Perfect Husband

by Leslie Johnson

  Rach began snapping photos of the interior. “We should put this on Facebook and tag Denton’s name on it.”

  “What for?”

  “So he can see where you are! You’re visiting your ex-boyfriend’s new coffee shop. It’s bound to make him a little jealous.” She snapped a close-up picture of me with Andy working in the background.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  But at this point, I didn’t care what she did or how Denton reacted. I just wanted to wallow in my misery.

  When Andy finally had some time, he brought over two coffees and a plate of fresh croissants.

  “You should have told me you were coming,” he chided, sitting beside me. “I would’ve taken the entire day off.”

  “We just wanted to see the new place and congratulate you on your success.” I sounded like I was reading off a teleprompter. “Anyway, I’m happy for you, Andy. Well done.”

  “I named it after you.” His face took on a proud glow. “Did you see the sign outside?”

  “We sure did.” Rach rolled her eyes. “Could you be anymore obvious?”

  Andy had the decency to blush. “I thought it sounded nice. And when I first saw this place, it made me think of you.” He pointed to a far corner. “I could picture you sitting there with a cup of coffee, writing essays for your Egyptology courses. And I’d be standing behind the counter, working my butt off to take care of you.”

  The picture he painted for me definitely had its appeal. If this had happened six months ago, I’d have been over the moon. And dreaming of a wedding with Andy.

  But none of it mattered now. Denton had ruthlessly captured and imprisoned my heart, with no thought of reciprocating my feelings. This was the anguish I had to deal with.

  “That sounds lovely, Andy.” I smiled sadly. “And I’m honored that you named your coffee shop after me. But it’s been nearly six months since we broke up. Don’t you think it’s time you moved on?”

  “What if I don’t want to move on?”

  “Typical man.” Rach leaned across the table, pointing at Andy. “It’s always about you, isn’t it? What you want, what you don’t want. Well, this time it’s not up to you.” She leaned back, smirking. “Tiffany is a married woman. Remember that, Andy. She’s. Fucking. Married.”

  Andy glared at her. “Then what’s Tiffany doing here? You know what, here’s another question: Why’s there so much sadness in her eyes?” When I tried to interrupt, Andy whirled on me. “Don’t fucking deny it, Tiff. Your marriage is making you unhappy. I can see it, and it pains me to see you hurting like this.”

  “That’s not your problem,” Rach snapped. “You’re not her knight in shining armor, swooping in to rescue her. You’re the asshole who dumped her via the worst way possible. So stop deluding yourself.”

  “Both of you, stop it!” I cried, standing so fast my chair skittered backward on the new tile. “Enough. I didn’t come here so we could fight. We’re still friends, no matter what happened in the past.” I turned to Andy, exhausted. “I’m sorry we dropped by unannounced like this. It’s my fault, not Rachel’s. I just wanted to congratulate you on the new coffee shop, that’s all.”

  He nodded and gave me another hug. “Next time, come alone,” he whispered into my ear. “Leave Rach at home.” Then he went off to help behind the counter.

  “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?” I said, turning to my best friend. “You’ve been itching for a fight ever since he dumped me.”

  She nodded, giving me a somewhat guilty look. “He needed to hear it, Tiff.”

  My phone pinged with a new text message.

  Denton: Can you come to the penthouse? Gramps is here.

  I let out a tired groan. Would all this madness never end?

  The moment I entered the penthouse, I was immediately greeted by Denton and Ernest, who wheeled around to face me. His face lit up with a mixture of joy and disapproval, if that was possible.

  “Denton tells me you’re staying over at a friend’s,” he accused, gesturing for me to sit down.

  My cold gaze settled on my fake husband as I obeyed. “Did he also tell you that we had a fight?”

  “He doesn’t need to tell me anything. I can already feel the negative energy all around both of you.” Ernest glanced at his grandson. “Stop pacing and sit down. It’s time we discussed a few things.”

  “What’s there to talk about?” Denton sat down beside me, his thigh brushing against mine.

  Ernest clasped his hands together. “So the divorce will proceed? You’ve both made up your minds?”

  “You already know the truth,” Denton said angrily. “So what’s the point of extending a fake marriage or even staying in one?”

  “Hmm…” Ernest rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. “So you both had a contract. Lots of couples draw up contracts and prenups before marriage. Doesn’t make the marriage fake. Let me ask you both a question—did you have separate bedrooms? Or did you live like a married couple even when no one was watching?”

  We’d definitely lived like a real married couple, unable to keep from jumping each other’s bones.

  When we remained silent, Ernest tried again. “Instead of a divorce, how about a brief separation? Tiffany can go off and focus on her goals, and Denton can return to his bachelor ways and see if he prefers them. And if both of you decide you prefer that lifestyle, then you can proceed with the legalities. How does that sound?”

  It wasn’t a bad idea. But the ultimate decision would have to come from Denton himself.

  When he didn’t answer, I gave up and spoke. “I’m fine with a temporary separation.” I kept my eyes on Ernest. “In fact, I could use that time to travel around Europe and just enjoy being single again for a while.”

  At the word “single” Denton’s knuckles turned white.

  “What about you?” Ernest turned to his grandson, looking annoyed. “Do you agree to this separation?”

  “How long?” Denton finally muttered.

  “Three months,” I suggested, not looking at him. “It gives us plenty of time to focus on our goals. And it’ll give me time and distance to have a more objective view about this whole situation we’ve gotten ourselves into.”

  “In other words, you want this period to get over me completely.” Denton kept his gaze on his pants and picked at some invisible lint.

  Pissed, I finally turned to face him. “I told you I loved you. You felt burdened by that. I’d prefer to just have that divorce and be done with you, but Ernest wants us to try a different approach. So yes, I’m going to give it three months. For him.”

  “Then it’s final,” Ernest said, looking satisfied. “Your parents don’t know I’m here, and they have no clue about what’s going on between you two. Let’s keep it that way, eh?” With a groan, he wheeled toward the foyer. “Denton! Call my chauffeur and tell him to get the car ready. I have a date in twenty minutes.”

  “I’ll go down with you,” I began, but Ernest stopped me with a look.

  “Stay here. I can take care of myself.” With a curt wave, he disappeared out the door to take the elevator down.

  When Denton got off the phone, we stood there staring at each other.

  “Are you going back to Rachel’s apartment?” he asked finally.

  “Do you want me to?”

  He shook his head slowly. “No. I want you here. With me.”

  Something inside me relaxed, and I felt myself soften toward him again. “Then I’ll stay the night.”

  None of this made any sense. Denton obviously cared deeply for me. He was physically attracted to me. He couldn’t bear it when I was away.

  So why was he so afraid to admit that maybe, just maybe, this marriage of ours might be real?

  Twelve

  For dinner, we had takeout sushi. As we sat at the island counter, Denton’s gaze kept landing on my mouth.

  “What? Is there something on my lip?” I wiped at my mouth with a napkin.

  “No, it’s not
that.” He gave me a quick smile. “You look really kissable, that’s all. But I get this feeling the last thing you want is me touching you.”

  More than anything, I wanted to make love to my husband. But not at the expense of my heart.

  So I didn’t bother to correct him.

  “Are you going to spend the night in the guest bedroom?”

  “I think that’s best. I’ll be staying in there for the remaining weeks, or I’ll be at Rach’s.”

  Denton frowned at his half-eaten food. “I saw the photos of you, Rachel, and Andy on Facebook.”

  Damn Rach and her meddling ways. “She was just joking. Andy opened a new coffee shop, so we popped in to say hi.”

  “He named it after you.”

  “I didn’t ask him to.”

  “Of course, I know that. I just hadn’t realized how obsessed he is with you.”

  Uncomfortable with the conversation, I stood and placed the remainder of my sushi into the fridge.

  “I’m pretty beat. Goodnight, Denton.” I hurried toward the guest bedroom, closing the door behind me.

  After a long, hot shower that soothed my aching muscles, I pulled on a new t-shirt and a pair of tiny shorts. I felt awful about the abrupt way I’d left Denton in the kitchen. Needing to apologize, I opened the door and bumped right into Denton’s bare chest.

  “Hey, sorry!” He reached out to steady me. “I was debating whether I should knock or not when you shot out through the door.”

  I threw my arms around his neck, breathing in his clean male scent. “I’m sorry too,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “I’m sorry for being stupid and starry-eyed. This wasn’t what you signed up for.”

  He gripped my ass and dragged me back into the guest bedroom. “Stop apologizing. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He rained kisses on my face, his hands squeezing my ass. “Fuck, I’ve missed you. I thought I was going crazy.” He threw me on the bed, ripping off my shorts and underwear in one smooth movement. Then he frantically pulled off my shirt until I lay completely naked beneath him.

  “You know marriage is a life-long commitment, right?” As he talked, he pressed kisses down my stomach. “It’s no joke. I want what my parents have. I want what my grandparents once had. And so far, I’ve not met a single woman who can promise me that.”

  “Not even me?” I breathed, then moaned as Denton leaned down to suck on my nipple. He massaged my other breast, playing with the taut nub.

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know.” He pulled back to stare at me. “I feel like there’s something there, but other times… I don’t know what it is.”

  His words were starting to hurt me again, so I decided to put a stop to this. “Let’s not talk about this tonight. It exhausts me.” And I pulled him back down to kiss his full lips.

  After kissing for what felt like hours, Denton scooted down to below my waist and threw my legs over his shoulders, settling between my legs. Then he licked a long, slow line down my center, bringing his tongue back up to my clit before sucking it into his mouth. He played his tongue around the edges of my folds, always coming back to my clit, until I was trembling and screaming his name. He brought me to orgasm again and again, and when he finally entered me, our lovemaking was like nothing I’d experienced with him before.

  It was more intimate, as if he were sharing something very private with me.

  When he went to change positions, I shoved him down on the bed, finally taking what I’d wanted for so long. Taking him in my mouth, I reveled in his groan and teased his shaft with my tongue on my way back up. I could tell he was enjoying what I was doing by the way his hips came up to meet me, pushing his cock deeper into my mouth until it entered my throat. When he came, such a wave of love washed over me that I felt like everything we’d been through had been worth it for this very moment.

  We continued our marathon sex through the night, unable to stop touching each other. Not wanting to let go. Not wanting to sleep because we wanted our bodies joined one more time. Then once more. And then all over again.

  If there had been any doubt about my love for him, it was completely shattered tonight.

  And I realized something else—if my love burdened him, then I had to let him go.

  Because the last thing you ever wanted to do was hurt the one you loved.

  The remaining weeks of our marriage flew by pretty quickly. Denton and I laid out a plan—after informing his parents that I would be leaving for a three-month language course in Europe, I would then temporarily move into Rach’s home. When her school’s winter break began, we would take a few weeks to travel around Europe.

  During the three months, Denton and I would not stay in touch.

  Just the idea of not seeing him, talking to him, or touching him was enough to drive me a little mad. But it was a necessary evil. We needed this separation to know what it was that we truly wanted.

  Denton stared at me as I moved about the guest bedroom. Today was my last day at the penthouse.

  “My accountant will deposit one million dollars into your account by tomorrow.”

  “There’s no rush.” I threw the rest of my clothes into the suitcase.

  “I don’t want you lacking anything. If you ever need anything…”

  “We’re not staying in touch, remember?” I gave him a small smile. “I’ll be fine, Denton. I’m not that useless.”

  “I never said you were.”

  “But you think I’m naïve and helpless, which I’m not.”

  He came up behind me, wrapping his muscular arms around my waist. “What do you want to do on your last night here?”

  “Have dinner, watch one of your favorite Asian action movies, then stay up and talk all night, et cetera.” I turned and linked my hands around his neck. “In other words, the usual.”

  Denton and I ate beef burritos with beer, watched the Korean movie, The Chaser, and then spent the night looking at his photo albums and yearbooks. He’d had some weird hairstyles back in junior high, and even a platinum blond mullet at one point.

  “What were you thinking?” I shrieked as he fell back gasping in laughter.

  “I was going through an eighties phase,” he breathed, red in the face. “All my favorite oldie rock stars had the look, and I wanted to look like them.”

  “Thank god you became cool in high school.”

  Denton pulled me into his lap and kissed me so tenderly that tears threatened to choke me. Then he laid me on the couch like I was a porcelain doll he was afraid he might break and slowly removed my clothes, leaving wet kisses in his wake. When he gently pushed inside me, there were tears in both our eyes. We made love like that, rocking gently, our fingers stroking lightly, until we came together in a long, languid glow.

  By the time I fell asleep, exhausted from the most emotional sex I’d ever had, it was three a.m.

  The next morning, as I was dragging my suitcase to the foyer, Denton blocked my path.

  “I’ll drive you,” he insisted.

  “That’s okay. Rach is going to meet me downstairs.”

  “I’ll drive the both of you, then.”

  I shook my head, distressed. “Don’t make this harder than it already is.” Then I stepped out into the hallway and pressed the elevator button, every motion one I forced my body into.

  “Tiffany?” He stood leaning against the doorway, his bed hair making him look even hotter than usual because I’d been the one to muss it.

  I glanced back, pretending to be annoyed.

  He tossed me a weary smile. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

  “And don’t fall for someone like Veronica Sullivan just because I’m not here,” I shot back, my eyes going to his, the air around us practically crackling, like when you forced Velcro apart and it didn’t want to separate.

  He nodded. “Deal.”

  When the elevator signaled its arrival, I hurriedly stepped inside before I could find an excuse to linger.

  Outside, Rach was standing on the sidew
alk waiting for me. “You will not believe the crazy morning I’ve had. My stupid car broke down in the middle of the fucking street, and I had to get it towed. How embarrassing.” Angry and frustrated, she blew her hair out of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Tiff, but we’re gonna have to take the bus or the subway.”

  “That’s okay.” I tugged my suitcase forward. “One thing’s for sure, though. The minute Denton’s accountant deposits that money into my bank account, I’m buying you a new car. That thing should’ve been sent to the junkyard a long time ago.”

  Rach’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

  “You’d better believe it. C’mon, let’s go before my ass freezes.”

  Squealing with delight, she linked her arm through mine, chattering about the hot guy who’d towed her piece of junk.

  Thirteen

  Once I settled into Rach’s apartment, we started making plans for our European trip. We decided to go the backpackers’ route, sleeping in hostels and eating cheap local food. The trains also seemed like a great way to travel across borders, so we opted for that as well.

  “We’re going to spend Christmas in Europe!” Rach squealed, doing a weird dance in front of the TV.

  I laughed and joined her. I’d known Rach since our freshman year in college, and her life hadn’t been easy either. This was the first time we’d be splurging on a vacation and traveling together. I couldn’t wait.

  While I waited for school to let out for the break, I still worked part time at the community center teaching ESL students, and it made me wonder if teaching could be a viable path for me. Studying Egyptology was still my main goal, but I’d discovered that I really enjoyed spending time with immigrant students. They were genuinely interested in learning, and they worked damn hard. And along the way, I’d made a few good friends.

  Ernest called me out of the blue one day while I was shopping for groceries. “You are a terrible granddaughter-in-law,” he wheezed. “You think just because you left the penthouse, you have no obligations to me now?”