If Only For One Night

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  I sighed. Really, I wanted to remember all of last night, but it was difficult to shift my mind from that moment when she stood before me, the first time I ever saw her that way. Clearly, she had been sculpted by God, one of His master pieces of art.

  There was that moment, and then all that followed. It had taken everything not to make love to her right in that shower. But I didn’t want the night to be about me. I wanted to make love to her before I even entered her. But then, that moment, when our connection became complete….

  I moaned all over again remembering the way she gave all of herself to me. And then…we slept together. But I’d had to open my eyes, eventually. Knowing that I couldn’t stay till the morning’s light. When Angelique stirred in my arms, I knew she was awake too:

  My body wanted to fall…or should I say fall again. Because I’d already fallen for Angelique and now I wanted to fall into a deep sleep. But I knew I couldn’t. So, I didn’t allow myself to really sleep. I just drifted a bit, holding Angelique through the night.

  But I must have felt like I was home in that hotel room because when I opened my eyes, I glanced at my watch. 4:13. I couldn’t believe that my phone was still playing Luther, and I couldn’t believe it was already time for me to leave.

  I whispered in Angelique’s ear, just in case she was asleep, though our connection told me that she’d awakened, probably at the moment, when I had. “I need to go.”

  “I know.”

  After that, there was nothing. I didn’t move, Angelique didn’t move. Luther just sang. It had taken me exactly ninety-two minutes to have enough fortitude to pare myself away from her. She lay in bed, watching me as I jumped into my clothes. There was no way I was going to make this a long goodbye. Because if I did, I would never leave.

  So I moved quickly until all my clothes were in place. Then, I paused. And looked at this woman. Even though her hair was no longer in any kind of style and her make-up was gone, she had never looked more beautiful to me.

  Leaning over, I kissed her forehead because her lips would have been a trap. I said, “I’ll call you.”

  And she nodded.

  I turned and marched through the door, never looking back because that would have been another trap that would have kept me with Angelique forever….

  Opening my eyes, I shook away those memories because it was time to go home to my wife.

  Turning on the ignition, I made a quick U-turn and within seconds, I pulled my Mustang to a stop in our driveway. I stared at the front of our house that was illuminated a bit by the beginning rise of the sun.

  My house looked the same, but I wondered if now my home would be different.

  I was somber as I slid out of my car, then made my way to the front door. The house was as quiet as it was dark, save for that rising sun seeping its light through the blinds.

  Moving toward the staircase, my plan was to check on my children, then get a couple of hours of sleep on the sofa, but a voice stopped me cold.

  “Glad you decided to come home.”

  I turned. I hadn’t even seen her sitting in the living room. It took a moment for my feet to move, but I walked toward her, keeping my steps as natural as I could.

  “Hey, babe.” I leaned toward her, but she turned her lips away from me.

  “It’s almost seven in the morning and you think it’s acceptable to come in at this time?”

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. I pecked her forehead anyway before I stood up straight. “I fell asleep over at Lamar’s.”

  “And you couldn’t call me?”

  “Babe, if I was asleep, how could I call you?” I said.

  Her eyes roamed over my tuxedo. “And so, you went to hang out at Lamar’s dressed like that?”

  “I went over to Lamar’s after I left an awards dinner that my company asked me to attend — last minute. They’d bought a couple of seats, but it turned out that the partners couldn’t go. And since I’m trying to make partner….”

  She squinted as if she were trying to see if my words were true.

  I continued my lie, “It was a boring, rubber-chicken night, so I called Lamar when I finished.” I shrugged. “I would have come home, but you were sleep when I got the call and when I left. So….”

  I stood there as if I were telling the truth. And I hated every moment of this.

  “I’m trying to understand how you think this is acceptable. To come home like this.”

  I hated this interrogation, but I was so grateful that Monica wasn’t screaming. It was like…this was a regular conversation.

  “It’s not acceptable, Monica and I apologize. I should have called you when I first got over there.” I stepped to her, then, knelt in front of her knowing that I needed to put some kind of seal on this deal. I took both of her hands into mine before I kissed them. “Look, babe. I’m really sorry and you have every right to be mad. Because I would be pissed if you had done that. So, I get it. I can’t apologize enough and I’ll make sure it never happens again.”

  Concern was her only emotion when she spoke, “When I woke up, I thought you were on the sofa. So, I came downstairs to talk. But when you weren’t here, I called Lamar.”

  I held my breath for a moment.

  She said, “But it just rang and rang.”

  He never answered his house phone, the number that Monica had. And for a moment, I wondered now, if I’d given her that number, all those years ago, on purpose.

  I said, “Because Lamar was sleep next to me.”

  “Next to you?”

  “You know what I mean. He was on one sofa and I was on the other.”

  She shifted on the couch, then shifted her eyes as if looking at me from another angle would expose my lies.

  “You know what?” I asked, trying to get her glare off of me. “Why don’t you go get dressed and I’ll take you out for breakfast.” Everything inside of me hoped that she gave her usual, ‘I’m tired’ response because I was exhausted. And I was grateful when my wife did not disappoint.

  “I don’t feel like going to get anything to eat. I’ve been up all night worrying. Now, I need to get some sleep.”

  “That’s understandable,” I said. “You go on back to bed, I’ll be in the office. I want to send an email about the banquet last night and then, I’ll take the kids to breakfast when they get up.”

  She was already climbing the stairs and she looked over her shoulder. “Well, bring me something back.”

  I watched her as she made her way to the top, then sulked down the hallway to our bedroom.

  I staggered into the family room and collapsed onto the sofa. My wife was never awake this early. And I’d never come sneaking into our home at this time. Yet, she was awake, and I’d sneaked in.

  What was up with that?

  And then, I thought — maybe God was trying to tell me something.

  CHAPTER 21

  Angelique

  When I pressed the garage opener, I paused for a moment before I edged my car inside next to Preston’s. I was hoping that my husband would’ve been gone somewhere — playing golf, back to the office, a trip to the moon…I didn’t care. It didn’t matter as long as he wasn’t home.

  I chuckled, but it was filled with bitterness. All of this time I’d wanted my husband to be home and now that he was, I needed him to be gone. Because I needed some time. I needed to figure out me and Blu.

  I should have stayed at the hotel longer, asked for a later checkout — anything not to come home. But the thing was, once Blu left, the room lost all of its air and all of its light. I didn’t want to be there without him. I didn’t want to be anywhere without him.

  So I’d gotten up the moment Blu left. And I stepped into the shower, closed my eyes and remembered last night.

  As the water ran over me, I relived the moments and wondered how I hadn’t known — how did I not know that I’d been missing so much? Preston was a good lover, or so I thought, though it was hard to remember.

  But what Blu had done, wha
t we had done. Our bodies were meant to be together. Our souls were meant to mate.

  And then, it dawned on me...we hadn't used protection. What had unprotected sex in 2017? My desire for Blu had made me lose my good sense. Next time, I'd be prepared.

  Next time.

  I couldn't believe that I was thinking about a next time.

  I sat in my car for a little while, trying to push aside all thoughts of this time and the next time. Preston had heard the garage door open — it wasn’t silent. He knew I was home. Surely, he was inside planning what he would say to me. And that was why I was sitting in the garage because I needed to know what I would say to him.

  When he said that he was sorry, would I tell him about Blu? When he asked me how did the event go, would I tell him about Blu? When he wanted to know what I did afterward, would I tell him about Blu?

  Would I tell him about Blu?

  Of course, I would not.

  He’s my soulmate.

  Could it be? Could this be my chance for a lifetime of happiness?

  He’s married.

  I sighed. No matter what happened from here, that would always be the thing that would bind me. Blu belonged to another woman. So could I ever be happy if I were the cause of that destruction, even with what I’d already done?

  I wish you were mine.

  Remembering his words made me want to shift my car into reverse and drive around the entire Northside until I found Blu’s home. I wanted to go claim him, tell him that I wished that he were mine, too.

  But I did the sensible thing, the realistic thing. I pushed open the SUV door, jumped out, ready to face my husband. Glancing at my suitcase in the backseat, I decided to just leave it there for now, not even having the energy to carry it inside. I hesitated before I pushed open the door from the garage to our home and when I stepped inside and through the mud room, the first thing I noticed was the blue box. On the kitchen table. Another gift.

  Stepping over to the table, I lifted the box and twisted it from side to side. Whatever was inside this box wasn’t cheap and I found the greater Preston thought the violation, the better the gift. He knew he messed up, only this time, he had no idea how much. He had no idea that last night a man had taken more than what was between my legs.

  I moved through the walkway, past the dining room and toward the living room. I wasn’t looking for my husband; it would have pleased me if I didn’t have to see him, at least not today.

  But I found him in the living room, standing in front of the bay window. Two glasses, of what looked like mimosas, in his hand.

  We stood there for a moment, staring at each other. I was a bit surprised that his expression matched mine. His face was stiff, absent of a smile. I’d expected him to personify joy right now. To try and make me believe that I didn’t feel the hurt inside my heart.

  I took the first step. I moved toward him and then noticed what he was wearing: black pants, though just his T-shirt. As if he’d started undressing and then, stopped. “Hello,” he said and held out one of the glasses for me.

  “Hi,” was my only response. Well, it was my only verbal response. I took the glass from him and without taking a single sip, placed it on the table next to Preston.

  His glance followed my movements and then, his eyes found mine again. He said, “So, I guess you’re really upset with me.”

  I shrugged, turning away from him. What I wanted to do was just go up to our bedroom, crawl into the bed, close my eyes, and dream. But first, I needed to tell Preston what he’d done to me, to us. Maybe not about Blu, but I wanted my husband to know how he’d made me feel…and the only reason I wasn’t still crying in bed was because of Blu. I was going to leave that part out, but everything else, he needed to know. But when I whipped around to face him, I was so weary that all I said was, “I’m not upset.”

  “Oh, yeah.” He nodded. “You are.” He stated that as if it were a fact, as if he were in my head. “You’re mad about me not making it last night and Angelique, I had a really good reason.”

  “You always do.”

  “It was work, and you know it. It was unplanned and you know that, too. And if there was any way for me to be there, Angelique, you know I would have been.”

  I raised my hands, feeling so helpless because his words never changed. “Like I said, Preston, you always have a reason. You always have an excuse as to why I come in second, third, fourth place, why everything else in your life comes before me.”

  My plan had been to stand here, to give him more than just a piece of my mind; I wanted to give him my whole brain. But we’d had so many of these discussions. The same words, the same emotions. Nothing was ever going to change. And not only that, Blu had shown me….

  He’s my soulmate.

  I shook my head. This wasn’t about Blu. This was about Preston and me. But Preston and me…I was so done, at least talking about this right now. I needed time and space. Time to figure this out, space for my emotions to stop shooting around inside of me. I felt such love, I felt such hate. For two men. I needed to get away.

  I spun around ready to stomp out of the room.

  Until.

  “Is that why you’ve put another man before me, Angelique? Is that why you had another man in your bed last night?”

  There comes a time in every life when one must die.

  I had no idea why that was my first thought. My second one was what would happen if I clicked my heels three times. And my third thought was about something that Sheryl always told me:

  “Men-Admit-Nothing.”

  Clearly, I wasn’t a man. So, I turned around and faced my husband.

  It was amazing what had happened in the five, six, or seven seconds that had passed since Preston had flung those words into our atmosphere. It was amazing how one’s eyes could go from normal to bloodshot. That was what happened to Preston. Or maybe his eyes had been that way when I walked into the room and I hadn’t noticed because there was such anger in mine.

  But now his red eyes glared at me filled with more hurt than fire. Slowly, he placed his glass on the table and I followed his movements. I followed every gesture, every blink because I had no idea how to react in a situation such as this. I had no idea what he would do, what I should do.

  He stood straight, said, “I was so sorry when I couldn’t get there for you, Angelique. I could hardly sit through my meeting. But I did because it was about business. And this was an important contract. Then, right after it was over, I rushed to the hotel. You know why I was able to do that, Angelique? Because I was already wearing my tuxedo.” He glanced down at his pants.

  That was when I noticed — his pants to one of his tuxedos.

  “I went to a business meeting wearing a tuxedo so that I could get straight to you.” Now, he shook his head. “I prayed that I would get there in time for at least the end of the program. But even if I missed that, I wanted to spend the night with you.” He paused. “Because I wanted to be there, as soon as we ended, I called you. I called and called your cell.”

  My cell. Turned off. Because I didn’t want to hear another excuse from him.

  “I wanted you to know that I was going to be there.”

  The lump in my throat expanded with shock and fear…and guilt. Because his hurt was so apparent.

  “Why, Angelique?”

  There were so many tears in his voice that my knees buckled, but I broke my fall; I grasped the back of the chair, thankful that our Feng shui designer had placed it right by the door for a time such as this. Holding onto the back of the chair, I edged around until I lowered, first my butt, then my head, my eyes.

  “Why, Angelique?”

  The fact that he repeated let me know his question wasn’t rhetorical and I wanted to respond, truly, I did. But when nothing came out of me, Preston filled in the why for me. He said, “Were you just that unhappy with me?”

  He spoke like he was incredulous. Like the idea that I was unhappy couldn’t possibly make any sense.

  Now
I raised my eyes. “First, it didn’t happen because you didn’t come to the gala.”

  Now, he was the one who stumbled. His steps were short, almost drunken as he moved toward me, then he flopped onto the sofa. Sitting across from me, he rested his arms on his legs and leaned forward, though he kept his eyes away from me. His head bobbed, though I couldn’t tell if he were nodding. But then….he looked up and his red-rimmed eyes were filled with a mist that made me gasp inside.

  “I didn’t know,” he whispered. “I didn’t know for sure.”

  He didn’t know? What was he talking about?

  “I saw you walk into the hotel last night. I watched you from the bar, walk in and then away from me with him. And it left me — kinda frozen because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.”

  Oh. My. God.

  “But I told myself that he was coming right back down because I watched him, from the window in the bar…I watched him signal to the valet that he would be right back. But I was frozen because of the way he looked at you.” He paused and I watched his Adam’s apple rise. “The way you looked at him.”

  Preston. Saw. Me.

  “I should have called out. I should have run after you. And if I had to do it again, I would…I think. But I was just frozen from such shock.” He paused. “But if I had stood up, then none of this would have happened.” Now, he looked up. “Would it?”

  I swallowed and then, tried to breathe because I needed the air to speak. But I could only release two syllables, “Preston.”

  “Or has this been going on….”

  “No,” I stopped him with my words and with the way I shook my head. “No, it…” I squeezed my eyes shut. “No. Never before. Ever.”

  He nodded just a little and he blew out a long breath. “Still, I should have called out because if I had….”

  “Preston.”

  “I called your room, you know.”

  I closed my eyes. He called? I never heard the phone. And then, I remembered…the shower. And the angels’ bells ringing….

  “I called your room, then waited. Called your room, then demanded that the front desk give me a key. But you didn’t have my name on the room and apparently, they give keys to no one — not even husbands.” Red-rimmed, mist-filled eyes stared at me. “I guess they do that for protection.” He took a breath. “Are you going to answer me? Are you going to tell me why?”