Mr. Wonderful Lies

by Kaitlin Maitland

  There were less than ten people on the bus. I shoved some change into the slot at the top of the steps and sank into a seat near the middle just as the driver let off the protesting brakes and we lurched into motion. The bus smelled like ancient moldy cheese and probably hadn’t been cleaned since it was put into service. I normally don’t ride the bus for those reasons. Right then I had too much on my mind to care.

  I have a lot of old fashioned ideas. My parents have been married for nearly fifty years. I don’t have to be told that’s unusual. But they have permanently affected the way I see marriage. When I find the guy I’m going to marry I don’t want to think of it as a short-term thing. I’m not settling because there’s a way out later if I need it. It’s all or nothing for me.

  So what if my husband became an Ollie? What if he never stopped dating or constantly cheated or lived out dozens of relationships under false pretenses? How would I ever be able to look at a man again and not wonder?

  Scenery whipped by outside, the winter darkness falling quickly until bright lights from storefronts and neon signs streamed by the windows. We had stopped half a dozen times, but I stayed in the same cracked plastic seat. The frigid air inside the bus was slowly numbing my fingers and toes. I didn’t care.

  Since finding out that Ollie was married and my entire relationship was a farce, I’d only looked at the betrayal from one angle. Mine. But there was someone else I hadn’t considered. What about Carissa?

  Adultery is an ugly word. It had crossed my mind briefly when I caught Professor Jackass performing his social experiment, but we hadn’t been married. I’m not completely naïve. I know there are a lot of cheaters out there. But for some reason I’d lived in the happy belief that once I settled on my Mr. Wonderful and actually married him, that there would be no cheating. I hadn’t ever thought to apply the word Adultery to my relationship. And I sure as hell didn’t ever intend to be the other woman.

  Did she know? Did she even wonder? Had she caught him only to be told that he would stop? Did she love him? I wondered all of those things and more. But the one that trumped all the others was whether or not Carissa hated me though I hadn’t even known Ollie belonged to her. Did she blame me for leading her husband astray?

  The bus slowed, brakes squealing and engine grinding gears as the driver reached another stop. The bottom dropped out of my stomach and I felt lightheaded as I stood up, grabbing a nearby pole against a final lurch of the bus. My heart was thundering in my chest, pulse dancing in my throat, and my breath coming in short pants.

  I knew when my feet touched the sidewalk that I had no business being there. It wasn’t where I’d intended to go after leaving the gym, but it’d been my only reason for climbing aboard the bus.

  Modest brick storefronts lined both sides of the street. Lighted shop windows showcased boutique fashions, bakeries, neighborhood delicatessens and numerous Asian restaurants. There were plenty of cars whizzing by me on the street, but not much foot traffic. People were headed home from work.

  Turning away from the broad main street, I headed down the sidewalk of a quiet residential neighborhood. The homes were roughly the same age as my townhouse, with all brick construction and narrow windows. Leaves from the trees lining either side of the street filled the gutters. Cars were packed into tiny driveways before small, detached garages. Some of the houses were single units, others were duplexes or quads, almost all had lights on inside. It was dinnertime.

  Ollie and Carissa’s house wasn’t hard to find. I’d memorized the address from Ollie’s background check. I hadn’t meant to, but the number seemed burned into my brain as I walked six houses down until a small alley opened to my right. When I turned away from the alley, their house was directly across the street. It was a two story with soft, yellow lights in all four front windows. The remnants of last year’s flowers lined the walkway and nobody had taken the garbage cans back in after trash pickup. Ollie’s SUV was parked behind a minivan in the driveway.

  My chest grew tight and a strangled sob caught in my throat. I imagined what it might be like to come home every night to someone you loved. Did Carissa have dinner ready for him? Did they laugh and chat about their workdays as they finished setting the table? From the outside, they had everything. Why would Ollie risk that for a few nights with someone like me?

  Movement in the vicinity of what I took to be the kitchen caught my eye. I moved back, letting the shadows in the alley hide me from view as I shamelessly took that peep into Ollie’s real life.

  A stab of pain nearly made me keel over when Ollie walked into view. He was talking to someone. It was hard to read his expression, but I thought he might be smiling. I strained my eyes, willing the other person to move into view. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to see her. I had to know what she was like.

  My hand snaked out, gripping the side of the building until the brick cut deeply into my fingernail beds. He looked happy. Could I have made him happy? Could I make anyone happy?

  Carissa suddenly slipped into view, her slender form much shorter than Ollie’s. I could make out long, blonde hair swept up into a ponytail. My breath caught as though I’d been gut kicked. Ollie reached out, pulling her close. Carissa nestled in his big embrace, accepting a kiss on the forehead before burying her face in his broad shoulder.

  I didn’t remember the tears beginning, but hot rivers ran down both sides of my face and dribbled onto my hoodie. Silent sobs shook my shoulders and I forcefully held them in. My insides were on fire, burning with anger and shame and loneliness, yet I was ice cold on the outside. My fingers and toes were numb with the damp chill of the winter evening. If I stayed out much longer I was going to freeze, but I had no desire to return home to an empty house.

  A light came on upstairs and my eyes were drawn to the warm glow. Carissa still nestled in Ollie’s embrace downstairs and I wondered dumbly who’d gone upstairs. My heart stopped when a girl, nine or ten years old, leapt up onto the bed and began jumping. Blonde hair, so much like her mother’s, flew out behind her as she bounced up and down.

  I blinked, trying to decide if my eyes were working properly while my brain processed this latest development. Visions of abandoned naked Barbies flittered through my mind. Ollie was a father? The man methodically met women and set up new relationships as if living an alternate life. The idea of him doing this so casually to a wife was horrifying enough. That he would do such a thing when he was in the position of male role model to an impressionable little girl was so much worse.

  Downstairs, Carissa pulled away from Ollie and looked up at the ceiling. Ollie threw his head back and shouted. I could hear the timbre of his voice from where I stood though I couldn’t make out his words. On her bed, the little girl took one last big bounce before landing on her back and disappearing from view.

  I held my breath, waiting for the inevitable. Ollie disappeared from the kitchen and Carissa moved out of my sight. I no longer cared what she was doing. Moments later Ollie appeared in the bedroom window.

  The little girl obviously loved her daddy. She pounced on him as soon as he walked through the door. They tussled a little and he picked her up, swinging her around. I closed my eyes, unable to watch any more of the poignant scene. I didn’t know how I felt anymore. I was angry at Ollie, yet I wanted this for my own. For a moment, maybe more than a moment, I’d thought Ollie was my Mr. Wonderful. I’d thought we could have a house, with a little yard and eventually kids to share our lives. This was supposed to be my happily ever after.

  But it wasn’t. It was Carissa’s.

  And it wasn’t even hers, either.

  Over my head, a streetlight sputtered to life. I hadn’t noticed it when I’d first staked out my position at the mouth of the alley. The pavement around me was bathed in a sick orange glow and I cast a grotesque shadow on the walls. I felt exposed, my private longings naked in the light. It was time to go.

  I glanced up, wanting one last look at someone else’s life. My blood froze when I realized Oll
ie was staring out the window, right at me. Less than a second later, he disappeared from his daughter’s window.

  My instincts told me to flee but there was no place to go. I’d ridden the bus. I could’ve headed for the nearest bus stop, but Ollie would be there long before I was out of sight. Besides, a part of me wanted to stay and confront him. I wanted to call him to task for what he was doing. I wanted to force him to acknowledge that it was wrong. After what I’d seen in the gym earlier, I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that he’d admit fault or even care, but I wanted to try all the same.

  The front door opened and Ollie took the three steps in one leap. I swallowed thickly, adrenaline pouring into my bloodstream as he paced toward me. He was obviously angry. His square jaw was set and his teeth clenched. The thinning brown hair was mussed from wrestling with his little girl and he’d changed into jeans and a sweatshirt.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Megan?”

  He was positively looming over me, an angry bear backing me into a corner where he would eat me alive. I took a deep, steadying breath and remembered that I was not the condemned in this situation. “I wanted to see.”

  “See what?”

  His tone unleashed my anger. I frowned and stood my ground, setting my chin and glaring up at him. “I don’t know, Ollie, the truth?”

  “So you came all the way out here to tattle on me?”

  “If that’s what I was here to do, I’d have already done it. I just came because I wanted closure.”

  A cruel grin played at the corner of his mouth. “Closure? For what? You’re just like all the rest. Give you a few lines and tell you what you want to hear and you’ll spread your legs for anyone.”

  Tears stung my already red-rimmed eyes. “That’s all you care about? Getting laid? You don’t even care about the lives you’re ruining?”

  “Whose lives am I ruining? My family doesn’t know a damn thing about this.”

  “Maybe they should,” I retorted. “Maybe Carissa should know all about it so she can make her own informed decision about the man she married.”

  “Don’t threaten me, Megan. You won’t like the results.”

  My heart wrenched. Had we really come to this? “Was it all lies?” My voice broke. “Did you mean any of it?”

  “I said whatever it took to get what I wanted, Megan. That’s how the world works.”

  His expression was hard, face arranged in a mask of derision and indifference that cut me to the quick. Professor Jackass had hurt me. This was worse. “How can you do this? How can you stand here and tell me it was all about getting me into bed? If I’d said no that night, if I hadn’t gotten so drunk and I’d had enough of my wits about me to say no, would you have left and never called again?”

  He considered this and I felt just a breath of hope. “I’d have probably given it another week.”

  My hopes shriveled and died. Anger burned hot inside my heart and I lashed out with my hand, aiming to slap and instead brushing ineffectually against his broad chest. “Go to hell!”

  Ollie grabbed my arm, hand crushing the bones in my wrist as he twisted it painfully. I cried out, feeling real fear for the first time since making the idiotic decision to come see the truth for myself.

  “Let go or I’ll make good on every word of what I said earlier.”

  “Jared.” I stumbled in his direction. I didn’t know how or why Jared was in that alley, but I was more grateful than I could imagine that he was.

  He caught me when I would have fallen, gathering me close and pressing a kiss to my forehead. His arms wrapped securely around my chilled body, their familiar feel soothing my hurt. I inhaled deeply, the spicy, masculine scent of him filling me with a torrent of emotions I couldn’t decipher. I thought of Carissa in Ollie’s arms. Where would I rather be?

  “I told you what would happen if you butted in again, Walker,” Ollie growled.

  “Don’t kid yourself,” Jared warned. “I only came for Megan.”

  Ollie would have said more. He wanted to. His fists clenched at his sides, flexing as he got ready to throw a punch. Jared tensed around me, no doubt preparing to somehow put himself between me and harm. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want any of it. I wanted it to be over. That was the reason I’d come to see the truth for myself. I wanted closure, not conflict.

  “Don’t do this in front of your little girl, Ollie,” I said softly.

  “What’re you talking about? She’s inside.”

  “She’s watching us.” I nodded to the second story bedroom window.

  Ollie whipped around, Jared and I forgotten. His daughter was watching, but she wasn’t the only one.

  “Mother of God,” he muttered before turning one more time to us. “Get the hell out of here and don’t come back.”

  I took a deep breath and told the truth. “I won’t.”

  Jared watched Ollie long enough to know that he was really going before turning around. “I’m going to get you home, Megan. You’re freezing cold.”

  In the eerie illumination of the streetlight, the grille of his low-slung sports car was just visible in the alley. My sluggish mind processed that thought in wonder. There was no other way in. That meant Jared had been parked behind me the whole time I’d been peeping shamelessly into Ollie’s life.

  I thought I’d die with the shame. Just when I thought I’d hit rock bottom, something else would knock me just a little lower.

  Chapter Thirteen

  I tried to open the front door to my townhouse, but my fingers couldn’t manage my keys. Jared had cranked the heat inside his car, but my whole body was still numb with shock and horror. I fumbled and the keys slipped from my hands. A frustrated sob stuck in my throat.

  “It’s okay, Megan.” He leaned down and grabbed the keys before deftly inserting the right one into the lock. “Let’s get you inside.”

  My clothes were clammy from the chill, damp air I’d stood in for nearly an hour. I shivered as I stepped through the door, the slightly warmer air inside my townhouse not warding off the bone deep cold.

  “You need to get out of those wet clothes,” he told me, nudging me further into the house.

  “All my stuff is upstairs.”

  “Come on, then. Upstairs it is.”

  I didn’t move. I don’t think I could have.

  He made a noise in the back of his throat and lifted me effortlessly into his arms. I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. He was warm, and his hard body was supple against mine. Not long ago I would have worried whether or not he thought I was heavier than I should be, or thought I smelled good or if having to carry me up the narrow stairs was a burden he’d rather not deal with. At that moment I was too emotionally spent to focus on anything but the sensation of being close to him.

  He climbed the stairs, slowing at the turn to carefully maneuver my feet out of harm’s way. Fragmented memories of the night another man had carried me up those same stairs tore at the ragged edges of my wounded heart. Would they ever stop? Would anything ever chase them away and make me whole again?

  Jared slowly lowered me to the floor in my bedroom and steadied me with gentle hands. “Robe?”

  I swallowed around the lump in my throat. “Bathroom.”

  He disappeared back out the bedroom door.

  I wasn’t wearing much in the way of clothing. In fact, I was still in the sweatpants and hoodie I’d rummaged from the laundry room days before. My sense of time was fuzzy and uncertain. How long had it been since Ollie had sweet-talked his way into my bed with wine and roses?

  I tore off the hoodie and dropped my sweatpants in the same motion, stepping aside and pushing my clothes toward the hamper in the corner. Gooseflesh erupted on my skin. I had opted in favor of an old lycra camisole top instead of a bra after removing my bathing suit in the locker room. Now it was damp both from my swim and my outdoor vigil. My breasts were heavy beneath it, my nipples peaking into hard points in the cold air. Nothing but a skimpy pair of bikini underwear covered my lo
wer half.

  “Here Megan, wrap up in this and…”

  I turned toward the door when he entered. He stopped short, his shock palpable. My thick, cotton robe fell from his fingers into a pool of soft pale green fabric on the scarred wood floor.

  I didn’t pause. If I had stopped for one coherent thought my courage would have left me high and dry. Instead, I reached for him. I wound my arms around his neck and pressed my lips to his.

  He was surprised at first. Why wouldn’t he be? But I could feel the moment his surprise turned to something else. His mouth opened, his tongue sliding inside my mouth to rub alongside mine. His arms wrapped around me, his hands slipping beneath the loose hem of my cami and coming to rest on the cool, bare skin of my back. I groaned at the contact, undulating against him in a plea for more.

  He pulled back briefly, “Megan, what are you doing?”

  “Loving you.”

  He growled, pushing against me until the backs of my knees hit my bed and I tumbled backwards. He caught his weight on his forearms, kissing me in earnest now, making love to me with his mouth until I thought I would die with desire. I wanted this. No, I needed it. I needed to be loved, to know that someone wanted me, even if it were only for a little while.

  My hands pulled the soft cotton of his T-shirt up to expose the hard expanse of his belly. His muscles shrank away reflexively, his body reacting to my exploration even as his hand settled on my breast.

  I quested lower, delving below his waistband to find him rock hard and ready. I began pushing at the waistband of his pants, wanting to feel his acceptance when he made love to me.

  His hand caught mine, pulling me gently away from my goal. Rearing back, his gaze searched my face, causing me to squirm against him. “Megan, slow down.”

  “No, please Jared,” I gasped, willing him with my body to understand. “I need you. Make love to me. Show me you love me.”

  The sight of his handsome face in such turmoil would be burned into my memory forever. I could see the play of emotion across his features, the desire, the restraint, the love and passion. His blue eyes were mesmerizing, his mouth curving into a sad smile.