by Kally Ash
She felt the first of her tears as she yanked her suitcase up the few steps in front of her apartment and opened up the door. The ride in the elevator was smooth and uninterrupted, the car slowing to a stop on her level. She was undecided whether she wanted Jen to be home or not. If she was, they could talk and Jen would no doubt try to cheer her up. If not, then Gigi could lick her wounds in peace.
Opening up the door to her apartment, she looked around. The place was in the same disarray it normally was, but it was silent. She quickly walked to her room and shut the door. Propping the suitcase up against the wall, she sank onto her bed, her eyes fixing on the bright yellow ceiling.
“I thought I heard you come in.”
Gigi looked up to find Jen standing in the doorway.
“What’s wrong?” her roommate asked, her expression turning serious.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
She stepped into the room. “Bullshit. You’ve been crying.”
Gigi swiped a hand under her eyes. “I’m fine.”
“Again, that’s bullshit.” Jen nudged her to move over, lying down next to her on the bed.
“Did my asshole of a boss do something to upset you?”
“He’s not an asshole.”
“That’s because you don’t work for him.”
“Actually, I do… I mean, I did. I quit.”
Jen sat up, jostling Gigi. “Really? Why? It seemed like a pretty sweet deal to me. Did he at least pay you for the days you did work?”
She shook her head, making Jen’s frown deepen. “That douchebag. Don’t worry, Borello. I’ll make him pay up.” The idea of making Max’s life more difficult obviously appealed to Jen because she was now smiling widely.
“Jen, please don’t.”
“Why not? He can’t expect you to work and not pay you.”
Gigi sighed. “Can you let me deal with this? Please?”
Jen’s eyes narrowed. “There’s something more to this, isn’t there? Why’d you quit? Did he make a pass at you or something?”
“Or something,” Gigi replied under her breath.
For a few seconds, Jen was silent before she said, “He got into your panties, didn’t he?”
Gigi looked into Jen’s blue eyes and felt the weight of her secret like it was planted directly on to her shoulders.
“Holy fuck,” Jen breathed, looking impressed. “You have to tell me everything.”
And Gigi did. Starting from the beginning, she told her about their first meeting, their subsequent breakfast and her moving in.
“Just get to the good bits,” Jen urged. “Get to the part where you got to see his cock.”
“You can be so crude sometimes. You know that, don’t you?”
“Ha! You love it when I talk dirty to you,” Jen shot back.
“It all started with a kiss,” Gigi said. Jen made the appropriate noises to that information. “He’d apologized to me afterwards, telling me it shouldn’t have happened, but then later on, he went down on me while I was pinned to the hallway wall.”
“Hot,” Jen commented. “But I didn’t think you did casual anything, Borello.”
She shrugged. “I don’t, but there’s something about Max that made me want to try. I didn’t think it was anything special for him—you know just a one-time thing—so I agreed to go on a date with Alex when he asked me.”
“Wait!” Jen said, sitting up and crossing her legs, facing Gigi. “You went out on a date with Alex?”
Gigi nodded. “Yeah, and I also suggested we go on another one after that since Max had called me to come home early…. What? What’s that look for?” she asked, eying Jen suspiciously.
“Nothing, I’m just impressed. Two guys at once…I didn’t think you had it in you.”
Gigi rolled her eyes. “Anyway, when I got home—”
“He told you it was all a mistake and fucked you stupid?” Jen said, hopeful.
“Not exactly. We started up again, but he had to go to work. He woke me up when he got home and we made love.”
“It wasn’t just fucking?”
Gigi shook her head. “We slept in the same bed. I assumed it was only sex, but he wanted me to stay with him.”
“Is he any good?”
Gigi could tell it was a question she had wanted to ask for a long time. “I’m not going to answer that,” she replied acidly.
Her roommate put her hands up in the universal sign for surrender. “Okay, okay. So what happened? Why did you quit if things were going so great?”
Gigi’s chest expanded with a deep breath. “His wife showed up.”
It looked as if Jen’s jaw had suddenly unhinged. “Wife? Max is married? Did you know?”
“Yes, yes, and no. He’d told me his wife had died. He never spoke about her beyond that, and I just thought he was still grieving, or he just didn’t want to share that stuff with me.”
“What did Max say to you? Did he explain?”
“I didn’t let him. I was too upset. I just packed my suitcase and left.”
A buzzing came from the intercom out in the living room. Gigi looked at Jen. “If that’s him, I don’t want to see him.”
Jen frowned for a moment then scooted off the bed. “If that’s what you want, Borello,” she said softly, disappearing out the door. Gigi draped her forearm over her face to block out the glaringly cheerful sunshine streaming through the window above her bed. Although wallowing all day was what she wanted to do, she couldn’t. She had to get to class.
Standing up, she looked at herself in the mirror, wiping away the tears and finger-combing her hair. At least she didn’t look like she’d been crying. She quickly got changed and collected the books she needed for class. Stepping from her room, she found Jen standing at the intercom.
“I told you already that she doesn’t want to see you.” She looked at Gigi as she spoke.
“And I said I won’t be long. I just need to explain the situation to her.” Max sounded angry, but under that anger was desperation. “Please.”
Jen raised her eyebrows in question. Clutching at the strap across her body, Gigi shook her head. She wasn’t ready to see Max yet; the wounds were still raw.
“Sorry, asshole,” Jen muttered, releasing the button. She shrugged. “I doubt he’ll leave.”
Gigi suspected as much too. “I guess I’ll have to take the rear exit then.”
“Good thinking. I’ll try get rid of him in the meantime.”
“Thanks, Jen. I’ll see you this afternoon?”
“I’ll be here. I might even have a bottle of vodka with your name on it to help drown your sorrows,” she added with a mischievous grin.
“Sounds like a plan,” Gigi said, making sure her keys were in her pocket and reaching for the door. “I’ll see you.”
*
Gigi stayed in the library until it closed at eight. She had no intentions of going back to her apartment if there was a slight chance Max was still hanging around. From the texts and voicemails she’d listened to, he still was. He kept telling her to call him when she got the message. She deleted them all and turned off her phone.
Earlier, she’d texted Jen to let her know she was staying back later than usual. Jen had replied that the vodka was in the fridge and her schedule was clear. The walk home had been a nervous one. She was constantly looking over her shoulder, her eyes scanning for Max. Although she knew he couldn’t possibly have stayed outside her apartment all day, it didn’t stop her from thinking that he just might have.
Approaching her building, Gigi breathed a sigh of relief; Max wasn’t there. She pulled open the flap of her messenger bag and searched around for her keys. Unlocking the front door, she stepped inside and made her way up the stairs to the second floor. Before she could even get the key in the door, Jen pulled the thing open. In her free hand was the bottle of vodka she’d promised. It looked expensive.
With a devilish grin, Jen said, “I swiped this from work.”
“Jen,” she groaned.
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“Hey, if Max is going to screw you over—sorry, wrong choice of words—then I’m going to return the favor.”
“You’ll get fired if he finds out.”
Her roommate laughed. “He won’t find out. I asked Jeremy to take one off the inventory for me.”
Taking the opportunity to change the subject and take her own mind off Max, Gigi raised an eyebrow at Jen and smiled. “Jeremy, huh? What’s going on there?”
Jen’s expression turned dreamy. “Nothing…yet. But give me time, Borello.” Giving Gigi a little shove in the direction of the couch, Jen added, “Now, go and get comfortable and prepare yourself to get drunk.”
Gigi slumped onto the couch, letting the cushions swamp her body until she was being cocooned by them. All day her heart had been aching. She doubted she took in anything that her professors had told her, her mind too preoccupied with Max. How could he have lied to her like that? That fact hurt more than the betrayal.
“Here. Drink this. You’re wearing the same expression you had on this morning.”
She took the glass from Jen, the cubes of ice knocking together as she brought it to her lips. She cringed after she swallowed, the liquor burning her throat. She let her eyes roam around the room, but they stopped when they reached a bouquet of long-stemmed red roses.
“Where did they come from,” she demanded, pointing at the flowers like they were carrying the Ebola virus.
Jen peered over her shoulder. “Oh. Them. They arrived about an hour after you left.”
Gigi could see a card sticking from the top. “They’re from Max.”
Jen shrugged. “I didn’t read the card, but that’s what I assumed.”
Putting her glass down, Gigi got up and plucked the card from the clear plastic arm. Sliding her finger under the edge of the flap, she opened up the envelope and pulled out the card.
Gigi,
I’m so sorry. I’ll tell you everything. Call me. Max xx
“Is he begging for your forgiveness?”
Wordlessly, Gigi passed the card to Jen and swallowed the rest of her vodka. She coughed, but was determined to follow through with the getting drunk plan Jen had come up with. She poured herself another drink.
Jen turned to look at her now standing at the kitchen bench. “Are you going to call him?” Gigi shook her head. “Why not?”
“There’s no point. The whole relationship—if that’s what you can call it—was pointless. He’s leaving in a few months—maybe sooner.”
Jen frowned. “So, you’re just not going to try?”
“There’s no point,” she repeated.
Standing up, Jen walked towards her. “Does he treat you nicely?”
“Yes.”
“Does he respect you?”
“Yes,” she sighed, not liking where this line of questioning was going.
“Does he worship you in bed?”
Her breathing hitched, her body remembering just how well he had taken pleasure in her body. “Yes.”
“Well, if you ask me, which I know you are, you need to give that man a call.”
“You don’t even like him,” Gigi shot back.
Jen shrugged. “I don’t have to. You do.”
Gigi tried to find a hole in Jen’s logic, but she was right. Max made her feel like nobody had ever made her feel before. Perhaps she had overreacted, but he could hardly blame her. They’d just mutually masturbated in his bed only minutes before his wife, his supposedly dead wife, showed up at the door. She wasn’t afraid to admit that she was intimidated. The woman was stunning. She’d introduced herself as Chelsea, although at the time, Gigi’s mind was far from retaining that information. All she knew was the little world she had created with Max was beginning to crumble.
She should have heard him out. He was genuinely sorry for what had happened, but she was too embarrassed to even consider what he was asking her to do. The only thing she was focused on was getting away from him as fast as she could; her humiliation had been debilitating.
“So, what are you going to do?”
Gigi considered Jen’s question. She knew what she had to do, but she didn’t have the strength tonight. Pouring herself another glass of vodka, she topped off Jen’s and picked up her drink. “We’re going to get drunk and then I’ll deal with it all tomorrow.”
Chapter 25
Max hit redial and put the phone to his ear. Gigi’s voicemail kicked in straight away and he ended the call. He was tired of leaving messages he was pretty sure she was just deleting. It was after ten in the evening; she had to be home from school by now. She hadn’t called him back, which meant she had ignored Max’s floral apology. He dropped his phone onto the couch and stalked around the living room, running his hands through his hair.
Erin had gone down for the night a couple of hours ago, so he was effectively housebound. Thank fuck he didn’t have to make an appearance at the club. He was in absolutely no mood to deal with drunk people slurring their words and stumbling about the place. He went into the kitchen and opened up one of the cupboards, searching for what he hoped was there. When everything in his life was moderately okay, he didn’t usually drink anything more potent than beer. He’d drunk when he’d discovered Chelsea gone, and now he was going to drink because she’d barged back into his life and demanded he love her again.
Snagging the bottle of Grey Goose, he grabbed a short glass and moved back to the couch.
Setting the bottle and glass down on the table, Max sank into the couch beside his phone and picked it up.
No missed calls.
Big fucking surprise.
Leaning forward, he opened up the vodka and poured himself a double. As he sipped, he thought back to how the day had started off. It had been perfect. Watching Gigi come while she watched him watch her was perhaps one of the best ways to begin a day. Her skin had flushed with color the closer she came to release, and the little moans and groans she was making had made him impossibly hard. He hadn’t been directly responsible for getting her to make those noises, but he had been a damn unmistakeable part of it.
But it had all turned to shit with Chelsea’s arrival. After Gigi had left, Max had followed her, had tried to speak to her, but it didn’t do any good. Jen had blocked him before he even made it through the front door.
By the time he’d returned home, he had somewhat calmed down. Although he would rather be skinned alive, he realized it was time he talked to the woman who had abandoned him and their daughter to find out just what the fuck had been going through her head.
“You’re here now. You might as well just tell me why you left us,” Max said. He was too agitated to sit down. His mind was still replaying the look on Gigi’s face as she looked at Chelsea over his shoulder and told him she quit.
Patting the seat beside her on the couch, Chelsea said, “Come sit down. You’re awfully wound up.”
“Just tell me, Chelsea. Don’t try to fucking placate me.”
Her expression was pinched, but she nodded and crossed her legs. He was ashamed to admit that he watched the action. “I just couldn’t do it anymore, Max.”
“Couldn’t do what, exactly?”
“Be a mommy. Stay at home all day, look after Erin. Before I got pregnant, I could hold lunches and spend all day shopping if I wanted to.”
He ground his teeth together. Yeah, she’d do those things, and spend his money while she was at it. “Being a parent is about making sacrifices.”
“I know that,” she hissed. “I wasn’t ready to give up my freedom though.”
He bit his tongue. Although she was a former cheerleader and painfully vain, he knew she wasn’t stupid—no matter how hard people tried to stereotype her.
“You probably should have thought about that before you got pregnant.”
She shrugged. “I thought it would fix our marriage.”
He glared at her. “Where did you go when you left?”
“Back to Chase.”
He suddenly saw red when he blin
ked, and there was a ringing in his ears that had nothing to do with any external alarm going off. Back in the final weeks of their senior year, Chelsea had cheated on him...
With Chase.
Chase had been one of his best friends, but fucking his girl put an end to that friendship. It seemed that Max had been the last to know, and when he found out, he fucking lost it. He’d cussed Chelsea out in front of the entire school, swearing never to forgive her, or Chase. He held his resolve for about a month…
Until Chelsea came to him one day in tears. She told him she was pregnant and she didn’t know who the father was. Chase had sworn up and down that they had used protection, but according to Chelsea, the condom had broken. Facing the disapproval of her parents, Chelsea convinced Max that they needed to get back together and tell everyone the baby was his.
He couldn’t trust her after her betrayal, but he’d been raised right. If there was a possibility that the kid was his, he was going to do the proper thing and take care of it and Chelsea. As soon as they’d graduated, he stayed true to his word and he and Chelsea had a civil ceremony at city hall. Three weeks later, Chelsea had told him the truth: she had never been pregnant. She’d lied to him so they could get back together.
He should have gotten the damn marriage annulled as soon as she’d dropped the bombshell, but he had no intention of being a divorcee at the tender age of eighteen. Instead, just to spite Chelsea, he stuck it out. He didn’t think he could forgive her for going back to Chase a second time though. As soon as Max got back from New York, he was going to see his lawyer and get the divorce papers drawn up. He was also going to make damn sure she wouldn’t get custody of Erin. He was just thankful that his mother had insisted on there being a pre-nuptial agreement. It turned out his mom’s instant dislike of Chelsea from the beginning had been for good reason.