by Jewel E. Ann
“Making dinner.”
After taking another sip of his drink, he slammed his cup down on the bar. “That’s not what I mean!” he growled.
Pausing to absorb the impact of his reaction, I took a deep breath and continued slicing the knife through the carrots. Keeping my eyes on the cutting board, I felt his body press to the back of mine. He grabbed my right wrist and squeezed it until I dropped the knife. My whole body tensed from his firm grasp. Closing my eyes, I willed myself to stay calm. I wasn’t sure how much alcohol he’d had, but I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. He moved forward another step until I was pinned against the counter. His hands moved to my hips, then he slid them down to the hem of my dress.
“If you needed a quick fuck, all you had to do was say so. I’m sure you felt a little left out last night.” His voice grated in my ear. Both hands fisted the hem of my dress, then he pulled it up completely exposing me.
My breath caught in my throat. He was trying to scare me, but I knew the man who called me the love of his life and that’s who I focused on as I closed my eyes and braced my hands on the counter. My teeth gritted together as he ripped my panties off. His hard cock straining against his pants rubbed into my backside.
“Is this what you want?” he seethed as I heard the sound of his zipper. I was grateful that he couldn’t see my face because tears were streaming down my cheeks. A moment later I felt the warm flesh of his erection at my entrance. He wanted to make me feel violated and used, so I did the only thing I could think of to turn the tables.
“I love you, Quinn.” The words weren’t a plea, they were a promise.
No matter how hard he tried to make me hate him, I never would. His body stilled. I waited to feel him push into me, but he didn’t. Keeping my eyes closed, I felt the loss of all contact, but I remained static. A few moments later the front door slammed, and I opened my eyes to find myself alone. I pushed down my dress and picked my shredded panties up off the floor and tossed them in the trash. Then I wiped my eyes and continued making dinner. There was no time for a pity party, no room for weakness, and no turning back.
Round three goes to Addy.
*
As expected, a few hours later Quinn came barging through the door drunk with a new flavor hanging all over him. Before they had the chance to get upstairs without acknowledging me, I clicked off the TV and strutted to the stairs like I owned the place. His guest glared at me.
“Who is she?” she sneered.
“I’m the love of his life,” I said with a strong, confident voice as I walked upstairs in front of them. A few steps into the guest room I turned and caught Quinn’s eyes as he paused a minute before he started to shut the door.
“I still love you.” I held his steel gaze until the door closed. Sucking in a shaky breath, I collapsed on the bed and prayed for time to pass quickly. It didn’t. I was cutting myself again with him—the man I loved was in that beautiful body … somewhere.
Sleep didn’t find me, so by four-thirty the next morning I was downstairs doing yoga by the large windows in the illumination of the city lights. Each move grounded me, and with every breath I gained strength for another day. By five o’clock I heard Quinn jog down the stairs. He was dressed to work out again. I paused only briefly when he turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs and met my eyes. The mix of anguish and contempt on his face made me wonder if this torture would ever end. The early twenties Addy was gone forever, but I hated the thought of the Quinn who made love to me on the beach in the Canary Islands vanishing from existence. I just couldn’t let him go.
“Good morning,” I whispered with a warm smile.
He grabbed his keys and stared at them in his hand. “I fly out of town tonight. When I get back on Monday I expect you and all your shit to be out of here.”
“No,” was all I said as I continued to the next pose.
“Dammit, Addy!” he yelled as he crossed the room and stood at the end of my mat. The twitch in his jaw was menacing; he was on edge and I was pushing him to his limit. “We are over. You need to get that!”
Standing straight up, I came toe-to-toe with him, refusing to back down. “We will never be over. You need to get that,” I growled back through clenched teeth before brushing past him. As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard the front door slam shut.
We were at the point in a fight where it was impossible to keep score; both contenders had bleeding cuts and wobbled to stay standing. It was no longer about tactics or outsmarting the opponent. The victory would be won by sheer determination and the stamina to go the distance. It had to be me. I didn’t put my life on hold and drive fourteen hours to watch him fuck a new girl every night and verbally abuse me just to stick my tail between my legs and go home empty handed to Chicago.
*
The rest of the day was uneventful. The hussy from the previous night made her walk of shame, I greeted her and offered her breakfast, she declined and left. I called Mac during lunch and shared a play-by-play of the saga. She was speechless, which was a first for her.
“Am I totally insane?” I knew the answer, but I needed to hear it from her.
“Yes, but in a completely diehard romantic way. Seriously, who watches the person they love traipse a new woman to bed every night and then offers them breakfast in the morning?”
“What can I say, I like to think outside of the box.”
“Outside of the box? Are you kidding me? We’re talking not even in the same physical dimension. But I’ve got to hand it to you, Addy, you’ve got the biggest balls I’ve ever seen.”
We both laughed for a moment, then a serious silence settled over the line. “What if it’s not enough? What if I’ve already lost him?” My voice quavered.
“Stop, don’t you dare think that. You’ll get through, just don’t––”
“Don’t what?”
She hesitated. “Just don’t lose yourself along the way. No man is worth that, okay?”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My life felt like everything with him and nothing without him. Maybe I’d already lost myself in him. Maybe I wasn’t just searching for the Quinn I remembered, maybe I was searching for the version of myself that only existed with him.
“No matter what, you’re coming home for Thanksgiving, right?”
That was two weeks away and I’d honestly forgotten about it. Leaving Quinn was not an option, but in Mac’s mind neither was skipping out on Thanksgiving. That only left me with one option. I had to get through to him in the next fourteen days. It wasn’t going to be easy, especially since he was leaving that night and I wouldn’t be with him all weekend.
“Right, Thanksgiving … no matter what.”
“Great! See you in two weeks. Good luck, sweetie, and don’t worry, he’ll come around.”
“Thanks.” But I wasn’t so sure.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Journal Day 85
Grateful for Quinn’s return, even if the clock is ticking.
The weekend was lonely and boring. Wondering where Quinn was and with whom he was traveling wreaked havoc on my sanity. By Monday morning my nerves were buzzing with anticipation. He usually came home after his trips before going to his office, but my presence had changed his routine a bit, so I had no idea when to expect him. I felt like the kid who waited out the countdown to punishment and was still standing defiantly when the clock reached zero. He had made it clear that I was to be gone by the time he came home, but I wasn’t. My “shit” was in the same place as it was when he left. I’d even gone with Helen on Friday afternoon to get groceries. She was a little confused about our new living arrangements, but I assured her it was temporary until we ironed things out. Helen was a woman of very few words, but the inquisitive look in her eyes told me the wheels in her head were constantly turning. I could only imagine what she thought about the mess between me and Quinn.
It was almost noon by the time Quinn came home. My time was up. The countdown was over. We were at zero. As promised, I st
ayed, but it was his play and I anxiously waited for his next move. After tossing his keys on the counter, he pegged me at the kitchen table and shook his head. “Have it your way,” he mumbled as he carried his bags up the stairs.
It was only a matter of moments before I saw what “my way” was. Quinn paraded down the stairs with his arms full of my clothes from his closet. He opened the front door and tossed them into the hallway.
Shit!
Then he marched back up the stairs and repeated the same process until all of my belongings were strewn out in the hall. I didn’t make any attempt to move the whole time, and he never looked in my direction. When he finished he grabbed my handbag by the door and riffled through it. Eventually he pulled out the key to his condo. Then his eyes found mine again and he charged toward me as if I was a bug he was getting ready to squash. In those few seconds that it took for him to reach me, I felt like the child about to get spanked. There was no escape. My ass was glued to the kitchen chair, but not for long. He grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder.
“Time’s up. Take your stubborn ass home and leave me the fuck alone!” With little regard for how I landed, he tossed me down on top of my stuff in the hall and slammed the door.
Round four goes to Quinn. Shit, shit, double shit!
*
Money can’t buy happiness, true story. I had enough money to buy the entire building, yet there I sat on my ass amongst my “shit” in the hallway connecting multi-million dollar condominiums. Well done, Addy.
While I was wallowing in self-pity, there was a brief moment when I thought the universe had delivered the official sign that I wasn’t meant to be with Quinn. Then an angel of mercy appeared in the form of Quinn’s neighbor, Mr. Grant. The tall, balding man was in his seventies and we had shared pleasantries numerous times when I had lived with Quinn. His wife was a cancer survivor who rarely left the building except to go on doctor’s visits. He was heading out when the disaster in the hallway stopped him in his tracks.
“Addy?”
“Hey, Mr. Grant, how’s it going?” I asked casually as if I didn’t look like the most pathetic person in the world.
“I take it you and Mr. Cohen had a falling-out?” he asked with raised eyebrows as he scanned over my belongings.
I stood up and brushed off my jeans. “No, why would you think that?”
He tilted his head to the side and shot me a disapproving look.
I sighed. “Okay, yes, but it’s just temporary.”
“Well, good luck with that, dear. The missus and I are leaving for the winter, so you won’t have to worry about your lover’s feuds disturbing us.” He started to walk toward the elevator.
“Wait!” I called as I hurried to him. “Do you have someone staying at your place while you’re gone?”
He shook his head. “No need, we don’t have plants or pets so—”
“Could I rent your condo from you for say … the next month?” My puppy dog eyes pleaded with his as much as my soft but urgent voice.
It wasn’t looking too promising from the apprehensive wrinkles in his nose, but I was desperate. “I’ll pay you.”
“How much?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
“Ten grand.”
“Thirty,” he countered.
“Twenty.”
“Twenty-five, last chance,” he deadpanned.
Quinn’s door opened and he started walking toward the elevators where we were standing.
“Fine,” I whispered through gritted teeth, “but I move my stuff in today.”
We both turned and smiled at Quinn as he approached. “Mr. Grant.” He nodded his head in greeting while completely ignoring me. As he stepped into the elevator, Mr. Grant shared the news.
“Well, Mr. Cohen, looks like your lady friend will be staying at my condo for the next month.”
The doors were closing as Quinn tried to reach his hand out and stop them. “What the—” he started to yell, but his voice faded as the doors completely shut and the elevator descended.
Yep, round five goes to Addy.
*
The Grants’ condo was a similar floor plan to Quinn’s, but the earthy tones, silk floral arrangements, and decor pillows gave it a homier feel. A woman’s touch did that. I had the hall cleared by three o’clock, and I even arranged for the Grants’ transportation to the airport. It was a fortunate change of events that I was able to stay next door to Quinn, but it still put me out of sight … and maybe out of mind. The sad truth was I honestly had no idea what my next move would be. It seemed pretty unlikely that he would accept a neighborly dinner invite. He would be at work most of the time, and his evenings were unpredictable. I needed an in, but I had no idea what that was.
The next two days were uneventful. I didn’t see Quinn once. The clock was ticking and I had to step up my game, which wasn’t hard when at that moment I wasn’t even in the game. My first task was to elicit help tracking Quinn. I called Tom at the front desk and pleaded my case. All I needed was for him to alert me when he saw Quinn pull into the parking garage on the security cameras. He was apprehensive about it, even though I assumed he felt indebted to me after the gift I gave him on the security camera—the infamous girl hits Lamborghini, boy gets blow job in the parking garage incident. But like all the other greedy bastards in the building, Tom had his price too and once I found it, he was putty in my hands.
My phone rang with the heads-up call around 8:00 p.m. Tom also kindly warned me Quinn wasn’t alone. No big surprise. There was no changing the fact that I’d fallen in love with an eternal playboy. I had been patiently waiting for hours, dressed in my shortest black cocktail dress and fuck-me heels. My makeup and long wavy hair looked like I was ready for a photo shoot. I grabbed my clutch purse and spied out the peephole until the elevator doors opened.
Deep breath … I am peaceful, I am strong.
I threw back my shoulders and opened the door. As he stepped off the elevator with his bleach blonde easy lay for the night, he came to an abrupt halt, almost sending her face to the floor as she tripped over his feet. As I confidently strutted toward the elevator, his eyes raked over my body exactly how I knew they would.
My perfect, fake smile was appropriate for that meeting. “Hello, Mr. Cohen and … friend, have a pleasant evening.” I kept moving right past them into the elevator then turned around and pushed the button. Right as the doors started to close, Quinn shoved his foot into one side stopping them. He held up his finger and motioned for the girl to wait, then he stepped into the elevator mere inches from me as the doors closed behind him.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” he asked in a slow, deep, agitated voice.
My heels put me up a few more inches on him allowing his alcohol-laden breath to drift over my face. “I’m going out.”
“Alone … in this?” He nodded his head motioning to my provocative attire.
I put my hands on my hips, “Yes, I’m going out alone, but I’m pretty sure because of this…” I ran my hands down my hips and pushed my chest farther in his direction “…I won’t be coming home alone.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he growled inching even closer.
“It means while you have your head in your ass and your dick in some other girl, I’m going to find someone else to scratch my itch.”
The elevator chimed as the doors opened. I stepped to the side and went to walk out when he grabbed my arm and turned me back into him.
“Nobody else is going to scratch your fucking—”
“Hands off!” I snapped as I stepped back out of the elevator. “If we’re over, then why the hell do you care who I’m under tonight?” He had nothing to say. “That’s what I thought. Good night, Quinn.” I hustled away, leaving him in the same pile of agony he’d been leaving me in since I arrived in New York. Mission accomplished for the night. The only kink in my plan was that I had no intention of bringing some stranger home. I found a hotel to stay at for the night and I mad
e sure to get home the next morning right around 5:00 a.m. My makeup was a little smeared and my hair was a disarray, but wearing the same dress and carrying my high heels was a stroke of genius, or so I thought.
As soon as I walked off the elevator, Quinn was standing by the Grants’ door, wearing his jogging pants and a hoodie.
“Where the hell have you been?”
“Good morning to you too.” I smiled as I nudged him aside so I could unlock the door. He followed me in and closed the door behind us.
“What do you want from me?” he asked, leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest.
Dropping my shoes on the floor, I turned to face him. “I don’t want anything from you. I just want you.” A huge weight was lifted from my chest. I was finally able to say the words I’d wanted to say from the moment I arrived.
“I can’t be with you.”
“Why not?”
“Because there’s too much in the past I can’t forget.”
He was preaching to the choir, but that excuse wasn’t going to work with me. “Yeah, well that’s exactly why I’m here. There’s too much in our past I can’t forget, like the way you used to look at me and touch me. The sound of your voice when we’d talk for hours on the phone, or the way you’d rearrange your entire schedule to be with me for only a few hours. I miss the feel of your body holding me in the morning and the taste of your lips when you kissed me goodbye. I miss the smell of you on me and the way I didn’t want to shower until I knew you were going to be home soon, because all of my senses craved you. I can’t forget the way my whole body felt alive and living for only you when we made love, or how you stole every last piece of my heart and captured my soul when you called me the love of your life and asked me to be your wife.” I laid my hands on his chest and looked up into his pained eyes. “It’s too much for me to live without you.”
He stood with his hands at his sides, completely still as he ignored my touch. Every cell in my body screamed for him to take me in his arms, but instead the rejection sent chills through me. Words were unnecessary. I could see it in his eyes, but he said it anyway. “I’m sorry, I can’t.” Then he turned and left.