Conflicted

by Lisa Suzanne

  My bitterness only reminded me how drunk I actually was. Cole’s money had never been an issue for me before. He deserved to spend it however he wanted.

  Cole got out of the driver’s seat and tossed his keys to the valet before making his way around to my door to help me out.

  As much as I wanted to stand on my own two feet, especially to assert my independence after leaving my husband, I actually did need Cole to steady me. The tequila shots I’d taken so quickly that I’d lost count of them were catching up with me.

  He snaked his arm around my waist, and I tumbled into him.

  As much as I hated his guts, I loved how I felt there in his arms. I loved his scent. I loved his warmth. I loved his strength.

  I loved him.

  It just took leaving my husband, catching Cole with another woman, drinking too much tequila, and ultimately being rescued by Cole for me to realize it.

  The realization didn’t mix well with the tequila, unfortunately. I bent over a bush and promptly expelled the poisonous liquid from my system.

  I expected Cole to jump back in disgust, but instead he rubbed my back while I vomited. I felt better once I was done, and reality was hitting me hard.

  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and shot an embarrassed look at Cole.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  I nodded. I was fine, just totally drained.

  He held out his hand to me. “Then let’s get you up to bed.”

  As much as I wanted to protest, the need to use the restroom and then just lie down and go to sleep was far stronger. I took his big, warm hand in mine and allowed him to lead me to the elevator, up to the top floor—of course—and into his hotel room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  When I woke the next morning, I was epically confused.

  I didn’t immediately know where I was. I couldn’t remember how I got there. And I had very little recollection of the events that transpired the night before.

  Most of it was blocked by the intense, splitting throb that knifed through my brain and the nauseating ache in my belly. It only took me a second to realize I was in a hotel room. The drapes did their job blocking out daylight, but I could tell it was morning by the glow of light peeking around the edges. I turned in the bed and found Cole asleep beside me, and the previous night came back in a rush of traumatic and vile recollections.

  I’d caught him with another woman.

  Was it wrong of me to be supremely offended? Was it wrong of me to feel betrayed when I myself went home to another man every single night?

  It didn’t feel wrong. It did, however, feel like the bottom level of hell, especially mixed with a still drunken sensation and the beginnings of an epic hangover.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  Cole turned toward me. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  I glared at him. “Screw you.”

  “Oh, my darling, don’t you wish that’s how we could start the day? Unfortunately, I have a meeting to get to.”

  The fact that he was so drop-dead gorgeous and completely pulled together seconds after waking up did nothing but piss me right off. I hopped out of bed, ready to point fingers and throw hateful words at him.

  But the tequila stopped me cold.

  “Fuck!” I yelled.

  “I already told you, Ms. Cleary. Not now. I have to prepare for the Assistant of the Year awards ceremony.”

  “God, I hate you with a burning vengeance.”

  “That’s sweet of you to say. I hope you feel the same way after you use the restroom and find everything you need to get ready for the day thanks to the help of the hotel concierge. We’ll be leaving in an hour.” He tossed the covers off of himself and stood from the bed. He stretched lazily in nothing but his boxer briefs. I was torn between running toward him to drop kick him or to jump in his arms.

  I hated him. I loved him.

  I hated that I loved him.

  I didn’t do any of that, though. Instead, I said, “You think I’m going into work with you today?”

  “I think you don’t have much of a choice.”

  He was right. God DAMMIT, he was right.

  I was stuck. I needed to go to work to claim my award. I could quit after the check was deposited. There was no way I was going to work with the asshole standing in front of me. I couldn’t even look at him without wanting to throw up.

  Well, that may have been because of the tequila, but I was blaming him.

  Where the fuck did he get off sleeping with another woman?

  My anger took hold of me once again. I huffed out some non-response and turned on my heel toward the restroom.

  I rolled my eyes childishly as I looked around. He’d thought of everything. Literally not one single detail was left unattended, from a toothbrush and toothpaste to undergarments and a brand new dress with matching heels in my size.

  He’d even left a bottle of water and a small bottle of ibuprofen. I greedily sucked down a few pills to help stave off the pounding in my skull.

  I should’ve been appreciative. He was literally saving my ass on potentially the biggest day of my entire career, but instead of appreciation, I felt frustration and hatred.

  The words Luke—the random guy who had befriended me at the conference in New York—had said to me on the bench popped suddenly into my mind.

  His words replayed over and over as I undressed and got into the shower. They played while I squirted some of Cole’s shower gel onto a loofah. He’d left a bottle of girly shower gel, but my hand automatically reached for his instead.

  Luke’s words continued to play while I scrubbed shampoo through my hair and then rinsed. They played as I toweled off, and they played as I did my make-up, dried my hair, and put on the lovely black and white dress Cole had chosen for me. They played as I slipped my feet into the heels, and they played again when I fastened the earrings and the necklace that were on the counter—the jewelry that, incidentally, matched perfectly with the dress.

  Luke’s words became a song chanting through my head.

  “When you feel so much passion for someone, it’s easy for the lines between love and hate to blur.”

  I stared at myself in the mirror as I tried to piece together my emotions enough to make sense of them.

  I knew who I used to be. I used to be Lucy Cleary. Wife of John Cleary. Assistant to the CEO of Benson Industries. A good girl who had turned into a good woman who planned life carefully and worked hard.

  But now as I stared at my own reflection, I saw a passionate and confused woman who no longer knew what she wanted. A cheater. An adulterer. A person who acted on impulse and emotion instead of strategy and logic.

  I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. Maybe I never was that other person. Maybe deep down I was always this immoral person incapable of redemption.

  Or maybe the realizations I was having that morning meant that I was more capable of redemption than I thought.

  John gave up on me because I’d slept with another man. Was I a complete hypocrite to give up on Cole because he’d slept with another woman? Or was the bigger issue the fact that I didn’t know how many women Cole had on the side?

  Would I ever be able to trust him? And worse, would he ever be able to trust me?

  This is what came from affairs and cheating. John was hurt. I was hurt.

  But was Cole hurt?

  I didn’t have answers, but I did have to get my ass moving before he left without me. My car was still at the bar a few blocks from the office. I’d easily be able to pick it up and head home later that night.

  Home. I smiled sadly at the girl in the mirror. I couldn’t go home to the apartment I shared with my husband. He deserved some time to himself.

  I didn’t really have a home anymore. But I did have ten thousand dollars coming to me that would help me to find one.

  I’d earmarked the money for so many other things, but it seemed that now I didn’t have much choice in how I was going to spend it.

  I took
a deep breath, forced myself to smile at the girl in the mirror, and headed back out to Cole.

  “You’re stunning,” he said, his eyes scanning me appreciatively from where he sat on a small couch across the room with his laptop perched across his legs. Why did my heart feel like it was breaking in my chest the second my eyes landed on him sitting there in all his achingly handsome glory?

  “Thanks,” I mumbled, no longer sure how to handle him. My mind jumbled with relentless questions. Was I supposed to allow him to flirt with me? Was I supposed to flirt back?

  And why the hell did every nerve in my body seem to light up when his eyes met mine? Why did the ache between my legs intensify the second my ears picked up on the deep timber of his voice?

  “Did you find everything you needed in there?” he asked, trying to make conversation as he snapped his laptop closed and set it on the table in front of him.

  “I did. Thank you.” My words weren’t enough to truly thank him for the effort he’d put forth to make me comfortable that morning, but this situation tossed me headfirst into uncharted territory.

  “Your car is at the office and your keys are on your desk.”

  He really had actually thought of everything.

  “Thank you.”

  “Can we talk before we go?” he hedged, his eyes on me.

  I shrugged and looked out the window. “It’s your hotel room.”

  “Sit.” The command in his voice had me sitting on the chair across from him. “I’m sorry for what you saw last night.”

  He was sorry for what I saw? He wasn’t sorry for what he did?

  He continued before I had a chance to open my mouth to respond. “I turned to a friend who…let’s just say she makes herself available whenever I call. It was wrong of me and I apologize.”

  Well shit.

  I had to remember when I got to the office to mark down this as the first day in history that Cole Benson actually admitted to doing something wrong. I was about to interject a sarcastic comment along those lines when his next words stopped me cold in my tracks.

  “I’m going to say this, and I don’t want you to respond. I don’t want you to interrupt. I don’t want you to stop me. I want you to think about my words today, and at the end of the day, we can talk. But after I say this, we are going to leave separately, and my words are going to hang in the air between us. I’ve ordered a car for you so we don’t show up at work together. I have an out of office meeting this morning, and I’ll be in a little after ten. The awards ceremony is at eleven. Do you have any questions?”

  I shook my head, floored at the actual amount of thought he’d put into his speech and curious as to what the hell he was about to say.

  He stood and faced the window rather than me. He was quiet for a brief moment, and then he took a deep breath, turned toward me, and spoke the words that would linger in my mind for the rest of the day—if not much, much longer than that.

  “Lucy, I like you. A lot. I more than like you, if I’m being honest. I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what I’m feeling, but I know it’s powerful. And that doesn’t happen to me. I don’t get involved in committed relationships because—are you ready for this?—because the last time I was in one, she cheated on me. It broke my fucking heart and turned me into a cold bastard who decided that calling a random blonde whose name I wouldn’t remember in the morning was easier than having actual feelings for someone.”

  He stopped for a moment to pick up his laptop and set it in his bag. I wanted to interject, to respond, to say something—anything—but I couldn’t, because I promised I wouldn’t.

  I could feel my heart breaking all over again, and I was powerless to fix any of it.

  He picked up his bag and started for the door. He rested his fingers on the handle and turned back to me.

  “So if you think I betrayed you because I slept with Heidi last night, you’re wrong. I didn’t betray you, and I don’t owe you anything—including an explanation. But here it is: I was lashing out because I’m sick of your game. We can’t label this as exclusive because you are married. You’re stringing me along. You’ve always got an excuse why you can’t talk to your husband, and I fucking hate being the third wheel in your marriage. I know what it’s like to be in John’s shoes, and that’s why I stayed the hell away from you until I couldn’t anymore. There are two losers in this, Lucy, and neither one is you. So make your decision, think it through, choose wisely, man the fuck up, and be honest.”

  With that, he opened the door and walked out.

  It clicked shut behind him with a hollowness that resounded loudly in my heart.

  I stared at the door he’d disappeared through for a good three minutes, his words fresh in my mind. I finally drew in a breath, grabbed my purse, and headed down for the car Cole had called to take me to work.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Cole was usually already in his office by the time I got to work, so it was strange to get in before him. I sat at my desk and powered on my computer, hoping to be able to concentrate on work.

  I checked my phone while I waited for my computer. In the haze of my hangover, getting ready in record time, and being seriously put in my place by Cole, I hadn’t even thought to look at it to see if John had tried to call.

  He hadn’t. I wasn’t surprised.

  He was hurt, and I didn’t blame him. I’d been the one to hurt him, and it was only fair for me to leave it up to him to make contact. I supposed I’d need to stop home at some point in the short term, if nothing else to get some of my things. Cole had been nice enough to provide what I needed that morning, but I couldn’t rely on him.

  In the long term, I’d need to move out of the apartment I shared with John. We’d need to talk, to separate our things, to move forward with our divorce.

  But all of that could wait for a bit. Our marriage was over, but John deserved the time to process my confession from the night before.

  When my computer was finally on and I’d pulled up my email, I found one from John. It had been sent a little after two in the morning. My heart raced and tears heated my eyes the second I saw his name. I clicked it immediately and began to read.

  Lucy,

  I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to see you. I’m going to talk to apartment management today to see if we can break our lease. I’m looking into a divorce lawyer. You keep what’s yours. I don’t want any of it anyway. Come get what you want, but please don’t be at the apartment after 7:00 tonight.

  John

  I read it through three times, looking for hints into his mental state, but other than the fact that he clearly hated me, he was pretty straightforward.

  I swiped at a tear that had escaped from my eye and forced myself to focus on work, but it was largely futile. I gathered data for the MTC account, but I couldn’t move forward with any of my ideas until I met with Cole.

  I hated depending on the men in my life, and it seemed like a vicious cycle. First I depended on John to help me with my family, and then I depended on Cole to take care of me the night before and now with the project.

  I needed independence.

  It was that realization that made me think perhaps my very best option was to get as far away from Cole as I could.

  I needed time to move forward in order to heal. I needed to be on my own for a while. I needed to reconnect with Lucy—not the wife, not the cheater, not the assistant, not the confused woman. Just Lucy.

  It was time to just be on my own for a while.

  The thought of being away from Cole ripped my heart in half.

  It was a sad realization to have on the day I was going to be named Assistant of the Year, but I couldn’t see any other way. I knew what I had to do.

  I shook my head to clear it and then drafted the email I’d been thinking about all morning. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually send it, but I had it there for insurance.

  I chickened out of bringing my questions to Cole and chose to email him about the MTC acc
ount. It would be easier to handle it over email than to have to meet face-to-face, especially with everything hanging in the air. I couldn’t let our personal relationship affect my work. It wasn’t professional, and it certainly wasn’t how the Assistant of the Year should act.

  When Cole got in a little after ten, he kept his head down as he walked toward his office. I didn’t bother to look up from my computer anyway.

  I didn’t know what I was going to say to him at the end of the day, if anything. He’d told me to make a decision.

  I thought about that beautiful beach house he’d bought. We could share it. We could play house and make love and look toward our future together.

  There was so much about Cole I was sure I loved, and there were probably equal parts that I hated. I knew we had a crazy and intense passion I’d never felt for anyone before him.

  But if I was going to be in a relationship with someone, it couldn’t start with betrayal on top of betrayal. Passion wasn’t enough to sustain a relationship.

  We both needed to be free and clear to begin a relationship built on an honest and trustworthy foundation, and we didn’t have that—not if I was still married, and not if he was sleeping with Heidi.

  My office phone rang. “Hello?” I answered.

  “Send out a staff-wide memo from me that the Assistant of the Year will be named in thirty minutes in Training Room A. Mark it high importance.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I felt stupid drafting an invitation to the entire staff for an awards ceremony that honored me, but at least I wasn’t signing my name to it.

  When Cole headed to the training room a few minutes later to get ready for the ceremony, he kept his head down. I pretended not to look up at him, but I couldn’t help it. He was achingly beautiful in his navy suit. His hair was a mess, and I wanted to run my fingers through it to smooth it down. He hadn’t shaved, and I could still feel his sexy scruff scratching the sensitive skin by my mouth when he kissed me.