my heavenly
treat. No need for a bowl right? As I leaned my hip against the counter, I slid a heaping spoonful in when I heard his chortle coming from the dark corner that housed the breakfast nook. I flicked the lights, screeching when I saw Kem in all his green-eyed, inked biceps, shirtless glory.

  “What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark?” I screamed at him.

  “The same thing you’re doing standing over there in that sexy little lacy set,” he laughed licking the tip of his tongue into a spoon of ice cream and causing my thighs to warm. In sheer terror, I glanced down to see that I was still in my bra and panties, and screeched again. Setting the ice cream container on the counter, I ran to my room with him shouting, “It’s not like I haven’t seen it before, or tasted it for that matter.” Growling in disgust, I slid an oversize T-shirt over my head and headed back to my untraditional dinner.

  I returned to the kitchen where a bowl of ice cream with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, and chopped nuts met me. “Peace offering.” I crossed my arms, hating the arrangement of him living in my house, but knew I would be a fool to deny a bowl of ice cream loaded with all the good stuff. I slid onto the bench and dug into the frozen treat while looking at the man sitting across from me. His face was starting to show the appearance of a beard and his typically trimmed hair was falling across his brow. Still taut in all the right places, his tattooed biceps and forearms were his claim to fame with women eager to be in his company.

  “You’re looking a little rough these days Mr. Sutter. Haven’t had a haircut in a while? A good shave?” I taunted, sucking the chilled cream from my spoon.

  “I’m not as focused on those cosmetic things now,” he admitted.

  “Says the man who needed to stay in a five-star hotel while his beachfront house is being fumigated,” I chuckled.

  “Hey, comfort is comfort. Either I stay in an elite hotel, or I stay where my home is.”

  “You know this isn’t your home anymore, right?” He looked into my eyes as I was failing terribly at holding in my laugh.

  “That’s what she said,” he joked, making me break out in thunderous laughter. I nudged him in the shoulder. “I can’t stand you. Such the kidder.”

  “Seriously, the last time I saw my parents, my mother nearly sent for an emergency barber when she saw my hair growing long. She said I looked like an animal.” He swept the lengthy strands from his brow, looking gorgeously innocent.

  “How are your parents doing Kem?” I really didn’t care how they were doing but I felt the question was appropriate at the moment.

  He grinned. “It’s been a minute, to be exact three months, since I saw them last. They haven’t been supportive since I took my personal position during our divorce proceedings.” I grinned and nodded, remembering how they wanted to ruin me while Kem was dead-set against it. “Yes, it was a tough time for you, but I thank you for all that you did on my behalf. To be honest, I would have been all right with or without your support. I really didn’t want to be the cause of the Sutter family rift.”

  He leaned toward me causing a rush of heated blood to swell my veins and warm my insides. “You were my family, Vic, and I foolishly caused the divide in that unit. I know it’s too late to fix it now, but I realize that I wasn’t present even though my heart was. When you asked for the divorce, a part of me wanted to fight you to change your decision, but, in the end I wanted to give you anything you wished for. Believe me when I say I never set out to hurt you. To be honest, you’ve fared a hell of a lot better than me. I hurt myself in the end by losing the only thing that gave me life.” With that he got up, deposited his bowl in the dishwasher, and headed out of the kitchen.

  I watched him leave. Shaking away the empathy growing in my soul, I put my bowl in the sink and headed to my room. I curled into bed with the knowledge that his admission of his faults would keep me listless and awake all night.

  Chapter Three

  I walked into the office the next morning clad in sunglasses that covered more than half my face, a black pantsuit with black strappy heels, briefcase under one arm, and an awful service-station cup of java in the other hand. I saw Sandra leaning against her desk with a large cup of the good stuff and muffins. She approached me with the biggest shining smile on her face, leaving me dazed and confused. She grabbed my coffee and replaced it with my favorite yummy goodness, then ushered me into my office.

  “Sandra,” I muttered shuffling toward my desk out of habit.

  “Look, Victoria, no words, okay?” She paused, her eyes pleading with me. “No words.”

  I smiled, silently agreeing to forget the entire ordeal. “So what’s up Sandra? Why are you so peppy today?”

  Practically bouncing out of her shoes, she started to talk a mile a minute. “Carlos came home last night unexpectedly. Since he was home I decided to make chiles rellenos, one of his favorites. Even after dinner, his mood remained sour, which, as you know, is the usual when he has been on the road for weeks at a time. I’d been feeling under the weather for almost a week now, so this morning I delivered the news to Carlos while he ate his breakfast.” What news? I thought. She paused, leaving me hanging.

  “Well, what is it?” Her pronounced smile was going to crack her small oval face if she continued to hold in the news.

  “Carlos and I are having a baby! I’m pregnant, Victoria!” I paused for a moment to let the news soak in, and then I stood up and screamed at the top of my lungs. One of the other executive assistant’s poked her head into the office, probably thinking something was wrong, but soon she realized that we were having a celebration. Sandra giggled.

  “Sorry,” I stated to the assistant, trying hard to hold in my excitement. The woman left and I ran to Sandra’s side. “Are you telling me that I’m going to be an auntie? Wait, what about that glass of wine?”

  “What bottles of wine?” Sandra had a confused look on her face.

  “When I was at your house, I saw two bottles of Merlot sitting out. I figured that you drank them both.”

  Sandra began to chuckle, “No. I didn’t drink both of those bottles. I love the taste of wine but I’m not a lush, Victoria. There was only a sip left in both bottles, so I had to combine them to make half a glass. I’ll ask my doctor about it, but from all the books that I’ve have read, a glass won’t hurt the baby.”

  “Yes, I guess you’re right,” I said. “I cannot believe you are pregnant. I’m so excited for you.” She nodded, and we both jumped up and down, squealing like little mice. “Oh my God, there is so much to do and plan. How long do you think we have before the little one gets here?” I asked rubbing her belly area.

  “Um, I have an appointment tomorrow morning to see how far along I am.” She cracked a nervous smile, then changed the subject. “So you have a meeting in thirty and some budgets to review, considering someone played hooky yesterday.” I rolled my eyes and turned back to my desk. Sandra left, closing the door behind her. Wow, a baby. Hmph, who would have thought. Strange thing is, I still feel weird about her situation. Why didn’t she want to talk about things? It’s evident that Carlos remains in a foul mood and state of mind. He better not stress her out in this sensitive time in her life. Shrugging, I started my preparations for the meeting, thinking positive about the special delivery on the way.

  After my meeting, I approached Sandra’s desk. “Hey, you want to go to Corner Deli for lunch?”

  “Sure. We can go right now if you want,” she stated, gathering her purse.

  We arrived in the thick of the downtown Dallas business lunch crowd. Corner Deli was our spot to eat lunch while at work. Their veggie subs were to die for and I was definitely craving one. Sandra stepped up to the counter, looking over the menu. “I’d like the roast beef croissant with extra au jus, jalapeño chips, and a mango smoothie.” When she turned to let me have my turn at ordering, I couldn’t help but scowl at her.

  “What?” she muttered.

  “Beef, jalapeño, and mango? Bleh! The life of a pregnant woman,” I stated shaking my
head at her horrendous choice in flavor combinations.

  We soon received our orders and decided to sit outside in the nice weather. Sandra grinned, looking at my salad and bottle of water. “You have the nerve to criticize my choices. A salad, Victoria, really? Where’s the butter garlic hoagie roll filled to the brim with vegetables?” she taunted.

  “Hey, if you’re going to try something different, then so am I. Plus I went to Nate’s Café yesterday and split a cinnamon roll. Not to mention the late night ice cream dinner.” I mumbled the last bit under my breath.

  “Wow a cinnamon roll and ice cream. What a way to blow all those months in the gym.” I gawked at her insensitive statement. “It’s true, Victoria. You said you wanted to trim up after the divorce, and now you’re blowing it to hell,” she stated bluntly, biting into her sandwich.

  “I don’t think one day of indulgence will affect my progress.” She shrugged, tending to her meal.

  “Hold on, you said you split a cinnamon roll. So were you with someone?” she asked with interest. I hunched over my food allowing my bangs to cover my expressive eyes that would tell the tale. “Victoria!” Each syllable of my name made me want to shrink away into a dark hole. “Kem?” Sandra started shaking her head and I turned my line of sight to the bustling business suits walking outside. “Oh no, Victoria. Do not ignore me, missy. Kemington Sutter split a cinnamon roll with you yesterday?”

  “And loaded up a bowl of ice cream for me last night,” I mentioned under my breath twiddling my fingertips.

  “Victoria,” she shouted. “What is going on between you two? And why is he at your house?”

  “Some repairs are being made to the beach house, so he figured he would force his way into the house,” I stated.