I Said Yes
Page 6
“Good morning, ladies!” A deep voice with a heavy Spanish accent carried across the room. I looked away from the mirror toward the doorway as a man entered.
No, man wasn’t a good enough word. God was more like it. He was dressed in sweatpants and a tight T-shirt, the outline of his abs perfectly visible through the cotton. His complexion was enchantingly warm, as though he’d just come from a sunny vacation, and his dark, curly, and what looked to be chin-length hair was pulled back in a bun. I sat up straighter as he walked to the front of the class.
“I’m Luis. I will be your trainer for this morning.” He pointed around the room with a twinkle in his eye. “I see a few familiar faces. I’m glad to see I haven’t run you off yet, no?” He laughed and his laugh sparked a few other laughs throughout the room, all too cheery for my taste. It didn’t take long for me to notice the effect Luis had on the women in my class. They hung on his every word, giggling senselessly at his jokes, and poking their butts out a bit more when he came behind them. It was infuriating how difficult it was for me to focus on the class with Luis there. He drifted past me a few times, his rich, woodsy-yet-floral scent surrounding me and making my brain foggy.
At the end of the class, my body burned with a familiarity that I’d missed. As everyone rolled up their mats, chugging water and heading from the room, I stayed behind, not yet ready to let the feeling go. My hair stuck to my forehead, slick with sweat, and I brushed it away, pulling out the messy ponytail and attempting to redo it.
“Your first class?” Luis asked from behind me. I jumped, spinning around to face him. I’d thought I was alone in the room.
“I, um,” I was incredibly aware of the giant armpit stains I must be wielding, but I couldn’t lower my arms as I wrapped the hair tie around my hair one last time, “sorry. No, not my first class. My first class here, though.” I felt more heat rush to my cheeks, but I didn’t see how that was possible. “Have I lost my touch?”
He smirked. “Not at all, señorita. In fact, I was shocked to learn that you were a new student. You don’t need to be in a beginner class. You could’ve been up there with me teaching.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” I said, though in truth, I had taught a few classes in college to pick up extra money. That seemed like a lifetime ago. I was nowhere near what I used to be.
“Will we see you again?”
“I think so,” I told him. “I signed up for the full month. I’ll probably switch to a more advanced class after that, once I get back in the swing of things.”
“I’ll be sorry to see you go,” he said, his voice lower than before. “I have a hot yoga class in the afternoons, if you’re looking for something a bit more advanced…eventually.”
I nodded. “Thanks…I may check it out.”
He winked, his lips parting for just a moment as he appeared to think. “I’d like that a lot.” With that, he took a drink of water from the bottle in his hand and turned around. “Can I walk you out?”
I should’ve said no. I should’ve never gone back to that studio, to that class. I should’ve walked away, but I didn’t. Instead, I heard myself saying, “Yes.”
Chapter Fifteen
Her
It wasn’t planned. I never went back to Luis’ class with the intention of starting an affair.
At least, that’s what I tell myself. I don’t think it was a conscious plan. But I was so lonely, I guess the thought must’ve been there.
Either way, when the class was over the next day, he approached me again. This time, I’d purposefully waited around to be the last one to leave, in hopes that he would. Would he notice the fact that I’d gotten my hair done the day before? Mark hadn’t. Or at least hadn’t mentioned it. Would he notice the waterproof mascara I’d carefully applied? It was just enough so you couldn’t tell whether I was wearing any or I just had really great lashes. I’d purchased new clothes that fit tighter on the thin hips my marriage had given me. When I’d done it, none of it was to impress Luis. I just wanted to feel better, prettier. I just wanted to feel something.
“I’m glad to see you back,” he said, running a quick hand over my shoulder.
“I’m glad you’re glad.”
He smiled. “What’d you think of the class? Think you’re ready to try something a little more advanced?”
“I think I like this one, for now,” I said with a small smile. “But thanks.”
“My pleasure.” Something about the way the words rolled off his tongue had my stomach fluttering. “Hey, do you want to grab a coffee or something? I know a great little place across the street.”
“Oh, um,” I paused, probably for too long, and placed a hand on my stomach. His eyes followed them, looking for a ring I presumed. I hadn’t worn one, of course. It was my chance to correct him, to set the record straight. I should’ve said, “Sorry, I’m married.” I should’ve said no. Instead, I nodded, my voice caught in my throat. “Okay.” His smile warmed me in places Mark had left cold for too long. “I’d like that.” It was just coffee. I tried to reason with myself from the beginning that I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I was allowed to have coffee.
But, try as I might to deny it, I knew what was going to happen. I knew based on the look in his eyes and the way his hand fell to my lower back as he ushered me out of the room.
I should’ve stopped it.
I should’ve said no.
I should’ve run away.
I didn’t.
Chapter Sixteen
Her
“Mi tesoro,” he whispered in my ear, his hand cupping the back of my head as our bodies collided together. His breath was hot on my neck, our skin slick with sweat under his covers. He pulsed inside me once, twice, then exploded with a heavy groan, his body going rigid with release.
I was exhausted from our lovemaking, and yes, as pretentious as the word sounds, it was the best word to describe it. Luis was a patient lover, a man who made sure I finished first always, but he never seemed to tire of the process. He often told me he could’ve spent all day and night in bed with me, and believe me, there were days I wanted to do just that. But I couldn’t, and I couldn’t bring myself to tell him why.
He kissed my nose, sliding off of me and flopping onto the pillow beside my head.
“What does that mean?” I asked. I was learning so many new phrases from Luis. My knowledge of the Spanish language was limited to two courses in college, and except for ‘door’ and ‘cat,’ I was basically useless.
He rested his arms under his head, smiling up at the ceiling confidently. “Mi tesoro,” he repeated, drawing out the words on his lips. “My treasure.”
My hands went to my lips instinctively, but he stopped them. He was learning my tells. “Don’t do that. You are a treasure, Hannah. Don’t doubt your worth.”
I moved my hand to his chest instead, smiling in spite of myself. “You’re incredible, you know that?”
He looked down at me. “Incredibly lucky.”
“Say something else to me,” I said, closing my eyes as guilt rose up in my throat in the form of bile.
“What would you like me to say?” he asked, running a finger across my bare arm and causing me to shiver.
“Anything.” I wanted him to say that I was a horrible person. That I didn’t deserve any of the kindness he was showing me. That I was selfish for stringing him along and keeping my secret from him.
He lowered himself so he was in my ear again, his stubble tickling my skin as he pulled me against him and sucked in a breath. “Sólo puedo pensar en ti.”
My body reacted to his words in ways no one had ever affected me before. I felt myself roll with excitement as his hand gripped my hips. I opened my eyes, waiting for him to translate.
“It means I can only think of you,” he said, resting his forehead on mine. “And it’s the truth. I know we’ve only been seeing each other a few weeks, but you’re all I can think about, Hannah.” He chuckled. “I think I’m going a bit crazy for you.”
&n
“You shouldn’t…” I sucked in a breath. “You shouldn’t feel that way about me.”
“Why do you say that, mi tesoro?”
I pressed my lips together. The truth was on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it. I couldn’t bring myself to admit who I was or how horrible I’d let myself become. Instead, I did the worst thing I could possibly do in that moment. I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his and letting my secret become buried in the moment. It was selfish, but effective. Within moments, every care had faded and all I could think about was Luis. Luis’ lips. Luis’ hands. The way he smelled. The way he tasted. Luis. Luis. Luis.
Chapter Seventeen
Her
When I arrived home that evening, Mark wasn’t there. I’d rushed there from Luis’ in an attempt to beat him home, so while I was relieved, it was surprising not to find his car in the drive. I hurried inside, placing my purse on the bench beside the door and pulling open the freezer. I needed to get dinner started, but I also needed to get in the shower.
I grabbed a frozen lasagna, not even leaving enough time for the oven to fully preheat before popping it in and rushing down the hall. The shower scalded my skin as I stepped into the stream of water, but I didn’t have time to care.
I scrubbed my skin until it felt raw, as I did every time I came home from Luis’, the pain only a piece of what I felt I deserved. I couldn’t explain what made me keep going back to him, except that while I felt numb to almost everything in my life, Luis made me feel…something. Guilt, passion, anger, love…whatever it was, he was the first person who’d made me feel human in so long, and I couldn’t stomach the thought of letting that go.
I finished my shower in record time and threw one towel around my hair and another around myself before shuffling down the hall toward the bedroom. I lifted the blind slightly to stare out into the drive. To my surprise, Mark’s car still wasn’t home. It was just past seven, and it wasn’t like him not to call and at least warn me he was going to be late.
I stared out the window for a minute longer before pulling my pajamas on and running a brush through my hair. When I arrived in the kitchen, I checked the lasagna, which was only beginning to bubble slightly, and then pulled my phone from my purse near the door. There were no missed calls.
I went to my recent calls and clicked his name, watching the screen change as it began to dial. On the third ring, the call was sent to voicemail.
My heart began to pound as I stared at my phone in confusion. What on earth could be happening? I sent him a text.
Everything okay?
I watched for the bubbles to pop up on my screen, but they never came. Not sure whether to be angry or petrified, I paced the floor, staring at my phone with desperation.
Call me back. Call me back. Call me back. The mantra played over and over in my head, and every time I heard a car turn down our road, I practically leapt toward the window. Every horrible scenario played in my head: active shooter at work, affair, car accident, and mugging, to name a few. Maybe he’d lost his phone. Maybe he’d been kidnapped and held for ransom. Maybe he’d been murdered. Maybe he’d…found out about my affair. Maybe he was leaving me.
No. I’d been careful. There was no way he could’ve found out about Luis. I only went to his house when Mark was working, and I hadn’t even given him my phone number or last name. We only saw each other in class—class.
Shoot. I’d given the studio my last name when I signed up. Was it possible they’d shared that with the instructor? Surely not. Wouldn’t that be a violation of my privacy? I chewed my lip as I planned out my excuses. I would beg for Mark’s forgiveness. Plead temporary insanity if I had to.
I made up my mind right then. If Mark came home to me, I’d never see Luis again.
At half past eleven, Mark still wasn’t home and he hadn’t answered my texts or phone calls, which were becoming more frequent by the hour. The lasagna was cooling, untouched, on the stovetop, and my salad beginning to wilt, but I couldn’t bring myself to eat it without him.
I’d had enough. My body was filled with pure panic as I realized he may truly not be coming home. As a last resort, I walked out the front door and hurried toward my car, keys in hand. I didn’t know where to look for him. If he wasn’t at work, I had no idea where he might be.
I drove the streets between our house and his office quickly, checking my phone in a glance every few seconds. I pulled up in front of his office building twenty minutes later and stared into the high-rise. The windows of the building gave a clear view into the quiet, empty offices. Upstairs, I could see a few cleaners vacuuming and washing windows, but I didn’t see Mark. I pulled into his parking garage and stopped at the gate. Without second guessing myself about him seeing the charge and wondering why I’d come there, I pulled out the credit card in my wallet and stuck it into the card reader, waiting a few moments as it processed.
The screen changed, and I took my foot off the brake but placed it back on instantly.
CARD DECLINED, the screen read. I swiped it again, with the same result.
“Excuse me,” I said loudly, rapping my knuckles on the glass of the cage where the attendant sat. “Excuse me!”
The man, a hefty, older black man with a large mole on his cheek turned to me. “Can I help you?”
“I think there’s something wrong with your card reader. It’s saying my card is declined. I just need to get in here.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Our garage is full of full-timers. You could try the one down the block,” he said, preparing to shut the window.
“I don’t need to park, I just need to see if my husband’s car is here.”
He opened the window again and furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”
“My husband, Mark Oliver. He works in the building across the street and parks here every day. I…I can’t get ahold of him. He should be home by now, and I’m just, I need to find him. Please. I’m getting worried. It’s not like him to be late.”
The man’s face filled with pity as he shook his head. “I’m sorry, ma’am, I wish I could help you. I really do, but I could get fired if I told you anything about our patrons. It’s against policy.”
“Can’t you just break the rules this once?” I begged, feeling my voice choke up with hopelessness. “Please, I’m begging you. I just want to know that he’s safe.”
He looked around. “I…I can’t.” He huffed out a long, drawn out breath. “But, since you’re already in here, I have to let the gate up for you so you can pull in and then back out to exit.” He paused. “Now, if you were to pull through the parking garage and look for your husband’s car…I’m not sure what I could do to stop you.” His sly shrug gave me the first shred of hope I’d had in hours. “But…you make it quick, you hear? If you’re gone more than ten minutes, I’ll have to call the cops.”
“I understand,” I said. “Thank you! Thank you so much.” As the gate lifted, I wiped my tears and sped in, zooming through the mostly empty garage in search of his car. When I reached the top, any sense of hope I’d momentarily felt was gone. There were a few cars in the garage, but no black Lexus. Mark wasn’t there, so where was he?
I drove back down and out of the garage with a thankful but distracted wave to the attendant. Besides work, Mark’s favorite place to be was home, so I had no idea where to look for him next. He wasn’t one to go to the gym, his morning runs negated that need, so where else could he be?
A few moments later, I pulled into the parking lot of the bar where we’d first met. It was a long shot. To my knowledge, he hadn’t been back there since he’d quit after graduation, but it was a last ditch attempt to find him, and it was the only place I could think of.
I walked into the darkness of the bar, the familiar smell hitting me at once. An odd mix of relief and horror filled me as I looked around, expecting to see him, only to find the place devoid of any faces I knew.
“You look lost. Can I help you?” A young waiter approached me cautiously, obviously trying to suss out if I was there to cause trouble.
I blinked myself from my trance and looked toward him. “S-sorry. I’m just…looking for my husband.”
Pity filled his face as he followed my glance around the room. He thought he knew my story, but he had no idea. “Is he a regular here?”
“I don’t…I don’t think so. I, um, he used to work here. I thought maybe he’d…I don’t know. I thought—hoped—I’d find him here.”
The man furrowed his brow. “Used to work here? You don’t mean Mark, do you?”
My eyes lit up and a smile grew wide on my cheeks. “Yes, Mark. Mark Oliver. Do you know him?”
He nodded. “Yeah, of course. We see Mark all the time. He’s a good guy. We really miss him around here.” He paused. “Oh wow, you’re his wife. He wasn’t lying about that. We were all starting to think he’d made you up.” He smiled, his eyes making me uncomfortable as they trailed me up and down. “But no, I haven’t seen him around here tonight. I just clocked in a few hours ago, though. Let me check with Vic.” He hurried toward the bar, and I followed close behind him. “Vic, hey, this woman here is looking for Mark.”
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