by Britney King
Jess quickly rose, washed her face, wrapped a hotel robe around her pajamas, and headed for the elevator. Anxious, she wondered what her husband could possibly want showing up at her hotel at five in the morning. She cautiously considered for a second that perhaps this had all just been a very bad joke. Maybe he’d come to his senses and was coming back to her. Maybe it was all a lie. His way of testing her.
As the elevator doors opened and Jess stepped out, she spotted her husband immediately. He was well-dressed in a suit and tie, just like the Spencer she knew and loved. The only thing different was their location and the knowledge he’d imparted upon her that everything, everything, was different. She noticed the way his expression changed as he met her gaze. He stood and ushered her over and Jess realized that she stood frozen just inside the elevator doors. She made her way over to where he’d been sitting and stopped. From afar, he’d looked familiar, but upon further inspection, up close, there was something noticeably different about him, which Jess couldn’t quite place.
“What are you doing here?”
Spencer smiled despondently and motioned at the oversized chair opposite him.
Jess eyed the chair and then sat and folded her hands in her lap.
“I didn’t want you to fly out of here without getting a few things settled.”
“So you’re still gay?” she retorted, the anger unexpectedly creeping upward.
Spencer looked himself up and down before glaring at the floor. “I’m still gay.” He chewed his lip before continuing. “I understand you’re angry and I’m sorry, Jessica. I know this isn’t what you expected to find coming here. To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure what to say—”
Jess cocked her head to the side. Her chest tightened. “Why are you staring at the floor?” she demanded.
He met her eyes hesitantly. “I’m not sure where to look.”
She motioned at the vicinity of her head. “This would be a good place.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what you want me to say, and I’m not sure where to start. This isn’t easy…”
“Well, you could start by telling me why you deceived me for all these years. And finish by explaining just what happened to our money.”
Spencer nodded. He’d expected this. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way… I didn’t mean to hurt you. But when you live a lie for so long, Jess, it eats away at you. It consumes you. And soon, there are lies, and then more lies, until all of a sudden everything you know is a lie. It’s self-perpetuating like that.”
Jess swallowed back the bile she felt rising in her throat. “How could you do this to me? To our kids?”
“It’s not something I did. It’s not even something I wanted to do. It’s who I am.”
“You know what, Spence—you’re a coward. You’ve lied to me for years. You led me on. You let me believe that you loved me… that we were in this together. But the truth was you were never really in it to begin with.”
Spencer studied her face and then looked away. “I did love you, Jessica. I mean, I do love you. Just not in the way that you need…”
She brushed the hair away from her face. “That’s a fucking understatement if I’ve ever heard one.”
He shifted. “About the money—the thing is, I made some bad investments. All of the money in our shared accounts is gone…” Her husband eyed her sullenly before looking away. “I’m sorry, and I promise to pay every penny of your portion back to you. But… I didn’t touch your inheritance… your dad put some pretty thick red tape in place around that.”
Jess shook her head. “Well, thank God for that.”
Spencer swallowed hard. “And that’s in part why I came… I’m...” He paused to run his hand through his hair and then continued. “I’m in trouble, Jess. That’s why I’m here. Well, partly… why I’m here.”
She frowned. “What kind of trouble?”
Her husband brushed her off with the wave of his hand. “Nothing major. Just made a few bad deals, is all.” He paused and slowed his pace. “Listen, I need to borrow some money from your trust. I need you to talk to our accountant and have them transfer it over… I swear to you I’ll pay you back in full with interest.”
Jess rubbed at her temples. “I don’t—”
She was cut off when a firm hand grabbed her shoulder. Jess turned to see Myles towering over her. Spencer stood abruptly and held out his hand. Myles glared at his hand until Spencer retracted it and promptly stuffed it in his pocket. Spencer studied Jessica and then looked back at Myles. “Well, hey, I guess I’d better be going and let you two get on with it.”
He nodded at Myles then turned to his wife. “Well, have a safe flight—I’ll give you a ring once you’ve landed. The accountant will probably be calling too, just a heads up.”
Jessica stood and tried to steady herself. She shifted her weight from one leg to another.
Myles cleared his throat and placed his hand firmly on the small of Jess’s back.
Spencer leaned in then and kissed Jessica’s cheek. She didn’t move to resist. “Give the kids my love. I’ll call them here in a bit.”
Jess nodded then watched him stride out of the hotel lobby and make his way out through the automatic doors. Tears silently ran down her cheeks as she watched the man she’d loved for so long, the man she’d committed her life to, the man who held her hand nervously as she pushed their children out into the world, walk as confidently as ever right out of her life without even once looking back.
Myles eyed her from head to toe, and back up again stopping at her leg. “You hurting?”
“Something like that.”
He straightened his back and then knelt down. “Climb on.”
Jess wiped her tears with both hands before getting what he was asking of her. “I’m not getting on your back!” she scoffed.
Myles stood and turned, his eyes pouring into her. “Fine… but just so you know... you’re passing up one of the best piggyback rides you would have ever received… that’s a lot to pass up.”
She shot him a look of skepticism and hesitated. She looked around the lobby not yet bustling with people and then back at him. “Fine,” she relented.
Myles knelt down once more and let her climb on. He stood, adjusted her position, and headed toward the elevator. He surprised her when he turned for the stairwell. “I wasn’t wrong, was I?”
Jess furrowed her brow. “Why are we taking the stairs?”
“I could use the energy expenditure I refrained from letting out on your husband’s face.”
“That’s not very nice,” she huffed.
“Yeah, well…”
Jess inhaled deeply then laid her cheek against his shoulder and exhaled. “I’m not saying you were right… but you weren’t exactly wrong either.”
She smiled to herself. It hurt like hell, both her leg and the situation. But there was something other than the pain this time. She wouldn’t exactly say it was hope, but perhaps the longing for something more. What a ride this life is, she considered. And to think she hadn’t even taken her pills yet.
Myles entered Jess’s hotel room, this time without warning. Something she was going to have to get used to. He surveyed the room and threw his hands up in the air. “Why aren’t you packed? We need to go.”
He handed her pills to her. “We need to fix this problem.”
Jess tossed them back, and then looked at him straight-faced before she released her wet hair from the towel it was wrapped in and tossed it on the floor. She adjusted and tightened the towel she still had wrapped around her body before addressing him again. “Jeez. Relax. We have time… I needed a shower…”
Myles glared at her. “Pick it up.”
Jess looked down at the towel and gave him her best ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’ face.
“Yes,” he said, acknowledging she’d gotten it right. “The towel. I said pick it up.”
Jess narrowed her brow and met his gaze head on. “What is wrong with you?”
Myles closed the gap between them and positioned himself directly in front of her, his eyes boring into hers. “This isn’t your house, and even if it was, someone has to pick that up. Starting today, that someone is going to be you.”
Jess started to speak then hesitated choosing her words carefully knowing this was about so much more than either of them was readily willing to admit. She stepped backward then turned to face the large window. “I don’t see what the big deal is… it’s just a towel. That’s what the maids are paid for, to clean up. It’s sort of job security.”
Myles stepped forward and grabbed the portion of the towel wrapped around her at her chest and yanked. Jess turned to look over her shoulder, confused by his anger.
“Bend over,” he ordered.
Jess rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’ll pick up the damned towel.”
As she turned and stepped forward to lean over and reach for the towel, Myles caught her by the waist with one arm. He lifted her slightly off the floor and hugged her body firmly into his to prevent her from moving, and walked the few steps to the bed where he deftly and firmly placed her stomach down. He placed one hand on the small of her back to hold her in place. She didn’t resist. Swiftly, he raised the hand that gripped the wet towel she’d been wearing and swatted her hard against her backside with it. As it struck her, Jess sucked in all the air she could into her lungs and held it there. He paused and waited just briefly as he watch her fingers tangle and grip the sheets. She knew what was coming. He reared his arm back and then playfully let the towel trail along her ass and thighs before picking it up again and slapping hard, this time against her thighs. Satisfied then, he dropped the towel and carefully flipped her over. Towering over her, he lowered himself down, his eyes on hers. He leaned forward, took her bottom lip between his teeth, and tugged. Jess swallowed hard as he released her lip, and then kissed her softly. “The first welt was for assuming someone else would take responsibility for your shit. And the second was for rolling your eyes and disobeying my order.” He studied her face, looking pained, then reached down, and pinched her nipple hard. “If we weren’t pressed for time, which has only been further exaggerated by your carelessness and defiance, I would fuck you good enough that the sting you feel across your ass right now would be mild in comparison to the pleasure you’d feel by begging me for release. Never forget, Jessica, your actions—they not only hinder your pleasure, but the pleasure of others, as well.”
Jess propped herself up on her elbows causing him to fall backward slightly. “I haven’t agreed to your rules… or your agreement yet.”
Myles brushed the back of his hand across her chest and then down her stomach. He ran one finger over her clit and then slipped it inside her. “Riddle me this. Did you ask me to stop when I laid you over the bed and swatted that sweet little ass of yours? Most importantly, did you want me to stop?”
Jess froze, swallowed hard as he slipped another finger in. She shook her head, ever so slightly, but enough that they both understood.
He grinned and removed his fingers. “Then, by default, you agreed. We shouldn’t let that happen again though, should we?”
Jess shook her head, stood, tangled her fingers around the roots of his hair, twisted, and yanked his face toward hers. She kissed him hard. “How do you like it?”
He pulled back just slightly, his hair still tangled in her fingers and eyed her naked body. “I quite like it.” He smiled.
Frustrated beyond what mere words could convey, she released his hair, dressed, and hurriedly packed her things.
Damn, he was good.
Chapter Fifteen
Jess hadn’t been back home with her children for more than twenty-four hours before Myles handed her the note that would forever change the course of her life. Looking back, she realizes that the course had likely already changed sometime before that, but this was the event that set all others in motion. She carefully unfolded the note without failing to notice that it was written on her very own stationery. An irony that wasn’t altogether lost on her. At least someone was writing.
Dear Jessica,
As per our prior discussion, I’d like to be a part of helping to get your life back on the right track. I promised you a list of rules regarding the ‘re-socialization project’ I proposed and they are as follows:
1. You must consent to the detox process and refrain from using all drugs, including alcohol, and remain clean at all times—participating in Narcotics Anonymous Meetings once a week for the duration of the program.
2. You must adhere to all methods of treatment both the doctor and I set forth, including but not limited to: a healthy diet, exercise and other various means of promoting well-being.
3. You must maintain complete open and honest communication with me at all times.
4. You pledge that you will mend fences with those who have been affected by your actions as a user.
5. You must agree to write daily.
If you consent to the above terms, you need to be ready to leave first thing in the morning. We will be away for approximately three weeks, give or take. The regular staff and your mother will care for the children. She’ll bring them to visit toward the latter end of the stay. Addison is aware of the situation and together, we have put a physician in place that will assist with the detoxification process. I need you to make sure that you are ready to commit as I believe we both realize this will not be a fun journey.
But know that if you do not agree to the above terms, I cannot stay on.
Sincerely,
Myles
Jess folded the note and placed it back on her bedside table. The way she saw it there was little choice in the matter. She realized she needed to get clean and in the process, sort through a whole host of situations in her life. She would have to begin the process of dissolving her marriage, of getting her life and her finances in order, and repairing the relationships with those closest to her, most importantly her children. Jess considered herself lucky to have a man like Myles offer to help, but she knew this wasn’t the ‘be all, end all’ either. There was a lot of work to be done.
Thankfully, for her, she’d just made the decision that she should start tomorrow. In the meantime, though, one last bender wouldn’t hurt.
Jessica slipped into her finest party dress. Tonight was the Ladies Who Lunch Annual Gala. A date which no calendar need remind her of because this year it fell on her wedding anniversary. To be clearer, it was she who had planned it that way the previous year, knowing that it would be a night to remember. The Gala had always been one of her favorite annual events, and so last year, when she’d undertaken the planning she assisted in seeing that it was set for this exact day so that the day would only be that much more special. She and Spencer had won the championship dance off, seven-years running. When she thought back to the girl she’d been a year ago, she couldn’t help but smile at how everything had changed. Not simply small changes, but it was as though her life were a snow globe, which someone had picked up and shook, only all of the contents were different when they landed. Some of them were even in Africa.
She wanted to go dancing, she had decided then and there—even if she hadn’t been invited and even if she no longer had a dance partner. So when Jess fingered through her selection, it was an Oscar de la Renta she found fitting for the occasion. A red and black knee length dress. It wasn’t what she would have chosen had she had more time, but it would do. Jess picked out a pair of earrings to pair with the dress and eyed herself in the mirror, quickly noting the way the dress once snug, now hung loosely over her body. The curves she’d once had now no longer there, she was but a skeleton of her former self, she realized as she smoothed the dress. Makeup would help and so would a drink she decided before haphazardly digging through the back of her closet in search of the bottle of vodka she had hidden there. To her dismay, in its place, she found a note that read, “I don’t think so.— M”
Jess moved on to the bathroom and shuffled through the
contents underneath her bathroom sink. When had she bought all this stuff, she wondered, and why in God’s name did one person need so much? Thinking that maybe she’d forgotten where she hid the bottle, she rummaged through the contents of nearly her entire bathroom in search of the only thing she knew that would ease her anxiety. Feeling more and more desperate by the second, she tore out the innards of her vanity only to find no bottle, but yet another note. “Obviously, it is not here. Try another method of making yourself happy, instead. —M”
Damn it, she spat. Damn that man. And damn her too, for allowing herself to be babysat in this manner.
Finally, she tried her last resort. Scouring through Spencer’s sock drawer, she knew the cool of the glass when she felt it with her fingertips. She reached in and gripped it tightly, pulled it out and hugged it to her chest, pleased that she’d come up fruitful this time.
Jessica untwisted the cap and took a swig, gleeful that she’d outsmarted Myles. She took another long swig and let the warmth of the alcohol ease her fears as it filled her belly. Relieved, Jess picked up a pair of her husband’s socks and ran her fingers over them. She brought the bottle to her lips and took another long pull. How had this happened to her? To her marriage? How could her husband be gay? All these years… and she’d had no idea.
Jess took another sip and another. She promised herself only three, relented to having just four, and then gave up altogether when she’d lost count. It wasn’t until the room began to sway that she replaced the cap and set the bottle aside. Unsteadily, she reached up and forcefully yanked one of her husband’s shirts off the hanger. She pulled and pulled again until there were piles of them surrounding her. She studied each of them, took them in her hands, and let the memories come. It seemed each of them held a different memory . A different memory of a different time, a different place. Stripes equaled Spencer here. Solids, Spencer there. She inhaled his scent and let herself go to that familiar place. The place she so carefully avoided in the daylight, the place where she’d been loved and desired, once upon a time. It was a safe place, not like where she’d spent most of her time lately. Stuck between anyone and everyone watching her fall apart and caring all together, she replayed the Technicolor movie in her mind—of all that was had, all that was lost, and all that would never be again. Her husband was gay the whole time she knew they would say, but never to her face. We all knew it— but poor Jessica, she always was so oblivious. How could she have missed it, they’d whisper. Look at all those shirts he had. How many men have that many shirts?