by ANDREA SMITH
"How else did he support you?"
"I'm not sure what you mean, Karla. Trey works fifty to sixty hours a week. Even when he's home he brings work with him. He was very sympathetic about my condition."
"Now that's an interesting way to put it."
(Oh good Lord - what psychological bell or whistle had I set off now with that simple statement?)
"What do you mean?" I asked, watching her scribble.
"Well you used the word 'sympathetic' to describe Trey's reaction to your difficult pregnancy."
"Well he was very sympathetic. Is that wrong?"
"No, not at all," she smiled. "I just wondered why you didn't use the word 'empathetic' instead."
"Well come on, Karla; they practically mean the same thing."
"But there is a difference and you get that, right?"
I was getting irritated with her patronizing attitude towards me. Was this some test of my scholarly ability?
"Yes, yes," I halfway snapped. "I know the difference."
"Explain it to me, please."
(My God! She was treating me like a student!)
I rolled my eyes before answering. She caught it, I could tell.
"Sympathy is feeling sorry or having pity for someone that is experiencing something that the person who is sympathizing can't relate to at the moment. Empathy is more like feeling what that person is feeling; placing yourself in that person's place as much as possible and feeling it with them."
"Very good. So you chose 'sympathetic' on purpose?"
"Yes, Karla."
"When was the last time that you and Trey took a vacation away from everyone, other than each other."
I didn't have to think for more than a nanosecond.
"Our two-day honeymoon."
"Yes, I think I recalled in my notes that Trey felt that was a stressor for you because of having to leave the baby."
"That's right."
"So, does Trey have vacation from his practice? Do you have the opportunity of spending some alone time away from everything?"
"Trey mostly takes a day here or there when he needs to. I mean we've had a lot going on, so I guess to answer your question, it has never come up. He is a senior partner and it's demanding. Then when they hired Amber, he had to spend even more time mentoring her as a junior partner. I mean the success of the firm is dependent upon how successful each partner is in billing hours and reaching favorable settlements."
"Very good," she said smiling.
(Very good what?)
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"You've got it all down pat as far as what Trey's priorities have been."
(She was starting to really piss me off!)
"He's my husband. I understand his career. He has given me free reign to have one of my own."
"Tell me about your career, Tylar."
"I handle the horses at our ranch. I worked with Marcus to get licensed for boarding and breeding."
"Worked, as in past tense?" she asked.
"Well, I had to take the last couple of months during my pregnancy off when I was just so tired; then after I recovered I went back to it for a few weeks. Then Trey and I separated for a few weeks and we just reconciled this past week. So I will be jumping back into it now that I'm home."
"I'll tell you what, give me the details on what caused the separation between you and Trey, so that I can make notes. Then what led up to the reconciliation. I want time to digest this before our next visit. I'm sure that I will have some questions. "
(Oh I was absolutely sure that she would…)
I filled her in on the basic information relative to Amber and Trey's making out; my escape to my father's home where I proceeded to act out my lost youth, and then what transpired with Trey and I after that. I didn't give her any information about Trey's questioning me in bed about what Danny did or didn't do. I decided to save that tidbit for our next visit. I was sure her questioning would uncover it without my offering it up.
Karla instructed me to schedule another appointment one-on-one before she would decide as to whether she wanted to counsel Trey and I as a couple. I thought that this was a bit strange, but it was her practice I suppose to handle however she wished.
I called Gina from my Blackberry on my way home. I confirmed that Trey and I would be meeting her and Tristan for his birthday night out tomorrow. I asked her if she and Tristan had booked the cruise yet that we had given him for Christmas.
"No girlfriend - with everything that happened right after that it's been impossible. It expires at year end too."
"Are you planning on using it?" I asked.
"Why? Do you want it?"
"I'll buy it from you, if you are willing to sell it?"
"Well Ty, it is not mine to sell but I will ask Tristan. I'm sure he would be glad to give it to you."
"No Gina," I said firmly, "I want to buy it with my own money."
"Whatever, girlfriend. I'll let you know when I see you tomorrow evening, okay?"
"Sounds good. Oh and Gina? This is a BFF secret."
"Got it," she said.
When I got home Preston was just getting up from her nap. I told Jean that I wanted to make dinner for Trey that night. She said she would entertain Preston in the playroom. I asked Jean if she would mind feeding Preston early this evening as I wanted a romantic dinner with Trey tonight.
Jean was delighted and said that there was no problem. I made Trey's favorite pot roast dinner; the same way that I had made it before for him. I baked a chocolate pie for him. It turned out perfect.
I showered and dressed in a tight red dress; I took extra care with my make-up and hair. I put on a pair of my 4" heels. I set the table in the dining room for both of us complete with candles that were ready to light as soon as Trey walked through the door.
Jean fed Tylar; the both of them retired to Jean's apartment upstairs for the bulk of the evening.
By 8:00 p.m. I was sitting in the dining room downing my third glass of wine. I hadn't heard from Trey. I hated calling him. It kind of defeated the purpose of surprising him with a romantic dinner made with my own hands especially for him. I gave it a few more minutes then poured another glass of wine. The bottle was officially empty now. I sat and sipped it slowly. I went ahead and cleared the table of the still clean dishes and silverware. I turned the oven off; taking the now dried out pot roast out and sticking it into the refrigerator.
I took my half-empty glass of wine upstairs to our suite. I was definitely feeling a buzz. I kicked my heels off just inside the bedroom door.
I climbed up on our bed and hit the remote turning the flat screen television on. I set the timer and then surfed the channels until I found a show that I recognized. I downed the rest of my wine and collapsed back against the bed pillows.
It was awhile later when I heard Trey come through the bedroom door. The television had shut off; the room was dark. He tripped over the shoes I had kicked off right inside the bedroom door.
"What the fuck?" he cursed as he flipped the overhead light on to see what he had tripped over.
"Jesus Christ, Tylar," he said, "Why the hell did you leave your shoes in front of the fucking door?"
(He was drunk! The clock read 11:49 p.m.)
"Where in the hell have you been, Trey?"
He looked over at me as I scrambled to sit up on the bed still dressed in my sexy red dress.
"Were we supposed to go out tonight?" he asked his eyes getting big. "Oh shit, honey, I forgot! Tristan's birthday dinner. Fuck!"
"That's tomorrow night Trey," I said.
"Well then, what I'd miss tonight?"
"Homemade pot roast, a chocolate pie and getting lucky," I snapped at him going into the bathroom to wash my face and get ready for bed.
"Baby, I'm sorry," he said, loosening his tie and following me into the bathroom. "Time just seemed to fly. The partners were celebrating a big win on a case. Well into the high six figures for the firm's share.
"Really?" I as
ked washing my face at the sink. Trey was unzipping his fly to pee.
"Whose case was it, Trey?"
"It was one of Pierce's cases. Well, Amber second-chaired, but you know we all celebrated the win."
"Congratulations," I said patting my skin dry and squeezing a dab of moisturizer into my palm. I applied it to my face rubbing it in circular motions.
I brushed my teeth and shrugged out of my dress and thigh high stockings.
Trey was behind me now, wrapping his arms around me. His hands were all over my breasts. He was kissing my neck; it sent shivers up through me.
"You like that, don't you baby?" he asked softly.
I elbowed him in the gut and left his embrace as his arms dropped from me.
"Ouch - what the fuck is your problem?"
"Trey, riddle me this? At what point was your phone out of service?"
"What?" he nearly screeched. "I never said that my phone was out of service."
"You're right. You didn't. That's why there is no excusing the fact that you didn't bother to call to tell me you would be late - very late in getting home. That doesn't work for me."
He started to jump back in my face; I was in no mood for it. For whatever reason my first session with Karla had stirred the river bottom making the water murky instead of clear with respect to the way Trey regarded me in his list of priorities.
I pointed my index finger in his face; I could tell I had a very scary look going on because it seemed as if Trey shrank back from me a bit.
"Don't" I snapped loudly at him. "I repeat, don't take me for granted any more like that!" I jabbed my finger in the air to make my point.
I could tell that he was taken aback by my demeanor.
(It's about damn time my inner voice sneered.)
I turned on my heel and went to the bedroom where I climbed into bed pulling the covers up under my chin. I rolled on my side to face the wall. Trey came to bed in a few minutes. I felt him get under the covers. He slept on his side, his back turned to me.
The following morning Preston came bounding into our room early. I could tell that Trey was hung over by how he snapped at her as I scooped her up.
She was yammering away about 'Mommie and Daddy.'
"Please, Tylar," he moaned, "For the love of God, take her downstairs. My head is pounding."
Jean was in the hallway wringing her hands.
"I'm so sorry, Tylar," she apologized. "She just took off from me after she used the potty wanting to see you and Mr. Sinclair. She got into your room before I could stop her."
"That's not a problem Jean," I replied, "Mr. Sinclair is a bit under the weather, but that is really his problem."
I saw Jean's mouth turn up in a slight smile but she said nothing. I lifted my baby girl up into my arms.
"What does Preston want for breakfast?" I asked as I carried her downstairs.
"Cancakes," she said clapping her hands together.
Preston loved pancakes. I had made them in the shape of Mickey Mouse's head and she adored them.
"Cancakes it is," I said hugging her close to me.
We were sitting at the breakfast table enjoying our pancakes when the landline in the kitchen rang. Jean was doing laundry so I jumped up to get it.
"Tylar?" the soft feminine voice said, "I'm sorry to call your home line but Trey isn't answering his Blackberry."
"He's still asleep Amber. Do you want me to wake him?"
"No, that's not necessary," she purred. "I know he was out late. When he gets up could you please ask him to check his car to see if I left my jacket in there?"
(What the fuck?)
"I sure will, Amber," I replied sweetly. "I'll have him call you either way. How is that?"
"Perfect," she replied. "Thank you."
Jean came back into the kitchen just then and I told her I needed to run out to the garage. She said she would finish feeding Preston her breakfast.
I went out to the garage and opened the passenger door to Trey's Mercedes. Sure enough, there was a short black leather jacket thrown across the back seat of the car. I picked it up taking it back into the house with me.
Jean was still in the kitchen with Preston. I placed the jacket on the back of a dining room chair in plain view for whenever Trey brought his sorry ass downstairs. I returned to the kitchen and finished having breakfast with my daughter.
It was after 11:00 a.m. when Trey finally came downstairs still looking under the weather. I was folding Preston's clothes at the kitchen table.
"Do you have any coffee made, babe?" he asked his eyes squinting in the sunlight.
"Nope."
"Would you mind making some for me, please?"
He looked and sounded pitiful. I gave him a glare as I turned the coffeemaker on and reached up in the cupboard for the coffee. Five minutes later, Trey was sipping his black coffee. He had popped a couple of Advil tablets with a large glass of water.
"Where's Preston?" he asked looking around.
"Jean took her to the grocery with her."
"So," I said, "Quite a party last night, huh?"
"Tylar look," he said, "I'm really sorry about my not calling you to let you know I was going to be late. I was totally not planning to have more than one celebratory drink with the partners but somehow drinks just kept being put down in front of me."
(Amber was buying no doubt!)
"Before I knew it I looked at the clock and it was 11:00 p.m. I thought you were probably asleep by that time so I felt it would be worse waking you when I was headed home anyway."
"Is that what you did Trey?"
"What do you mean?" he asked furrowing his brow.
"Did you come straight home from the bar?"
"Yes - what do you think I did?"
I walked into the dining room returning with Amber's black leather jacket hooked on my thumb. I tossed it onto the table in front of him.
"What's that?" he asked.
"You tell me, Trey."
"Well obviously it's a jacket, Tylar; should I know whose jacket it is?"
Trey seemed genuinely perplexed by my unasked question. He lifted the jacket from the table turning it around in his hand as if trying to place it. It appeared he didn't recognize it.
"I give up," he finally said, rubbing his forehead.
"Apparently, the jacket is Amber's," I snapped. "She called the house phone this morning when she couldn't reach you on your Blackberry. She asked me to ask you if she had left her jacket in your car. I went out to the garage and sure enough, there it was in the backseat. I'd like an explanation."
Trey was now giving me a 'deer in the headlight' look which I would have found irritating had I been accustomed to seeing him do that. This was the first time. Did he truly not remember how her jacket had found its way into the back seat of his car?
He raked his hands through his sleep-tousled hair and looked totally clueless. He raised his coffee mug to his lips taking a drink.
"Oh shit - I know what must've happened," he said. His face was now devoid of confusion.
I was eagerly awaiting his explanation.
He looked up at me where I was giving him my full attention.
"Pierce's wife dropped him at the office yesterday to take his car in for servicing. He asked me if he could use mine to drive over to the courthouse for the settlement conference. I didn't have anything scheduled in court so I let him use it. Amber was second chair on that case. I bet she rode over and back with him."
"I see," I said, rolling up a pair of Preston's socks.
Trey was studying me now.
"No, I don't think that you do see, Tylar. I think you don't believe what I am telling you is the truth."
"Why should I doubt you, Trey? You've never given me cause to be suspicious now, have you?"
Trey was angry now; I had stirred the pot and he was pissed.
He jumped up coming around to stand in front of me.
"Hey! You know damn well that I have never lied to you about anything! Ev
erything that has ever happened between Amber and me you saw with your own two eyes. That's where it started, and that's where it ended. Unfortunately, I have to live with the fact that you've fucked someone else!"
I turned to leave the room but his arm hauled me back against him. Our faces were inches apart. I could feel the rage inside of him; I could see it in his piercing blue eyes. His mouth came crushing down on mine. His hands framed my face as his lips sought mine hungrily and passionately.
I felt his hand lower to my jeans. He tugged at the button unclasping it. His fingers expertly lowered the zipper to allow his hand to reach down over my butt and lower the jeans down past my hips. I stepped out of them. His hooked his thumb inside the elastic of my thong and lowered it from me. I shivered as his fingers groped my sex and sent waves of pleasure through me. Our lips were still devouring one another with a passionate fury that was new.
Trey lifted me up and placed me on the kitchen table. I could feel Amber's cool leather jacket underneath my bare ass.
Trey unzipped the fly on his jeans. He hadn't bothered to put underwear on beneath them. His erect penis sprang free and my hand closed around it firmly; gently stroking the length of it as he moaned.
He parted my legs, tilting me back so that he was between them guiding his manhood into me in one deep thrust. I moaned in pleasure now, wrapping my legs tightly around his hips as he rocked back and forth inside of me. He kept a slow, steady rhythm to draw the pleasure out for each of us.
Our lips continued to devour one another with a passionate fury which was new to us. He rocked in and out of me methodically, perfectly filling my womanhood with himself. I loved the feel of Trey. I loved the feel of Amber's leather jacket under my ass as we made love.
The landline rang again in the kitchen.
(Who the fuck, now?)
Trey didn't miss a stroke as he reached behind him on the counter and picked up the cordless. His lips moved away from mine as he glanced to see who it was on the caller i.d.
"It's Amber," he said continuing his rhythm watching me.
"Answer it," I replied matching his thrusts.
I saw a hint of amusement flicker across Trey's face as he pushed the button for speaker so that I could hear the conversation.
"Hello," he said in his smooth and now totally sexy voice.