Mid Life Love

by Whitney Gracia Williams

  I tried not to laugh. “So, it’s a friendly rivalry?”

  “No.” He pulled in front of my house and turned to face me. “We’re polite whenever we see each other, but we don’t get along at all...Between you and me, I really respect him, but it always seems like he has the upper-hand, like he always gets the best stuff first. I feel like no matter what I do, I’m always getting his sloppy seconds.”

  Shit...“Umm...”

  “I’m so sorry.” He kissed my cheek. “I shouldn’t be talking about my competitor. I should be focusing on you.” He stepped out and opened my door.

  Once I was out of the car, he pulled my luggage from his trunk and walked me up to my house.

  “You sure you don’t want to come tonight?” He stepped closer to me. “We wouldn’t have to stay the whole time. Actually, if you want, we could go for five minutes and then we could go back to my place. ”

  I felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach as he smiled his pearly whites.

  See? You can have feelings for someone else...“I’m sure...” I leaned forward to kiss him.

  He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me even closer, so close that I could feel the large bulge in his pants. Then I felt my stomach’s butterflies fluttering harder, making sounds.

  Ugh...These aren’t feelings...I’m just hungry...

  “Thank you for picking me up from the airport, Damien.” I pulled away to catch my breath.

  “You’re more than welcome.” He stepped back. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  “Am I being friend-zoned?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’ve been dating for a while now and...You hold back whenever we kiss and you never invite me in.” He looked concerned.

  “If we were platonic friends, I wouldn’t be kissing you at all.” I kissed his lips again to make a point. “You’re definitely not being friend-zoned. I just like to wait a while before I invite someone in.” Unless it’s Jonathan Statham...

  “I understand. Would you like to be my date to the Juniper conference next week? It’s a week-long event and it’s at a huge resort in the suburbs...I can get you a separate suite if you don’t feel comfortable sharing.”

  Maybe it’ll help you move on if you share...“No need for a separate suite.” I stood on my toes and kissed him again. “I’d love to go with you.”

  “Okay. Well, I’ll set everything up and give you all the details over dinner Thursday. Good night, Claire.”

  “Goodnight Jon—” I cleared my throat. “Damien. Goodnight, Damien.”

  Two days later...

  I tossed Ashley’s cell phone into a bowl of water and placed it in the freezer. I wasn’t one of those parents who trusted their kids to not use their phone just because I said so. I made sure “no cell phone” really meant “no cell phone.”

  I saw tears streaming down her face as I continued my lecture, but they weren’t having a sympathetic effect on me at all.

  “What if you’d wrecked my car? What if something had happened to you? And to top it off you’d been drinking? What would have happened if the police pulled you over and you got a DUI—at sixteen? You could’ve ruined your life before it even began! Did you think about that?” My voice was louder than it’d ever been. “I’ve raised you so much better than that, Ashley Marie Gracen. I can’t even...I can’t talk to you right now.” I shook my head. “Go to your room. Get used to being in there for the next four months.”

  “I really am sorry...” She sniffled as she walked away.

  I leaned against the counter and shook my head, exhaling over and over again. I was beyond furious with her and extremely confused as to why she’d snitched on herself; I would’ve never known about this past weekend if she didn’t mention it—and it wasn’t like her to mention it. That wasn’t her personality at all.

  Before I could get through a recap of my vacation, she’d blurted everything out: Late night date. Hotel. Beer. Taking my car without permission.

  She’d sobbed as she told me what happened, and even though she emphasized that she brought my car back “without a single scratch” and promised to “never drink again,” I had to punish her to prevent this from ever happening again.

  Is four months long enough?

  I grabbed a carton of mint chocolate chip ice cream and walked into the living room. I plopped down on the sofa and sifted through the channels, searching for something happy to watch. I needed to clear my brain.

  Unfortunately, there was nothing on but late afternoon talk shows; Dr. Phil was a re-run, and I’d seen all the shows on HGTV before. I started flipping through the premium channels and stopped once I saw Harry Potter.

  I sighed.

  It wasn’t that long ago that Jonathan had come over and watched that with me, Ashley, and Caroline. As a matter of fact, the day it happened, it was like I wasn’t even there: The three of them talked through most of the movie. They argued about what was true to the book and what wasn’t, what parts they liked the best, and who was the biggest fan. It was so bad that at one point, they started betting each other on film trivia—using chocolate “shots” to punish whoever got the facts wrong.

  When the film was over and Caroline emerged as the winner, I thought he and I would finally get some alone time, but they decided to watch the next film in the series.

  I turned the TV off and went up to my room, crashing face first onto my bed. It’d been three months since I’d broken up with Jonathan and I’d once again failed to go a day without thinking about him.

  I thought that more time away from him would make him fade from my memory; that every day that passed would be another day that he wouldn’t infiltrate my thoughts, and that dating someone else would help erase him, but that was far from the truth.

  He crossed my mind every time I went to sleep alone, every time I woke up without him by my side, and every time I stepped into my new office where no flowers were waiting for me.

  I felt a lump rising up my throat and began to cry. I didn’t attempt to wipe the tears away; I let them fall and rolled over on my side, allowing our memories to play in my mind over and over.

  I was remembering our first date, remembering when he pushed me against the railing and slipped his arms around my waist. Just as he was about to press his lips against mine, my phone rang and interrupted the memory. Damien.

  “Hello?” I answered softly.

  “Hey, sweetheart. Are we still on for our date tonight?”

  Shit, I forgot all about that...“Sure, what time should I be ready?”

  “Seven o’ clock. Are you okay? You sound a little sick.”

  “Oh, yeah.” I sniffled. “I’m fine. Allergies, you know?”

  “Do you want to stay in instead? We can—”

  “No, no...I’ll take a Zyrtec or something. I really need—I mean, I really want to go out tonight.”

  “Okay, then. I can’t wait to see you.”

  “Me either. See you soon.” I hung up and looked at my watch—four o’clock.

  I decided to take my time getting ready, thinking that that would help me keep my memories of Jonathan at bay.

  I rolled off the bed and ran a warm bath with extra bubbles. I set my favorite scented candles all around the ledge and quickly undressed, slipping my body underneath the suds.

  “Ahhhh...” I lay back and let my shoulders touch the cool ceramic. I reached for my waterproof radio and tuned it to the classical music station, wincing once I heard a familiar refrain. It was the song Jonathan and I danced to on his yacht.

  “Step back...Step forward...Your dancing is getting a lot better, Claire...I think we should finish this lesson downstairs...”

  I changed the station. Talk radio.

  “And in financial news this afternoon, Statham Industries is set to reach yet another milestone as its presale orders have practically toppled the—”

  I shut it off. I slid completely under the water, letting my head go undernea
th, holding myself there as I tried to fight the onslaught of more memories:

  We were sitting in the tub together, watching each other—smiling at nothing at all, laughing without a care in the world.

  “Come here, Claire.” He reached out for me to move across the Jacuzzi, rolling his eyes when I didn’t move. He slid over to my side and put his arm around me. “Your difficulty never ceases to amaze me...Is taking a bubble bath your favorite thing to do?”

  “Yeah, but it’s ten times better when I’m alone.”

  “Stop lying to me.”

  “Who said I was lying?” I reached up and threaded my fingers through his hair, looking into his eyes as he gazed back into mine. I leaned in and brought his head down lower for a kiss, but he moved back.

  “Stop.” He moved my hand away from him and shook his head, sighing. He pulled me into his lap—holding me against his chest, and then he kissed me. “I love you, Claire.”

  My heart stopped, my body stilled. I wasn’t sure what to say. “I—”

  “You don’t have to say it back.” He planted kisses along my throat. “I know you’re extremely fragile and not sure about exactly what this is, but I want you to know that I do love you and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you...I’ll do whatever you ask me to do if it’ll make you happy.”

  He brought his hand up and ran his fingers through my hair, softly kissing my lips—rendering me completely speechless again. “And before you even attempt to ask the obvious, I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Ever. Only you.”

  I shot back up to the surface and gasped for air, inhaling as much of it as I could.

  As I finished my bath, I wiped away tear after tear, knowing that if Jonathan was here, he wouldn’t let me cry; he would find a way to make me laugh.

  I blew out the candles that surrounded me and climbed out of the tub. Holding back the rest of my tears, I wrapped myself in a robe, the same one he’d seen me in when he first came over.

  I opened my closet and thumbed through my dresses—stopping once I saw the ones he’d bought me for the IPO ball:

  “I like this one...” I twirled around in a one shoulder white gown that barely touched the floor. “It doesn’t make me look like too much of a bride though, does it?”

  He leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

  “Are you going to be like this all day? You haven’t said anything about any of the dresses I’ve tried on. Do you not care what I wear to the ball? Are you using your silence to tell me that you don’t want me to go with you anymore?”

  He raised his eyebrow.

  “Miss Gracen? Are you ready for the next dress?” the attendant asked. “Mr. Statham picked out another one while you were trying on this one.”

  “Are you going to speak to me at all today?” I narrowed my eyes at him, waiting for him to answer, but he didn’t say a word.

  I rolled my eyes and turned around, following the attendant back into the dressing room.

  I slowly slipped out of the white gown and watched as she unzipped the black bag that hung over the door. As she removed the dress from the plastic, I gasped.

  “Stunning isn’t it?” She smiled and signaled for me to raise my hands above my head. She took her time pulling it over me—zipping up the back, and aligning the strapless top.

  I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head. The dress was flawless. It was a nude colored gown that accentuated my every curve. It was covered in sparkling crystals and the sweetheart neckline gave way to a skirt that fell in soft satin waves, a skirt that made it appear like I was floating as I walked.

  “Miss Gracen?” The attendant held the door open for me. “Are you ready now?”

  I nodded.

  I walked into the studio room, immediately feeling the pressure of Jonathan’s eyes on my body with every step I took. I stepped onto the small platform and moved in front of the tri-fold mirror.

  “Are you going to say something about this one?” My eyes connected with his. “Why haven’t you said anything? You don’t like any of the dresses?”

  He blinked. Then he stood up and walked onto the platform, circling around me like he was assessing every inch of me.

  “You’ve looked beautiful in every dress you’ve tried on today—every single one.” He trailed his fingertips across my bare shoulders. “I’ll buy them all.”

  “But I can only wear one to the IPO ball. You’re supposed to help me choose which—”

  “I will.” He pressed his finger against my lips. “After you try them on for me again at home...”

  I flipped past all twelve of those dresses and picked out a small little black dress. It was extremely simple, but it had a few elegant details along the straps that made it stand out.

  I snapped on a bra and pulled the dress over my head. As I was doing my make-up, the doorbell rang.

  It’s only six o’ clock... He’s an hour early? “Ashley! Caroline! Go get the door!”

  I put on a thick layer of mascara and a touch of blush. I brushed glittering bronze over both my eyelids and the doorbell rang again.

  “Ashley and Caroline, get the door please!” I took out a tube of red lipstick. I was about to place it against my mouth, but the doorbell rang again.

  Ugh! Are they sleeping or something?!

  I rushed down the steps and opened the door. Jonathan.

  He was wearing black slacks and a white button down shirt—with the sleeves pushed back to his elbows, with the top buttons undone. He didn’t look too happy to see me. He looked enraged, like he was about to hurt someone.

  My heart started racing and I tried to say something—anything, but no words came out of my mouth.

  “Hello, Claire.” He seethed.

  Silence.

  He looked me up and down, narrowing his eyes at me. “You look really nice...Are you going somewhere?”

  “Yes...”

  “And where would that be?”

  “I’m...” I took a step back. “I’m going out on a date...”

  “Really?”

  “Yes...”

  “You sure about that?” He shut the door and moved forward.

  “Jonathan, I’m—” I felt his lips against mine, his arms possessively folding around me.

  I murmured as he slid his hands underneath my dress, as he whispered, “You’re not going anywhere” against my neck.

  My knees started to buckle and he caught me before I could fall. He assaulted my mouth with his tongue until I couldn’t breathe, and then he carried me upstairs to my room.

  “You’re still mine.” He tossed me onto the bed and moved on top of me. “You’ll always be mine.” He kissed me again and again, making me moan at the passionate touches I’d been missing all these months.

  “I meant to say I love you too...” I choked out once he let my lips go. “I love you too...”

  He ripped my dress off and kissed a line down my stomach. “Then why’d you leave me?”

  “Ahhh...” I felt his tongue swirling between my thighs, preventing me from answering.

  “You shouldn’t have left me.” He unbuttoned his jeans and slid them off. Then he moved back up and straddled me, looking deep into my eyes. “You really shouldn’t have done that.” He pushed his dick into me—taking his time entering, sliding in inch by inch.

  “Please....”

  “Please what, Claire? Give you what you want even though you don’t deserve it?” He wasn’t even halfway inside yet; he was teasing my nipples with his tongue, enjoying my frustration.

  “Please, just—” The loud ring of the doorbell interrupted my sentence. “Just fuck me...”

  “Shouldn’t you go get the door?” He raised his eyebrow. “It’s probably your date.”

  I shook my head.

  “Why not?” He slid in further. “It’s not nice to keep him waiting.”

  Before I could respond, he buried himself deep inside of me and I wrapped my legs around him. He thrust into me wildly—kissing my lips to stif
le my screams, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

  “Mom! Mom!” Caroline called from the other side of my door. “Damien’s outside!”

  Jonathan smiled and slowed his rhythm. He pushed my legs away from his waist and rolled over so I was on top of him. “Move.”

  I did as I was told, rocking my hips against him, leaning down to kiss his lips—not ever wanting to stop, but then my door opened and in walked Caroline—then Ashley.

  “Um, Damien is downstairs...” “We told him to wait in the living room.”

  My eyes widened and I gasped. I reached for a blanket to pull over my body and looked down at Jonathan—only he wasn’t there.

  It was only a dream.

  It was only a dream?!

  My chest tightened and tears formed at the corner of my eyes. I rolled off my bed and onto the floor, staring straight ahead.

  “Do you want us to tell him you’re not here?” “We should tell him that anyway...” “Why? I thought we agreed that we liked him.” “We do, but I don’t think she does...He is pretty hot though.” “You think he’s as hot as Jonathan?” “Ha! No! But if she ever asks, we should say yes to make her feel better.” “Hmmm. Okay.” “Well, I don’t think I’m allowed out of my room for more than five minutes so you should probably go tell him that she’s not—”

  “No, it’s okay...” I stood up. “Thank you.”

  Chapter 31

  Claire

  I rearranged my clothes in the hotel suite’s closet for the umpteenth time and shut the doors. Bored, I walked into the living room and sat across from Damien.

  “Is that five or six shipments?” He gave me an apologetic smile as he continued to talk on the phone. “Can you get that verified by receiving please? Yeah...No, I’m at the Juniper conference...Seven days, so that gives you plenty of time to figure out what’s going on...Alright. Keep me posted.” He set his phone down and sighed. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

  “It’s okay. It’s a working vacation. I completely understand.”