“Chad? What are you doing here?”
To Be Continued…
The Chase
A Perfectly Imperfect Collection Novella
Marnie Cate
Copyright © 2016 by:
Marnie Cate
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
This book was built at IndieWrites.com. Visit us on Facebook.
161112.174100
Chapter 1
Yes, darling. Keep clicking those buttons. You are building my case. I’ll have our divorce papers sent to you very soon.
He can pretend he is working hard but I know Jeremy. Maybe he was answering a few work texts but the ones where his eyes brightened and brought out his devilish grin could not be work. It was her. I say her like there is just one. One woman is never enough for Jeremy. Jeremy likes the chase. I had been the last one . . . the one he finally caught. The one he decided was worthy of him. I was enough of a trophy to marry.
Jeremy sat on his monstrous leather chair while I had chosen a love seat across from him. Love seat . . . far from. The view of the high rise buildings, with their scattering of lit windows, irritated me. When Jeremy proposed to me, he told me he had found his dream wife and his dream home, in the same week. I now wonder which meant more to him.
The penthouse we lived in was larger than most people's homes. Centered in the financial district of Los Angeles, Jeremy insisted it was the perfect home for us. It was lavish and excessive in my opinion. By the time we had moved in, Jeremy had already decorated it to his liking. Black leather furniture. The odd art deco sculpture. Dark wood floors. Gray walls with white accents. No wall hangings. The wall-to-wall windows with the view of the buildings were enough decoration for him. They showed success. At least, he had allowed me to put up an elegantly framed picture of us on our wedding day. Good idea, babe. We want our guests to be reminded they are dealing with a power couple. There was no evidence of life in our home. That was his style - cold and impersonal.
My mother had warned me that a man like Jeremy would give me security but he would never meet my needs for love. As much as I hated to admit it, my mother was right. I knew that when I agreed to marry him. I had known in the back of my mind that he was not the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. There had always been signs of his wandering eye.
Earlier in the evening, he had begun his texting and continued through the night. Setting his fork down on his unfinished plate, he excused himself. "Sorry, babe. I've got to put out some fires. I'm still reeling from the San Diego fiasco."
"Of course," I said, forcing a smile. Yes, another night where he would claim he had a bunch of work to do . . . that he needed to catch up . . . that he had so much that couldn't wait. I knew his messaging was not business. I had known Jeremy was a womanizer since the beginning of our marriage. The blinders I had put on allowed me to ignore it. At first. I usually could calm my mind and pretend it wasn't happening but tonight was different. As much as the ding of each message was like a knife in my heart, it was time for me to put my plan into action.
Like I said, for Jeremy, it was all about the chase and he had already caught me. How ironic that he had married me – Caitlyn Chase? He had caught his prize. But not for long.
Closing my book and picking up my teacup, I decided it would be best to leave the room.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to bed. I’m tired, Jeremy," I said.
Setting the phone down, he watched me walk away. "I am sorry I’ve been ignoring you, babe. I have to keep those dollars rolling in, don't I?"
"Yeah," I said, laughing half-heartedly.
Confronting him would not be helpful. He’d tell me I was crazy. If I didn't apologize for my insanity, he would threaten to take everything away from me. I had no plans to be penniless at the age of thirty-two. Marrying badly shouldn't be a sentence of poverty. Soon, everything would change. His house of cards would come crashing down. The plan has been put into motion.
As I put the cup in the sink, he wrapped his arms around me. I eyed the knife block. It would be easy enough to stab him but I knew that wouldn't satisfy me. I wouldn't like prison. Orange was not my color.
"You smell so good," he whispered in my ear. Jeremy began to kiss my neck. In my mind, I began to focus on the words I had been telling myself for the past year.
Be the good wife.
Ignore the fact that he is probably imagining he is with someone else right now.
Sixteen hours, twenty-three minutes. Then, you’re free.
Turning me around to face him, he kissed me on the tip of my nose. "Don't be mad, babe. You know I’m doing all of this for you." Lifting my chin with his finger, he said in a firm voice, "You know that, right?"
"Of course, Jeremy," I said, leaning in and kissing him.
Best actress in an unhappy marriage goes to Caitlyn Chase Whitaker. I would like to thank everyone who has made this possible, especially my lying cheat of a husband. This is really for you, Jeremy.
He interpreted my silencing kiss as an invitation. Taking my hand, he led me through our home. I stared at the bare walls, forcing myself to focus on the big picture. I could endure. It wasn't as if he was a fat, sweaty businessman. At one time, I had loved when he dropped everything to lead me away to a quiet place. But that was before reality hit.
When we reached the bedroom, Jeremy wasted no time peeling my clothes off and then his. If the sight of him didn't make me want to murder him, I would have enjoyed the view of his athletic body in the soft glow of the hallway light. Jeremy was, if anything, an attentive lover and he had been equipped with the tools to satisfy.
Lying on the bed, I stared at the ceiling pretending I had met a cabana boy, who I had decided to make my lover. I imagined having spent the day on the beach being massaged with oil by this delicious man and when he finally took me on the beach, I would cry out as I reached climax.
"Does it feel good, babe?" Jeremy asked. If you wouldn’t speak, it would feel better. No, it would feel better if it wasn't you. If it was him.
Tonight, I was unable to even feel the sweet release of pleasure from his touch. Not even with thoughts of the one I wanted. Tonight, I would need to fake it. "I need to feel you, Jeremy. Come to me, baby," I writhed and moaned.
With a satisfied grin, he slithered up my body. Closing my eyes as if I was still reeling from the pleasure he had given me, I focused my mind back on the object of my fantasy. Don't get me wrong, Jeremy was gorgeous. His tan, rock hard body made it easier to imagine my imaginary lover. Despite myself, I rocked against each of his thrusts. Each movement of his was a reminder to myself that I was a liar. I hated myself for enjoying even one second of it but this time, I didn't need to fake it. My body exploded from the pleasure of his skilled lovemaking. When he finally reached his peak, he slipped off of me and rolled over. I didn't need to look at him to see his pleased face. But to be fair, Jeremy had a good reason to be confident in his skills.
Rolling on my side, I let out an audible sigh as I stared at the alarm clock. Jeremy snuggled up behind me and whispered in my ear. "I hope this time we made a baby. We would make the most beautiful children."
Not a chance in hell, I thought smugly. The white pills I had been popping each day would ensure there would be no little Whitakers brought into this world by me. Jeremy was right though. We would have beautiful children. Jeremy was the perfect Cali boy -- blond hair, blue eyes, athletic and charming. Jeremy had often complimented my dark hair and hazel eyes. He said he had never seen a porcelain doll come to life in the body of a stripper but I had mastered it. I should have left him then.
I felt the cold air on my back as he left the bed. "I need to go back to work. Thanks for the distraction, babe."
Babe. I had come to the conclusion that this term of endearment was a way to ensure the wrong name was never called out . . . never sp
oken. Once again, I was reminded that Jeremy would never change and that I needed to protect my heart, as well as, my future. The plan was in place. I would hit Jeremy where it hurt and it had taken patience and planning. I would be the snake in the grass waiting to strike
Fourteen hours and forty-two minutes. Then, you’re free.
Chapter 2
The first time I caught him cheating, we had been married for five years. He had been stupid enough to leave his phone on the kitchen island and a picture of an exotic woman in bra and panties appeared on the screen.
"Who is she, Jeremy?" I asked, throwing his phone at him.
Catching it, he looked at the screen. One might think he enjoyed the image a little longer than appropriate for a man whose wife just caught him cheating.
"You’re worked up over this? It is nothing. You are imagining things," he soothed.
"You . . . you fucking liar. I saw the text message she sent you. I am not going to live with a cheat and a liar," I screamed. "How long have you been seeing her?"
I began to pack a bag. I took everything I could shove into my suitcase. Jeremy watched with a cold, calculating look on his face as I filled another bag with my things.
"You need help, Caitlyn. I am not your father. Just because he cheated on your mom doesn't mean I’m guilty of the same crime."
"Bringing my dead father into this was cruel. Why would you bring him up? This is about you and your inability to be with one person. You won't change, so I need to leave."
"Babe, I want to help you but you are right. I think you should go. It will be better for both of us," he said, picking up one of the packed bags.
I stared at him in shock. "That is all you have to say for yourself? I need help? I do? Why am I am playing Stepford wife while you are sleeping with trash?"
"I’ve done nothing wrong. You are letting your imagination run wild. So, a beautiful woman texted me. Did you see any responses from me? I’ve been nothing but a faithful and loving husband to you."
Jeremy gripped my arm and began dragging me out of the bedroom. I struggled as he pulled me harder towards the front door. "If you would like me to make a scene and embarrass you, I will, Caitlyn. I would prefer you act like a lady and leave our reputation intact."
Pushing the intercom, he said, "Have my driver outside in five minutes. Mrs. Whitaker is going on a vacation."
Stunned, I rode in the elevator in shock. The doors opened on floor twelve and Joe and Susanna Taylor joined us. I was numb.
"Are you guys going on a trip?" Susanna asked.
We knew this couple. We’d had dinners with them on several occasions. Jeremy rapidly began to tell them about the fabulous surprise he had planned for me.
"I have the best wife in the world,” Jeremy said, wrapping his arm around me and kissing my cheek. "Caitlyn really deserves a break. I'm just whisking her off to the airport. After her eleven-hour flight, she will have a week to spend touring on her own for some shopping therapy."
Stunned, I plastered a smile on my face.
"I've also planned a private tour of the Louvre. Caitlyn loves talking about art," Jeremy said.
He almost sounds like he knows what I would like.
"Twenty-six days to see all that Europe has to offer. I know my Cait will love the French Riviera. She will need the bike tours to keep this figure after all the food she will be eating," Jeremy laughed and affectionately pulled me closer.
What a convincing liar, I thought to myself.
By the time, we had reached the lobby I almost believed I was going on this fabulous trip. "I can't wait to hear all about it when you get back," Susanna said, excitedly.
Jeremy led me to the waiting car as I waved to the couple. The icy chill from the night air hit me and I took a long, slow breath. Opening the door, Jeremy waited until I entered. Leaning inside, he said, "I will not let you drag my name through the mud, Caitlyn. You need to get help. I don't want to see you until you’re ready to apologize to me."
Stunned, I rode in silence. Jeremy had told the driver to take me to my mother's house in San Diego. My cell phone vibrated.
Jeremy: Your credit cards are cancelled. I have called a locksmith. When you are ready to behave, you can call me.
Staring out the window, I felt blank. Had this really happened? Had my husband just kicked me out of the house because he was caught cheating? Picking up my phone, I texted the only person in the world I knew would listen – Thomas.
Caitlyn: He threw me out of the house.
Thomas: Jeremy? WTF. R U OK? Do you need me to come get you?
Caitlyn: No. Being sent to my mom. Will call later. Love you, T
Thomas: Love u 2!
Thomas: If you need anything, call!
Caitlyn: Will do.
Thomas: I have work for you. Call when you are ready.
By the time I reached my mother’s house, Jeremy had already called her and told her I was having a mental breakdown. He was such a manipulator. She believed him.
"We’ll get you the help you need, honey. Jeremy is so worried about you," she soothed. "I made up your room. It will all be better in the morning."
Climbing into my childhood bed, I cried. When my tears finally ran dry, I stared at the Marilyn Monroe poster I had hung on my wall when I was a senior in high school.
Nothing lasts forever, so live it up, drink it down, laugh it off, avoid the bullshit, take chances & never have regrets, because at one point everything you did was exactly what you wanted. ~Marilyn Monroe
There was something about those words that played in my mind as I fell into a dreamless sleep. In the morning, I found out Jeremy had been serious. He had cut off my credit cards. Damn you, Jeremy.
My mother had obviously been up for hours, based on the baskets full of muffins lining the counter tops. "Jeremy called, honey. What happened with you two? He recommended you see a therapist and you possibly need to be medicated," she said, with a scowl.
Dumb move, Jeremy. You never did listen to me. You said the magic words.
Hillary Chase despised anything dealing with psychiatry. They’re a bunch of quacks who want to shove pills down your mouth to shut you up. She never told me why she had such a bad taste in her mouth for mental health providers. I suspected it had something to do with my father but we never talked about those things. According to my mother, there was no life before she married Charles Chase. It had surprised me how well she had taken his death.
"I found out he was cheating on me and he told me that I was crazy," I said, numbly.
"Well, you can't stand for that. You have rights," she said, slamming the oven door.
"We’ll work it out, Mother. Just trust me," I said. "I already have a job lined up."
Before I married him, I had a good career as a book editor for Nitro Publishing. I was great at my job and had a list of bestsellers to prove it but Jeremy didn't want his wife to work, especially not in such an unflattering job. You’ll be fine at home. I need you at my side. Imagine a successful investment banker needing his wife to work. I had been his trophy to polish up and show off. And now, I was homeless and jobless. I was forced to accept his decision . . . his punishment.
During the two months I lived with my mother, I was reminded daily that she was right about Jeremy. I used that time to grow stronger and a plan developed in my mind. I was not going to lose everything. I would protect myself. I would not be the victim. I would wait for him to contact me. There was no doubt in my mind he would. A divorce would be the greatest embarrassment to him. He would have to admit he failed at something.
After the months of distance, Jeremy finally reached out to me. His contact was not the flowery apology I wanted or the dedication of his love. Instead, I received a text message.
Jeremy: Are you ready to apologize?
Caitlyn: You were right. I was just hormonal.
Fuck you, Jeremy. You know I did nothing wrong.
Jeremy: You can come home if you promise to not act like that again. You
hurt me, babe :(
Caitlyn: I know. Let me make it up to you.
Yes, I will make everything up to you.
Jeremy: I will send a driver for you today.
My mother told me it was a mistake to trust him again. I promised her I would be in control this time and promised he had learned from his mistake. I could never tell her my plan but I knew if I could, she would have been proud.
When Jeremy's driver arrived, I hesitated. No, Caitlyn. You can do this. One year. Then, you’re free.
The ride in the limousine felt like I was on my way to a funeral...my own. In many ways, it was like my death. Gone was the naive twenty-seven-year-old who had dreamed of happily ever after. Welcome back, Caitlyn Chase, woman with drive and dreams of her own. I wasn't excited or hopeful that Jeremy and I would reconcile and happily ever after would come. No. I was determined. Determined to get what I deserved out of life, not the scraps Jeremey thought I had earned.
When I arrived home, I found a bouquet of red roses on the counter. Yuck. I hate roses. Lies on a stem of sharp thorns. He would never send me the flowers I love, because daisies are not classy enough. Jeremy once told me daisies were for teenage boys to give to teenage girls with their heads full of dreams just to get them into bed.
The note simply read, "All is forgiven, babe."
When he arrived home that night, he promised it was all a misunderstanding and that he would make sure I never felt that way again. If I need to be on medication, he would find me the best doctor to help to prevent any further breakdowns.
"You are too good to me, Jeremy," I said, laying the plate of food I had made before him.
"This looks great," he said, cutting the steak I had cooked to perfection.
"I just want to make you happy, Jeremy," I smiled, cutting off a piece of meat from my plate and chewing.
"Just keep being sexy, babe and keep that smokin’ hot bod to make everyone envious and we’ll be fine," he grinned, taking another bite of his meal. "And your cooking is a reason to keep you around."
Flawed Perfection: A Collection of Winter Wishes Page 41