by Roya Carmen
I think about Weston’s words. It’s true, it does feel like it was beyond our control, this thing between us. It was so powerful, so sudden. I didn’t understand it. I certainly didn’t want it. I’ve read about it in books, seen it in movies, but I never thought it would happen to me — pure, unbridled lust.
A long time ago, my mother told me something. I didn’t quite understand it at the time. But the moment stuck with me, deep under my skin. I remember it so clearly, like it was just yesterday.
“Like a puppet on a string,” she said as she applied a coat of poppy red lipstick, her gaze reflected in a small vanity mirror. “You have absolutely no control over your emotions or your actions for that matter. There’s a higher power making you do things you don’t want to do.”
I wondered what things she was speaking of.
She blotted her mouth on a tissue, the way she used to always do. “I’m telling you, Mirella, passion is a pretty scary thing. Makes you do crazy things.”
I was only six at the time, but for some reason, the words stayed with me. Over the years, I’ve thought about them a lot, trying to understand my mother, understand her actions, piece together her life, and understand why she left us.
The first time I met Weston I almost understood what she had been telling me.
The angelic voice fills the room, the words foreign to me. I want to know what she’s saying. I want to know her story. The melody is so beautiful. I almost get completely lost in it.
I get up from the bed, make my way downstairs, grab my iPad and Google the English lyrics of Comme des enfants; the song about the woman loved by two men.
As soon as the screen with the lyrics pops up, I hear the door. I drag myself to the front entry hall, wondering if Gabe is bringing the girls back earlier than planned. But then…
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
I’m a part of him now.
My breath hitches when I see Weston standing there.
“I’m sorry we left off the way we did,” he tells me, his sleek European loafers scraping the stones of my walkway as he drags his foot back and forth.
“How did you get here so fast?” I ask, figuring it’s only been about thirty minutes since I hung up on him.
“I’ve been here this whole time,” he says, not quite looking at me. “I’ve been in my car, around the corner.”
I swallow hard. “You were there when you called me?”
He nods. “I like to park just over there,” he says, gesturing to the curve of the street, down our cozy cul-de-sac, “hoping to see you come out of your house, to catch a glimpse of you.”
I gulp, not quite knowing what to say. “That’s a little creepy, Weston.”
He smiles. “I know. I should stop. I think I’m starting to freak out your neighbors. They’ve been eyeing me suspiciously.”
I stare at him, slack-jawed. “Well, can you blame them?”
He looks off into the distance. He’s still standing there. I’ve yet to invite him in.
“I’ve told you, Mirella, I tend to obsess. I’m still completely infatuated with you.” he confesses. “But you know that already. I knew it was over between us, but now this baby changes things, I’d like to believe.”
“You can’t just stalk me like this, Weston.”
“I know…” he trails off, his beautiful eyes fixed on me. “Can I come in?”
I know this is not a terribly good idea, but as my mother said, “Passion makes you do crazy things.”
I take a step back, inviting him. I’m still not sure why he’s here. I don’t know what’s going to happen, what I’m doing, but the puppet master plays me masterfully.
My heart starts to beat fast as he closes the door behind him and I realize it’s just the two of us.
“Uh…come…in,” I stammer as I ask him, “Can I make you a cup of coffee?”
He tilts his head just ever so slightly, his gaze stuck to me. “No, Mirella. I don’t want a cup of coffee.”
My breathing is uneven, and I blow out a small breath, trying to steady it. “Are you sure?”
His gaze hasn’t left me. “Yes, Mirella. I’m positive.”
I start to feel faint, wanting to sit down, far away from him. “Why are you here?”
He pulls me to him with a soft touch of my wrist, closing the distance between us, “You know why.”
I feel a pressure build, deep below. “Weston…” He gets to me, despite the fact that I don’t want him to. He’s the puppeteer.
He pulls me in. He makes me react.
With his words.
I lift a hand, take a step, and tilt my head.
“You’re the one, Mirella. You’re the one who is right for me. I don’t want anyone else.” A warmth washes over me as he trails his finger along my collarbone, tracing the neckline of my sheer blouse.
With his touch.
The sensation travels to the back of my neck, my skin drowning in tingles. I close my eyes. My body wants to go forward but my mind tells me to stop. I swallow, trying to build up some resolve. “I can’t do this,” I tell him. “I’m waiting for Gabe. I’m waiting for him to come back to me.”
I feel his body stiffen. “But will he?” he asks.
“I know he’s moved out, but he and I are still together as far as I’m concerned. We’re still married.”
“You and me, we have a child together now,” he says so softly, I barely hear him. “Perhaps you belong with me not with him.”
I shake my head. “I don’t believe that.”
He cups my face in his hands. “Believe it,” he says quietly.
What about Bridget? What about our children?
“But what about—”
He shuts me up with a kiss. A chaste kiss. His lips are soft, tender. I pull him tighter to me and deepen the kiss, wanting so desperately to be close to him. I feel the need for him deep within, from my lips, to my heart.
But I can’t do this anymore. I need to be stronger than this. His hands hold my face softly as his tongue teases mine. I suck on his bottom lip and let go reluctantly. I grab his hands in mine and pull myself free.
“We can’t, Weston. I can’t do this.”
He fixes me with dark eyes, his breathing ragged. “I know you want this. I can feel it in the heat of your skin. I can see it in the flush of your cheeks. I can hear in the ragged edges of your voice. I can almost taste it.”
I pull my gaze away from his. He’s breaking me again.
“Just say no,” he says. “Just say the word, and I’ll back away. I’ll leave you alone.”
I can’t say the word. I want him to stay.
He pulls my mouth to his again and the sweet taste of him almost brings me to the edge.
I think about Gabe again. I know I need to be strong, bold.
I push him off me, tearing myself away. “No,” I snap. “No. We can’t do this.” My whole body trembles as I tell him, “You’ve got to stop this. You know the power you have over me. You know I’m putty in your hands. And you take advantage of it. You play me. You manipulate me with your beautiful face and your beautiful words. I want you to leave right now.”
He swallows hard. “The last thing I want to do is play you, Mirella.”
“Go!” I scream.
“Mirella…”
“Please go.”
He stares down at the floor, at the strips of oak flooring beneath his feet and he doesn’t move or say anything for the longest time. He finally gazes up at me. He looks absolutely torn. He reaches for the door handle and looks at me one last time. “I may eventually let go if that’s what you wish, but I will always love you.”
The door closes behind him and I crumble to the floor in tears. Those last few words were said with such conviction, such emotion. I know he was speaking the truth…absolutely, unequivocally. He truly believes that he will always love me.
I’m a part of him now.
And he is a part of me.
Gabe brings the girls back at around eight o’clock. They�
��re full of smiles and riled up. I suspect there was a lot of sugar involved. Claire is clutching a stuffed giraffe and Chloe holds a white leopard.
“We went to the zoo,” Chloe tells me.
“I can see that,” I say as I venture a look up at Gabe who shoots me a shy smile. My heart does a little leap, despite the way we left off the last time we saw each other.
“This giraffe is going to be Tokyo’s baby,” Claire tells me.
“Cool,” I say, thrilled to see my girls so happy. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them like this.
“We should go make a zoo,” Chloe pipes up. “With all the animals I have in my room.”
Claire’s face lights up. “Yeah, that would be so awesome.”
And next thing you know, they’re both bounding up the stairs.
“Well, it’s nice to see those two getting along for a change,” I joke. “What’s your secret?”
He looks down at me with a hint of a smile.
A sudden flash of memories of our last time together take me by surprise. A short erotic film plays in my mind; his mouth against mine, his hand cupping my breast, his tongue sweeping across the letters of his name, inked on my skin.
I swallow hard. “Uh…so you had a good time?”
He smiles at me. “We did. They loved it.”
I can’t seem to peel my eyes away from him. I’m sure he notices. He shoots me a devilish smile. He knows all too well what I’m thinking about.
“Well, uh…” I stammer. “Thanks for taking them.”
“No problem.”
I smile at him again, feeling ill-at-ease. When did I become so nervous around Gabe? It’s feels like he’s a boy picking me up for our first date.
“I should get going,” he tells me.
I don’t want him to leave. “You could stay…for coffee or something.”
He laughs. “No, I should get going. And you know I only drink coffee in the morning.”
I look down at the floor. “I know. I’m being stupid.” And I wonder if he needs to be somewhere else. If he’s meeting someone else. But then I remember he told me all he wants is me.
He takes my hand in his — the gesture stuns me. “But I do want to tell you something,” he says, his words soft. “I wanted to apologize for what I said last time,” he explains, his huge hazel eyes gentle.
“It’s okay,” I tell him.
He still holds my hand when he says. “No, it’s not. It wasn’t a mistake. It did mean something. It does change things,” he goes on. “The truth is I was just so damn mad at myself for losing control.”
“I lost control too.”
He shakes his head, looking so worn out. I feel sorry for him. “We shouldn’t have…it’s so complicated between us now, Ella.”
My heart does a little cartwheel. Yes! He’s willing to give me another chance… maybe.
I inch closer to him. “It was very special to me. It wasn’t just a quick fuck,” I whisper. “I’m glad it happened.”
“Me too,” he says. “But think about what you’re asking me, Ella? You want me to stay with you and help you raise another man’s child.”
He’s right. I’m asking too much. “I know it’s a lot to ask.”
“It’d be one thing if he was out of the picture, Ella, but he’s not. I don’t think he’ll ever be. The man’s fucking obsessed with you,” he presses on, his words filled with contempt. “And you. I think you’re in love with him too.”
I jerk back. His words have stunned me. “I…I’m not.”
“C’mon,” he says. “Can you really tell me that truthfully?”
I don’t know.
I love Weston. But it’s a different kind of love.
“We can work this out, Gabe,” I press. “I know it.” As I utter the words, they fade into the charged air, and I know that even I, can’t quite see how we could conceivably work this out.
He worries his lip. “I don’t want to say this, but…”
“But what?” I ask, frazzled. I know he’s about to tear me apart.
“Maybe you need to carefully consider your future, Ella. Maybe you are better off with him.”
My body suddenly feels so heavy, my head too big. I look into his eyes, and beg. “You can’t be saying this, Gabe. What about the girls?”
I can’t believe he’s giving up on us. That he won’t fight for me and the girls.
He takes me in his arms. “I’m just being realistic. I don’t want you to stay with me, if all you really want is to be with him.”
I tear myself from him. “But I don’t want him,” I cry out, the words a soft wail. “I want to be with you.”
He takes my face in his hands and wipes a tear with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t,” he says. “I still love you, Ella. I always will. But you need to seriously think about this…about what you’re doing. It’s one thing to fuck me around, but you can’t do that to the girls.”
I’m speechless. He’s so right.
His hands are still pressed against my cheeks as my tears drench his fingers. “I’m sorry,” he goes on. “But you really need to make a decision, and stick with it.”
He pulls me into another bear hug. I close my eyes and revel in the feel of him close against me.
But then, he releases me. “When I walk out the door,” he starts off but can’t quite seem to say the rest. I study his features, curious, trying to predict his next words. I know I won’t like them.
“When I walk out the door…” he repeats. “We are officially separated.”
His words destroy me. They absolutely wreck me. I think about him and Bridget, and I wonder if he wants to be with her.
“You want to be with her?”
“With who? Bridget?”
“Yes, Bridget.”
His eyes seem full of sorrow when he tells me, “I don’t want to be with Bridget,” he assures me. “I swear. It’s over.”
I believe him. I don’t know why, but I believe every word.
“This isn’t about me, Ella. This is about you. You need to figure out if you want to be with him or me,” he says, a frown pulling down the corners of his mouth. “Do what you need to do. Go to him, talk your feelings out, fuck him…but when you make your decision, you can’t go back. And either way,” he goes on, his words soft and low. “You need to tell the girls what’s going on. You can’t keep them in the dark much longer.”
I’m sobbing like crazy and he pulls me into another hug, muffling my cries against his chest. “Shh…the girls will hear you.”
I pull away and wipe my nose with the heel of my hand. I don’t want to look at him anymore. I want him to leave. “You should go.”
He stares at the floor and nods. Neither one of us says a word for the longest time. He finally lifts his gaze to mine. “I’m just giving you time, Ella. Please take it.”
He wraps his hand around the door handle and smiles at me as he leaves. “It’s not over between us,” he says as he walks away.
His last words give me hope.
I’m not giving up quite yet.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
As long as it takes.
The four of us girls are playing a game of Sorry. Claire’s little pout is bittersweet — Gwen’s just taken out one of her pawns.
“Sorry, sweetie. I had to do it,” Gwen tells her. “That’s why the game is called ‘Sorry’.”
Claire glares at her. Chloe, who is winning at the moment, seems rather amused. “Someone always ends up crying,” I point out. “Fun times.”
Gwen smiles at me. My best friend. My rock.
My phone chirps, off in the distance. I jump up and dash to the front entry hall where I keep my purse.
My heart sinks when I see Weston’s name.
Are u home later this afternoon?
No, Weston. Please don’t.
I really can’t deal with Weston right now. Things are finally going okay with Gabe. This is my chance to fix things. I know it seems impossible, but maybe Gabe is willing
to come back to me, even with this new baby. The last thing I need is Weston seducing me and melting my resolve.
Yes…but I can’t see u. Pls understand.
-----------
I understand. I will not be there.
Gwen rolls the dice. “Who was it?” she asks. She’s always been super nosy.
“It was Weston. He wanted to know if I would be around this afternoon,” I say in hushed tones. “Didn’t say why. Rather cryptic.”
“Maybe he’s coming over,” she whispers. “Maybe I should take the girls somewhere.”
I roll my eyes. “God, please don’t.”
“Oooh…is there something you’re not telling me?”
I look over at Chloe who doesn’t seem to be paying us any attention. She’s arguing with her sister again.
I bite my lip. “Girls, stop bickering already. Why don’t I make us some lemonade? Let’s have a little break.”
“Yes,” Chloe agrees. “I’m parched,” she says, ever the drama queen.
“We should go to the park after, and pick up this game later,” I tell them as Gwen follows me to the kitchen, eager.
She takes a seat at the kitchen table. “Spill.”
I grab the can of lemonade powder mix from the cupboard. “Well,” I start. “Gabe came by the other day to pick up the girls…”
“And?” she says, at the edge of her seat. “What happened?”
I smile. “You live vicariously through me, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she says. “Now spill.”
I don’t really want to tell her, but it’s no use, she probably sees it all over my face. I lean in close. “Well, we ended up…you know,” I whisper, “…in the powder room.”
“You didn’t. You little tramp,” she says, wide-eyed. “Was it amazing?”
I close my eyes for a second, remembering. “It was. I’ve missed him so much.”
“Does this mean he’s coming back?” she asks, hopeful.
My smile fades as I tell her the hard truth. “He said it didn’t change anything at first, but then…I’m not sure.”
Her smiles fades. “I’m so sorry, Mirella.”
“And then, yesterday, Weston came over.”