Color Her Red

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Color Her Red Page 5

by Crystal Shaw


  Thomas looks down at the wheel, gripping onto it, and finally turns off the road pulling into The Gramercy Hotel parking lot.

  “Why was she readmitted? Did she contact you when she got out the first time?” I don’t want to know, but the words fall out of my mouth. My eyes dart at him, measuring his reaction.

  “No she didn’t. I don’t know why all of this happened. I never could’ve guessed,” his voice trails off.

  “So she is the one that leaked those photos then?” Kate comes to the realization before me. I completely forgot about the photos. I breathe in deep and let out a long dismal breath keeping my eyes closed.

  “I imagine it was her.” He puts the car in park, and stares down at the stick shift. “I don’t even remember those pictures being taken when I was with her. I don’t know who took them.”

  “Does she know where we live? Is that why we are here?” I ask the questions in a low defeated voice, not making eye contact, just staring out the window. I lean my head against the cold glass, my knees to my chest, as I try to calm myself. After everything today, I just want to crawl into my bed and hide.

  “She came to our house earlier today. When I got home I could see her in the window.” My head jerks in disbelief and I gape at him. My heart feels like it is being ripped out of my chest. She was in our house, in our house?

  “Rose?” Her name escapes my lips as a whisper. Rose is our housekeeper; I can’t imagine what she would have done.

  “She’d gone for the weekend already. I called her; she had no idea.” He closes his eyes.

  “How did she even get in?” The question leaves me just as I think of it.

  “I’m an idiot, Emma. I used the same security password that I had at my old place.”

  My eyes widen. The thought of that woman in my house is too much for me to bear. I can’t believe she just walked into my house. She wants to be his wife. She was waiting for him.

  She might have been waiting for you.

  Shock and terror grips me, holding me still against the leather, as I come to that realization. Thomas can see it in my face. He makes a move to touch me, but stops when I glare at him.

  I hesitantly ask, “What did she want?”

  “I don’t know. I called the police right away and had Michael track you down to make sure you were okay. I stayed in the driveway, waiting for the cops to come or for her to make her move. I didn’t even get out of the car.” He swallows hard as both Kate and I stare at him, waiting to hear what happened.

  “They spent over an hour searching but they couldn’t find her anywhere.” He finally looks at me with his soft blue eyes and rests his hand on my knee, trying to console me or trying to find comfort, I can’t tell which. “That’s why it took me so long to get to you. I didn’t want her to follow me and confront you.” I look at him with a mix of confusion and fear in my eyes. Confront me?

  “But she did follow you.” Kate mumbles under her breath.

  “I know.” He swallows hard and frowns. His eyes are full of anguish. He looks completely broken down and abandoned. A moment of silence passes. I feel completely overwhelmed, the tears return and I sob, heaving my body into the seat.

  “I would never hurt you Emma. I love you. I swear I didn’t cheat on you. Please forgive me.” He sounds desperate again, but his voice calms me.

  I helplessly weep as I feel Thomas’ strong arms around me, holding me steady, calming my shaking body. I feel his soft lips on my shoulders, kissing the exposed skin.

  “I would never do anything to hurt you.” He whispers to me.

  He puts his warm hand on my face and pulls me up to his lips. His thumb rubs my ear and then moves through my hair and down my neck. I didn’t realize how much I needed his touch. A wholehearted feeling of exhaustion overwhelms me as I descend into his arms.

  THOMAS TAKES ME BY THE WAIST as I slip out of the passenger seat, cursing my drunkenness and attempting to wrap my head around this dreadful evening. Part of me wants to push him away and smack him across his gorgeous face, but I need his comforting touch. All of this is too much for me to handle, my head is pounding and comprehending everything is too overwhelming. I recap the night as we clamor on the paved parking lot towards the entrance: he has not cheated on me, a psychotic ex released the photos, she also went to see him yesterday to try to get him back, and she broke into Kate’s house after breaking into our home to do God knows what. The last one is the most disturbing. My mind twists the endless possibilities of what could have happened if Thomas hadn’t seen her in the window, if he had walked into the house with her waiting in some dark corner for him. What if I hadn’t seen her through Kate’s window? What would she have done? I have to shake the insufferable thoughts away. I wish I could wake up and all of this would just be one sickening nightmare, a tiny blip of unconscious horror.

  He leads the way with me in his arms and Kate staggering in her heels by his side. No one speaks; the atmosphere that was once a mix of fury and sadness is now a horrid mess of fear, shock, and confusion. I’m all of these emotions, but worse of all I’m drunk. I’m angry that we’re in this situation, but I don’t think I should be angry towards Thomas. Yes, he was a careless asshole who slept around, but that was years ago. I wish there was a way to make all of this go away. As I think it over in my head, if everything that he’s saying is true, Thomas has done nothing to warrant my aggression, at least not since he’s known me. Yet, I have been verbally and physically abusive, even as he was trying to get me out of harms way. I can’t imagine what Thomas must think of me right now. Again, I feel sickened; this time shame accompanies the unpleasant response.

  Thomas takes off his jacket and places it around my shoulders, holding onto me tight. It’s only when I see Kate shivering that I realize how cold it is. It’s not snowing but the wind is bitter. I pick up my pace towards the entrance to the hotel. When he opens the door he kisses me gently on my forehead. I’m grateful for his kiss and his jacket. I wanted to crawl into his arms in the car; at the same time I wanted to beat the shit out of him. Thomas gives my hand a squeeze and kisses the back of my hand and I want more, I want him to reassure me that this will all go away.

  Kate and I stand to the side of the front entrance while Thomas walks calmly to the desk. I’m sure the Barbie-like clerk has no idea why we’re here and what we’ve been through tonight. My husband has transformed back to his composed and collected CEO-self.

  “I’m so sorry Kate. I can’t believe all this shit.” I can’t find the words to tell her just how sorry I am. I start to think what would have happened if we had gone back to my house then I realize it would have been worse, so much worse. What exactly is this woman capable of? What would she have done? I shake the thought from my mind, again, I don’t want to know.

  “It’s not your fault Emma.” She breathes in deep and takes my hand in hers, “I’m scared for you two.”

  Her eyes are searching for something in mine. I hesitate. I’m not really sure what to say. I feel fuzzy and incapable of responding.

  We both turn suddenly towards Thomas as his phone rings, ensnared by the possibility of who is on the other end. He holds up a finger to the clerk and slowly walks towards the elevators, keeping his head down. He’s out of our hearing range. We just stare at him, hopeful that the police have her in custody. What would they even charge her with? Breaking and entering? Harassment? Being a psychotic bitch?

  I turn back to Kate, gently squeezing her hand. “It will be okay. I know it will.” My voice is weak and even I’m not convinced by my tone. I examine her anxiety-filled green eyes and do my best to reassure her. She shakes her head and begins to respond but Thomas interrupts us.

  “Kate, I’m sorry for today.” He has brought his calm and collected demeanor back to us. “She isn’t in your house and there doesn’t appear to be any damage. The police don’t know where she is though. They’re doing their best to track her down.” His voice is stern and uncomfortable; it’s too business-like. Through his calm
composure I can tell he’s pissed. “Please stay at the hotel tonight.” He breaths deep, “Michael is making sure you have a new back door and new locks in your house. I hope that’s alright.”

  “Yes, of course.” Her voice sounds raspy and she clears her throat. She doesn’t make eye contact; her gaze rests on the floor.

  “Good. Here’s your hotel key.” He hands her a small envelope, “Your room is right next to ours.”

  Tension surrounds us, but it’s late and we’re all exhausted so no one speaks. He puts his hand on the small of my back and leads us to the elevators. It’s silent as we wait for the doors to open. I don’t even know what I would say if I had the energy. She’s still out there. That’s what we’re all thinking, but no one is saying it.

  “Kate, I don’t think you will need it, but just as a precaution, I’d like to have you protected tomorrow,” he says very business-like as he pushes the button for our floor and the doors close us in.

  “What?” Her eyes dart to him with disbelief. I stare at him with bleak curiosity. I’m not sure what this woman is capable of, but would Kate really need protection?

  “I would just have peace of mind if you allowed two of my security team to accompany you tomorrow and possibly the rest of the week, while the police locate her.”

  I pull away from Thomas, just enough to breathe. He watches me but doesn’t say anything. I can hardly handle what has already happened. I don’t want to think about what may happen if they can’t find her.

  “That’s fine,” she responds in a low, flattened voice. She stares at the elevator doors, waiting for them to open.

  I watch Thomas but he doesn’t speak. No one speaks. My body feels heavier with every second that passes. I hold onto him resting my head on his shoulder. The doors open and we move into the carpeted hall.

  “I can’t tell you how sorry I am Kate,” he keeps his gaze on her while we walk. “I had no idea this would happen.” He looks compassionate and sounds sincere, the CEO entrepreneur apparently stayed in the elevator, my husband has returned to us.

  Kate’s eyes are forgiving. “No one could have possibly known, Thomas.” She stops at her room and glances up at us. “Sleep tight you guys.”

  I grab her hand and attempt to smile. “Sleep good. I’ll see you in the morning.” It’s more of a question than a statement.

  She squeezes my hand. “I better see you tomorrow,” she says with a smile. Her warm response puts me at ease. That’s the Kate I know.

  We watch her enter before Thomas opens the door.

  Chapter 4

  There is so much to do, but I feel exhausted and quite honestly I don’t even know how I’m still standing. I doubt it’s even 1:00 AM but I’m struggling to comprehend everything that has just happened. Given the ungodly amount of alcohol I drank tonight, I’m surprised I’m still conscious.

  I don’t know how I feel. I believe Thomas; I know he loves me, but I feel wounded and I’m not sure how to respond to all of this. He’s looking at me as though he’s unsure if I believe him, maybe he wonders if I still love him. I do, I hopelessly still love him. I feel a sense of relief as I realize our marriage is not over. For hours I was sure that he was leaving me for another woman. I was so foolish. This was all just a publicity stunt, an ex fling that wants him back, bat shit crazy ex, but still just an ex. I shudder and then I rest myself on the bed, sinking deep into the fresh white linens, sitting back with my feet still firmly on the ground.

  “You should call your mom, Emma.” His voice of reason makes me groan, even if it is a pleasant disruption from my morbid thoughts. I had completely forgotten about my mom and her messages.

  “Did you talk to her?” I take in the fresh scent of the room, trying to distract myself. A moment passes. I look up; he still hasn’t answered me. He’s on his phone, absorbed by something.

  “Thomas?”

  He glances at me and his blue eyes look heavy and wretched. My poor Thomas.

  “She called me during the PR meeting.” He sighs and walks slowly across the room, setting his phone down on the nightstand, and sits next to me on the bed. I lay my head in his lap, curling my legs up on the soft bed, caressing his hand with mine. I feel his stiff body somewhat relax with my touch. My heart drops as I realize I’ve caused him unnecessary agony. With everything he has been going through, I’ve made it worse. He lays a comforting hand down on my exhausted body, rubbing his fingers gently up and down my lower back and the curve of my waist. I could fall asleep in his lap, absorbing his comforting touch; I don’t want to move.

  “We were on the phone for almost an hour.” I look up past my lashes to see the smirk on his face. “She was more reasonable than you, Emma.” I pull his hand towards mine and kiss his wedding band.

  “I would never cheat on you.” The strength in his voice collapses, “I’m sorry.” I crawl into his lap, nestling my head under his chin, trying to comfort him. He whispers, “I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I kiss him gently on his throat, down to the little dip above his chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer when you called,” I barely speak, my voice drenched in regret.

  He gently rolls me onto the bed so I am lying on my back, leans down, his body shadowing mine, and kisses me firmly with passion. As he pulls away, I reach a hand around his neck and pull him in again for a small kiss. He closes his eyes and breaths in deep, calming his body.

  “Call her, she just wants to hear your voice and make sure you’re alright.” He gets up slowly. “Call her, Baby.” His voice is filled with fatigue. He gives me a soft sympathy kiss on my lips making my lower lip moist. I watch him walk to the bathroom, hands in his hair as he leaves the main bedroom.

  I sit up, doing my best to remain awake, and take a look around the room. It’s a large suite, nicely decorated with contemporary art; large pieces are framed on each wall. The furniture has clean straight lines with brushed nickel hardware. It looks nothing like our home; I wish we were home, climbing into our own bed. I would give anything to be falling into the soft down comforter on our bed right now. I love the feel of the light blue silk threads that form a gorgeous tone-on-tone pattern. I breathe in deep hoping to smell the soft lavender notes from the aromatherapy candles on our nightstand, but no such scent exists in this room. It’s a cold, contemporary refuge. The thought sinks deep, twisting and disintegrating my insides. We aren’t home because some crazed stalker broke in and is looking for us.

  What does she want?

  Again, I shake the thought away. I don’t want to know. I feel overwhelmed with anxiety. I shouldn’t think anymore tonight. Hopefully, tomorrow she will be in jail or a ward, so long as it is nowhere close to me or my husband, and then I won’t have to think about it anymore. My head is throbbing, sending sharp pains to my temples. I wait a moment for the pain to pass.

  I glance to the closet and see four suitcases stacked neatly on the floor courtesy of Michael, I’m sure. Michael does whatever Thomas requests and never asks any questions. It used to make me so uncomfortable, especially when it came to cleaning up after me. I’m more used to it now, but I’d rather take care of my delicates myself. The thought sends a weird shudder through my body. I get up and dig through my bag, tossing two pairs of newly purchased Lucky Brand jeans on the floor. Michael did a pretty damn good job; they are my favorite jeans. Yes, a lace pair of panties is neatly folded; the tag is still attached. There are three pairs in different colors tucked inside, next to matching bras that are equally as beautiful. Two years ago, I practically had to beg Michael to call me Emma, now he is packing my underwear and he’s picking out lace. I wonder if Thomas told him lace. I doubt it; he probably enlisted the help of a personal shopper. I dig a little more to find a gorgeous pink paisley nightshirt. I toss my tear-soaked clothes on the floor and slip on the silk material. I instantly feel calm, and exhausted. I return to the edge of the bed and feel myself sink.

  “Thomas, did Michael pack a bag for Kate?” The thought creeps into my mind. I hope he d
id, even though the thought of him picking out lace panties for Kate makes me cringe.

  He answers from the bathroom, “He is getting it now. I didn’t anticipate her joining us.”

  Relief sets in, although I now know that Kate has a new set of panties that Michael possibly hand picked. What does he think about that job requirement?

  “You should give him a raise.” I yell back as I lay across the bed, falling into the soft mattress. I hear him let out a small laugh. I’m not sure how much Michael gets paid but I know it is some ridiculous amount. He earns every penny of it though.

  A few minutes pass before I reluctantly sit up. I need to call my mom; I can’t let her worry all night. I scoot across the bed to grab my purse off the nightstand and let out an exhausted sigh. I find my phone and toss the purse carelessly onto the floor. Growing up I only had my mom; my father left when I was born. She’s been my rock and I have tried to be hers. I know I’ve failed tonight. I failed miserably in so many ways. I’ll just call her; I can’t listen to the voicemails. If I start listening to them, I know I’ll cry. I cry so much it’s a joke.

  I dial her number and relax into the bed running my hands through my hair and under my eyes; they feel slightly swollen.

  “Baby girl!” My mom answers the phone so warmly. “I was so worried about you!” And there’s the disapproving motherly tone I was expecting.

  “Hi, Mom,” she puts an immediate small smile on my face even though she’s scolding me. “I didn’t mean to make you worry, I was just trying to pull myself together.” My voice sounds a bit distraught, which causes hesitation on the other end of the phone.

  “Sweetheart, have you talked to Thomas? I talked to him earlier-”

  “We talked. I’m with him now.” I cut her off; I don’t want her to think that Thomas and I are fighting. I do believe him, I’m worried and angry, but I believe him. I hear her instantly relax on the other line. “He’s going to fix everything.” Was that for your benefit or hers? “It was just a publicity stunt.” My heart drops a little with the last line. It was more than a publicity stunt but she doesn’t need to know the details. I can barely even wrap my head around all of it.

 

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