by Bebe Wilde
I rocked against him and together, we came, grabbing onto each other and holding tight. It was that quick. We were that turned on, that in sync. Once it was over, he fell off me and we stared up at the ceiling. We didn’t speak for the longest time. But then after a while he began.
“I care for you more than I’ve ever cared for another woman, Teagan,” he said softly. “But we both know it would never work.”
I thought about that. He was right. It wouldn’t work, mainly because he was jealous and he was jealous of the relationship I had with Kier. He’d never get over it. But at least he had finally given me something. He had told me he cared about me, but somehow, it wasn’t enough for me to give Kier up for good. I gave him one last kiss and told him goodbye.
He grabbed my arm before I left and said, “Are you still marrying Kier?”
I stared at him. It was true that I had agreed to marry Kier again and I’d done it because he was the only man I trusted enough to take this step. I had to move on with my life. I had to go forward. If I waited any longer, I could potentially fuck up the rest of my life. I wasn’t in my twenties anymore with time to burn. I was in my thirties and if I was going to get to it, I had to get to it sooner rather than later. With Roman, I didn’t know what I would get. I didn’t know what he wanted. I wanted to believe we could make it work but I didn’t think we could.
“I don’t know,” I told him truthfully. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Roman.”
He nodded. “Once you know, let me know.”
I stared into his eyes. “I will.”
“You have to finish that in one way or another,” he said. “I am not an extra. How do you say…? Second fiddle? I won’t be a second fiddle.”
I wondered briefly if he had some sort of professional jealously over Kier, who was a big movie star. Yeah, that was it. I felt it in my gut. Maybe he felt that way because Kier was loved by millions. Roman, while well regarded and loved and critically acclaimed, never reached the heights that Kier had. But not many had. Even so, maybe that was his grudge. Well, I was sick of it because it put me squarely in the middle of those two.
But I knew that was the thing that was keeping us apart, his belief that he would lose to Kier. It was too much, though, too much to sort through. Something in me longed to tell him to just stop being afraid to love me, the way I had stopped being afraid to love him, if only for an instant, if only for the minute it took to tell him that. He did care for me, he’d told me as much. But it wasn’t enough. However, I knew it was me with the problem and not him. And that’s why he was letting me go. He didn’t want to make me love him; he didn’t want to make me choose. He wanted me to do it on my own. And my choice was with Kier, it was that simple. He was all I had, all I knew. The unfamiliar was too damned scary. I wasn’t a spontaneous person who would elope with someone just because she had a night of hot sex with them. I just wasn’t that way. I had to have time to acclimate and Roman and I just hadn’t taken that time.
He wasn’t perfect. He was human and I knew he didn’t trust me enough to let me into his heart. That was rich, considering the way I’d been treated by the men I’d loved in my life. Everything we’d been though together was a way for him to punish me, to let me know he wasn’t giving it up that easily. He didn’t punish through our games; no those were mostly for fun. He punished by holding back, by withdrawing his love. That’s how he hurt the ones he thought would hurt him. Couldn’t he see all I wanted was validation, a word or rather three little words, I love you… Or even four, I love you, too. That’s all it would take for me. I was easy that way. Tell me you love and I will love you back. But I couldn’t and he couldn’t. That’s why we were where we were: Stuck at an impasse, neither of us willing to trust enough to let go and believe that we had what it took to make it work.
I got up and looked around, wondering what to do next. But I knew the only thing I could do, the right thing to do, was to simply leave. As I started to stand, Roman grabbed my hand and pulled me to him. He didn’t say a word, he just held me close. I could feel his heart beating and could sense his longing. For that, I felt bad. Though he rarely did, Roman could be romantic and he was being that way now. However, I had to accept the fact that, while our relationship was wild and intense, it was purely on a sexual level.
I pulled away. “Goodbye, Roman.”
“Au revoir, Teagan.”
The Final Showing
The final showing of Roman’s house was going well. They were a young good looking married couple and dressed to the nines in casual, expensive clothing. Well, she was at least. He was dressed in a vintage Ramones t-shirt, jeans and Chuck Taylors. They’d pulled up in an old, beat-up Jeep and were so cool it made me feel just a little older than I should have actually felt.
They were really friendly and a really cute couple. He had formed a software company, one that developed software for major corporations. It was very heady and a little out of my realm of comprehension, but I was impressed as hell. She was a reporter turned style blogger and they’d met at a fundraiser and later married. Their names were Alicia and Martin.
“Teagan Finney,” I said and shook their hands “Let me show you around the place.”
I showed them around the house, pointing out the architectural details as well as giving them the history of the house.
“Wow,” Alicia said in the master closet. “I could buy more stuff!”
Martin rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Like you need it.”
I chuckled at them and said, “Let’s take a look at the living room again.”
We went in and I told them some more details about the couch, how it was all custom built and while the owner wanted to maintain the original design, he had added a modern, more comfortable twist to it.
“The leather is imported from Italy,” I said. “And was dyed this specific color, as well as going through a proprietary process to give it this subtle, soft touch. It’s like it’s been here for years, but it hasn’t.”
“It’s too cool,” she said and sat down on the couch and smiled, patting the seat next to her. Her husband went over and sat down next to her, then leaned back and nodded. I tried to hide my smile but it was hard. Whenever someone sits down in a house, it’s almost a sure indicator that they love the property and will soon make an offer. I hoped this was true in this case as well.
“Want to take another look at the pool?” I asked.
He shook his head, then glanced at his wife, who gave him a nod. “We love this house. We were here a few years ago, in fact, and drove by, when it looked abandoned.”
I nodded.
“And, well, we were smitten then,” he said. “We’re both from the Los Angeles area, that’s where our families live.”
“But we didn’t make a move because it was so wrecked and we don’t know anything about renovation or restoration,” Alicia said. “Since then, we’ve kicked ourselves as we always imagined raising a family in a super cool space like this.”
“Really?” I asked and smiled. That was the first time anyone had mentioned wanting to raise a family in this house. But I could see it. I could see the kids jumping on the couch and skidding across the concrete floors in their socks. Why not? They would, indeed, be the coolest parents around.
“So, it was like kismet when Hailey contacted us the other day,” he said.
Wow. Kismet? Strong word.
“I think,” he said and smiled at his wife. “We want to make an offer.”
I had to contain my giggle of glee and said, very professionally, “Let’s draw up the paper work and see what we can do.”
“What if we pay cash?” the wife asked. “Could we maybe get a better deal, Teagan?”
Oh, hell yeah! Cash! Cash was king, lady! I didn’t say that. I just said, “We can certainly try, Alicia. Let’s get to work.”
The negotiations went smoothly. Roman agreed to the terms, which were relatively easy as the only contingency was for a home inspection, which the ho
use passed with flying colors. Within two weeks, which is a fast turnaround, the deal was signed, sealed and delivered.
And that, as they say, was that. Once I found the right buyer, it all worked out perfectly. It was almost like it used to be, when I first got to LA. It gave me hope. It really, really did.
But what now? What happened next? The house was sold, my commission check was in the bank. What now? What was next? Was there a next? I didn’t know and that scared me. I’d put so much into that house, into that listing, it seemed as though it would never end. But now as it came to a close, reality was setting in. I would no longer have a reason to be in contact with Roman, though I had made sure he knew we’d never be together and that I was staying with Kier.
I have to admit I did feel a little emptiness that it was over. It had been a beast to sell, but I was extremely happy with the results. Nevertheless, I had to face facts: The job was finished. Roman would be onto his next project. And I’d be onto the next phase in my life: Suzy Homemaker. I didn’t know how that set with me but it was the best option I had.
The thought scared me but I knew I was making the right choice. It was time to do other things in life, to move forward. Nothing was holding me back now. Everything was in place for my new life. Everything was perfect. Everything, that was, except a lingering doubt that I might just be making the biggest mistake of my life.
Je t’aime
One morning just a few weeks after Roman’s house closed, Kier and I were in the living room sitting on the couch and having our morning coffee. He was poring over the morning newspaper and I was on my phone, sending emails and texts. I wasn’t really paying attention to him and whenever he’d say something, I’d simply nod and go, “Mmmm…” But something he said piqued my curiosity.
“Oh, I have to go to Japan,” he said out of nowhere.
“What?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Japan.”
“Japan?” I said. “What do you mean, Japan?”
“I got an offer for one of those commercials again,” he said. “I want to go. Japan is fun.”
“Wow,” I said. “Japan?”
He nodded.
I thought about Japan, a place I’d never been. It sounded very cool. So, I said, “I’m onboard for that. When do we leave?”
He stared at me, his mouth falling open slightly, and said, “Oh, baby, you’d just be bored out of your skull. I won’t be there two, three days max. Then I’ll be back.”
I was surprised at his answer. He obviously didn’t want me to go, which was odd. But I let it go. I said, “I can handle two or three days. What’s the big deal?”
He shrugged. “Okay, honey.”
I stared at him. Was he…? Did he not want me to go with him to Japan? And for what reason? What was it? I shook my head and told myself I was just being paranoid. He probably remembered what a bad traveler I was. Though I loved to travel, I did complain about waiting in lines, the crowds, all that. I was a pain in the ass to travel with. He probably just wanted to go, get it done and get back home.
I smiled and kissed his cheek, then got up from the couch and grabbed my bag. “I have to get to the office. Want to meet for lunch?”
“Yeah, that would be good,” he said. “How about Amada’s?”
I froze. Amada’s? He wanted to go to Amada’s? My body lit up with that word, with the thought of that restaurant and my mind raced with the memory it triggered.
I stared at him, remembering it all. Once, when we had been married, I had asked him to meet me for dinner at a new restaurant I’d heard a lot good reports about. It was called Amada’s. He had agreed, telling me he’d be there. I got there first and waited in the parking lot for a while, looking around for him, getting angrier and angrier by the minute. I decided to just go in by myself and have dinner. I was starving and I was sick of waiting on him.
Once I entered the restaurant, I spotted him at the bar flirting with a really cute young woman. He’d been there the whole time and not once picked up his phone to let me know he was waiting on me. And there he was flirting, something he loved to do and something he was quite good at.
I turned on my heel and left, refusing to even think about what might have happened between him and the young woman. But that day at the restaurant was when I first started having real doubts about my husband and his fidelity.
And now I was feeling it again, this insecurity, just because he mentioned going out of town without me. But then I realized it would always be like this, whether or not he was actually cheating on me. This was the way I would live the rest of my life with him: Worrying, fretting, distrusting and creating conflict over suspicions.
Oh, fuck. It wasn’t going to change now, was it? Nope. It was probably just going to be the same thing over and over with Kier. And I’d just throw away something really, super special with Roman in favor of this. Yes, it was familiar. It was safe, in a way. But it would never been good because there would always be that little doubt in my head that he would cheat on me and rip out my heart again.
I pushed all of this out of my head. That was years ago and I had to let it go. If I were to move forward and remarry him and hope to have kids with him, all of that stuff in our past had to be let go. I had to grow up and get on with it.
So, I smiled at him and said, “Sounds cool. Listen, I have to get to work.” I rummaged in my bag for my keys, ignoring him again, then heard him say something. I looked up. “What is it?”
“Your cigarettes,” he said and pointed to the coffee table. “I said you forgot your cigarettes. You don’t listen to anything.”
“Oh, I quit again,” I said and stared at the cigarettes. Something in me wanted to grab one and light up. But, no, I had to be strong.
Old habits die hard. Quitting smoking was hell for me. Would quitting cheating be hell for Kier?
Then, all of a sudden, I got Roman’s reasoning, his refusal to give in to me, to our love. Roman knew Kier and I still had an attachment and he hadn’t been willing to give into me until he knew I had broken it for good. He was smart like that; I had to give it to him. He knew if he got involved with me while Kier was so obviously still in the picture, I might jump ship on him at any time. And he’d been right. I had jumped ship. In fact, I’d jumped from the frying pan into the fire. I was blinded by my own insecurities, by own feelings of distrust. I was blinded and fooled by a man I had once loved with every cell in my body, a man who was, simply, not right for me. A man who was now promising to be faithful to me but would he be? Could he be?
Oh, fuck. This was my life! If I stayed with Kier that’s all I would think about, obsess about, wonder about! I’d waste my life worrying if and with whom he was fucking. It was too much to think about, too much to consume.
That’s when I realized I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t go through with it. I couldn’t marry him again. Even if he was perfect and never even looked at another woman, I would always have that baggage, that fear he’d do it again. It would hang over my head and threaten to humiliate me at any moment. I was over fighting about it, thinking about it, dealing with it.
I would never be enough for him and I knew it. He needed the love and adoration of millions. I was, simply, only one person in a sea of admiring faces.
“Teagan?” Kier said and got up from the couch and walked over to me. “You there? It’s like you blanked out on me for a second.”
I had. I shook myself and forced a smile. “I was just thinking about this thing… It’s nothing. Amada’s sounds good, Kier.”
He nodded. “It’s good. We should go. I can’t believe you’ve never eaten there before.”
I resisted the urge to share my thoughts with him and said, “I guess I just never got around to it. But it’s fine. I’ll meet you there about noon. Okay?”
“Cool with me,” he said and sat back down on the couch, picked up the morning paper and started to peruse it again. “Oh, your cigarettes.”
I smiled and walked over, picked them up and
tossed them in my bag. Then I leaned over him and stared into his eyes, knowing that this was it, that it was over. And while I was sad and while I knew I’d cry and grieve, I knew I was making the right decision. He was special but he wasn’t right for me and he never had been. It was tough to confess that to myself, but I had to if I was ever going to move forward.
I gave him a nice, soft kiss, then pulled back. “Love you,” I said.
“Love you, too,” he replied with a smile.
I pulled back and headed to the door, then paused and said, “Oh, you know what? I can’t make it on that trip to Japan. I just remembered something that came up.”
He nodded. “Cool,” he said. “We can go some other time.”
I smiled at him and said, “Sure can! Have a good day, baby.”
“You too,” he said.
I winked at him and left, going to my car, controlling my emotions until I was on the street and then when I was out of sight, I burst into tears, shaking my head at what a complete idiot I was. It would never be on my terms. It would always be on his terms. Then the realization hit me. Roman wasn’t the one trying to control me. He wanted to set me from my encumbrances, from my trust issues because of my bad, past relationships.
It was Kier who wanted to control me by whispering sweet nothings in my ear and keeping me hanging on, waiting, suspended in air, in time, to give me his heart once and for all. And he couldn’t do that. His heart belonged to millions of others, his fans, the ones who adored him. If I were to be with him, I would have to share him and I was sick of sharing my man.
Then I realized I was stuck. I had to move forward this time, once and for all. And I would. Having sold Roman’s house, I knew I could make it on my own. I knew I’d been through a hard time but if I kept at it, I would always be able to take care of myself in one way or another.
I was just happy I hadn’t leased my bungalow yet. I was moving back in as soon as I could. I also came up with another brilliant idea. I could sell my engagement ring back to the jeweler and take the money, along with the commission check I’d gotten from selling Roman’s house, and pay off all my debts, including my bungalow. If I did this, I would no longer find myself in that sort of pinch again and feeling that sort of desperation. If I did that, I’d always have a place to call home.