The Ex Files

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The Ex Files Page 11

by Victoria Christopher Murray


  Vanessa’s eyes were as wide as her mouth. Her glance ricocheted between the two women. Then, with a breath, she returned to her typing.

  “It might help to talk about it,” Nadine said.

  “Yeah; we’re here for you,” Monica added.

  If you do it, you won’t hurt anymore.

  Vanessa blinked, stood, grabbed her purse, and then rushed from the office, just as R. Kelly began singing on the radio about happy people.

  Vanessa waited until she was home before she called Louise.

  “Okay, what happened?” Louise asked the moment she heard Vanessa’s voice.

  “Nothing.” She held her head as she paced in her bedroom. “Everything.” The memory of their words and their faces, gaping at her as if she and her tragedy were tabloid news, was trapped in her mind. “Let’s just say you were right,” Vanessa continued. “Maybe I need a bit more time away from work.”

  “I’m here to tell you.”

  “I’ll take the entire three weeks they gave me.” Slowly she lowered herself onto the bed and wondered why her head ached.

  If you do it, you won’t hurt anymore.

  Vanessa said, “I’m really glad we’re going out to dinner. I need to be around someone who’s normal.”

  “Hey,” Louise said. “I was just about to call you when you called me. Can we do a rain check on dinner?”

  No! Vanessa’s heart cried. “Rain check?” She tried to keep her voice from quivering.

  “Yeah, Jon called and he wants to have dinner.”

  But I was first.

  “And you know the problems we’ve been having.”

  What about my problem?

  “And I miss Jon. I really do.”

  That I understand.

  “So, when he called and said he missed me and wanted to get together, I had to say yes.” Louise paused, just realizing her friend hadn’t said a word. “Vanessa, I hope it’s okay.”

  Vanessa reached deep inside for her normal voice. “It’s fine.”

  “Thanks,” Louise gushed, and Vanessa wondered how her best friend couldn’t hear her distress. “Let’s do dinner tomorrow.”

  If Jon doesn’t call again. “Okay,” Vanessa said, doubting that her friend would remember this promise. Once she got together with Jon, Vanessa knew she wouldn’t hear from Louise for a couple of days. That had been her best friend’s pattern. In the past that didn’t matter—not when she had Reed. But tonight she needed her friend. Tomorrow could be too late.

  “I’ll call you, Vanessa. Hopefully, I’ll be too busy to ring you tonight.” She giggled.

  Vanessa wondered if Louise noticed that she’d hung up without saying good-bye. Probably not, now that Jon was back.

  Her eyes wandered around the bedroom and rested on the photo of Reed on the nightstand. His eyes locked with hers, but then she shook her glance away. Alone.

  There had to be someone she could call. The light flashed on the answering machine—there was hope.

  “You have one new message,” the recorder spoke to her when she hit the Play button. “Vanessa, this is Mother. I haven’t spoken to you in a week and I don’t know why you—” Vanessa pressed Delete, and then Play again for more messages, even though she already knew her mother was the only one.

  “There has to be more,” she said to the machine.

  Her friends had gathered from the moment they heard the news. They’d surrounded her with love and promises.

  “You won’t have to go through this alone.”

  “I will always be here for you.”

  “If there is anything you need, just let us know.”

  But after the funeral, the calls had been so few. Only Louise—and her mother—called every day. And tonight, she didn’t even have Louise.

  “It’s okay,” she said to the walls. “Everyone has their own lives.” But still, the tears made their way to her eyes.

  In the bathroom, she looked at the bottles lined on the counter.

  If you do it, you won’t hurt anymore.

  Her body shook with the sobs that rose within her. She leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. Alone. She couldn’t do this—alone. She couldn’t do this anymore.

  Chapter Twenty

  SHERIDAN

  “Surprise!”

  The light clicked on, and Brock stood at the door, his mouth open. “Sheridan…what?”

  In an instant, her arms were around him. “Welcome home, baby.”

  He returned her kiss, then slipped the garment bag from his shoulders. “You could give a guy a heart attack.” He grinned. “What are you doing here?”

  “I know you said you’d take a cab, but I wanted to make sure that when you got here, my man had some inkling just how much his woman missed him.”

  “Your man, my woman huh?” He pulled her back into his arms. “I like the way that sounds.”

  “I hope you don’t mind—I got the keys from Mr. Leigh,” she said, referring to the next-door neighbor who had been his grandmother’s longtime friend.

  “I don’t mind; I want you to have a key.”

  “Never mind that right now,” she said, steering away from that conversation. “Tell me about your trip. How’s your mom?” Sheridan dragged Brock into the living room.

  “She’s great.” With a weary sigh, he flopped onto the couch. “Sends her love. Wants to know why you never come home with me.”

  She covered his lips with hers. “Hungry?” she asked when she broke their embrace.

  He rested his head on the back of the sofa. “Too tired to think about food.”

  “You sure?”

  He sat up, sniffed. “Wait, is that coconut chicken?”

  She grinned. “Hungry now?”

  “Hungry for you.”

  She pulled him up and led him into the kitchen. He sat at the counter while she filled his plate. He moaned when she placed the dish in front of him.

  “You are amazing,” he said, his mouth stuffed with his first forkful. With the tip of her tongue, she licked a dab of coconut gravy from the corner of his lip. “Don’t distract me. I’ve got some major damage to do here.” He pointed to his plate. “So, tell me what’s been going on? How’s Tori? Your mom?”

  “I spoke to my mom this morning. She’s fine; handling Dad being gone a lot better than I am.” She sighed. “And Tori, well, she’s Tori. All grown up. Too much and too fast for me.”

  He nodded. “Too much, too fast—the definition of a teenager.”

  “And then, there’s Quentin.”

  The mention of her ex’s name slapped his smile away. “What’s up with him?”

  “I ran into him at Starbucks and I’m really worried, Brock. Tori told me he had a new lover.” His eyebrows arched. Sheridan continued, “Her words. Anyway, I asked him—”

  Brock held up his hands. “You asked him if he had a new lover?”

  “Not in those words, but I wanted to know.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I care. Since we divorced, I’ve had one relationship—you. But I can’t even count the number of people he’s been with.”

  “And?”

  “And, since he’s my children’s father, I’m concerned.”

  Brock pushed his plate away. “All you need to be concerned about is if he’s paying his child support. But his life is not your business.”

  “I’m not saying it is. But I was with Quentin for a long time. I can’t stop caring about him just like that.”

  Brock’s eyes thinned. “Just like that? Sheridan, it’s been three years.”

  “And I was married to him for almost twenty.”

  “Okay,” he said slowly. Brock began shaking his head. “So tell me, Sheridan, what am I doing here? If you have all of these concerns and cares about Quentin, if his business is your business, what am I doing here?”

  “Don’t turn this into more than it is. You’re here…because I love you.”

  He chuckled. “It’s taken me all this time to figure it out.”


  “Figure out what?”

  “While I was away, I stepped back, looked at us. Tried to figure us out. I knew there was more to your stalling than what you’ve said. Quentin is the reason you can’t commit to me.” He paused, gave her the chance to deny it. When she said nothing, his chuckle sounded like a groan. “You don’t want to get married because you’re waiting for Quentin.”

  She held up her hands. “You’re way wrong here, Brock. I haven’t loved Quentin for a long time. He’s not the reason I don’t want to marry you.”

  His body stiffened.

  “I mean…I do want to marry you,” she corrected.

  “Make up your mind.”

  “I’m just not ready. But that doesn’t mean…” She stopped, as if she had no more words.

  He pushed away from the counter. Stood, and moved until only inches separated them. “Tell me, when, Sheridan?” he whispered. “When will you be ready to marry me?”

  They stood, eyes locked; Sheridan turned away first. She didn’t have to look at him to know that her silence was louder than spoken words. His hurt was palpable.

  Behind her, she heard Brock dump what remained on his plate into the trash can. “I’m tired.”

  She faced him and reached out, but then stopped her hand in midair. When he made no move toward her, she backed from the kitchen.

  In the living room, she grabbed her jacket and purse. She glanced again at the kitchen. But she heard no sounds, saw no movement.

  Her heart told her to rush back to him. Set a wedding date, promise to love him, only him, forever. But her head wouldn’t allow her legs to take her where her heart wanted to go.

  Finally, she whispered, “Good-bye, Brock.” He couldn’t hear her, but still she wished he’d come to her. Sheridan opened the door and stepped into the black of the night.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  ASIA

  “So, tell me this again,” Noon said, following Asia into the dressing room on the sixth floor of Neiman Marcus. “Bobby’s wife knew about you all this time?”

  Asia nodded. “I’ve been played.” She shrugged off her leather jacket and slipped off the matching pants. She held the ankle-length designer skirt up and twisted in front of the mirror.

  Noon flopped into the oversized corner chair. “Wow.” She shook her head. “But I still can’t believe you had the audacity to march into that woman’s house. She could have had a gun or something.”

  “I knew enough about Caroline Fitzgerald Johnson to know she wouldn’t have a gun.”

  “Still, she could’ve had a knife, something.”

  Asia slipped into a beaded black dress. “She’s not like us, Noon.” Her tone dripped with sadness. “Too much class.”

  “Still…” Noon stopped and grinned. “You’re my girl, though. It took a lot of balls to go up there.”

  “What was I supposed to do? Just let Bobby walk away?” Asia still could not believe her plan had gone awry. “Caroline was supposed to get so upset, so riled up, that by the time Bobby got home, she’d be standing at the door with divorce papers.”

  “And then he would come running to you.”

  “That was the plan.” She sighed as she stepped into another dress.

  “Girl, you should have known better. Women like Caroline are not giving up anything to women like us.”

  Noon’s words were like fingernails scratching on a chalkboard. Women like Caroline. Women like us. Asia had worked so hard to step away from the “women like us” crowd. But as she remembered the way Caroline had looked at her, talked to her, laughed at her, Asia realized that her past was not far—just twenty miles south on the 405 freeway.

  “So, what did Bobby say? I know he was livid.”

  Asia shrugged as if she didn’t care. “I haven’t heard from him.” But she kept the rest of that statement to herself. And I’m scared. She knew Bobby would be upset about her visit to his wife, but after the way Caroline had manhandled her, there was no need for Bobby to be angry.

  It hadn’t been easy to accept. For days now, Asia had fantasized about getting rid of Caroline Fitzgerald Johnson. But even if she were to turn up dead, Asia now knew that didn’t mean Bobby would marry her. And anyway, she’d seen too many investigative reports of someone going down because the person they’d hired had screwed up. She wasn’t going out like that.

  Now clad in only her bra and panties, Asia glanced at herself in the mirror. She was still young, twenty-eight, but could easily pass for someone five years younger. And she was still fine, even if she said so herself. You couldn’t pinch an inch on any part of her.

  She’d been out of the game for ten years, but with a little work, she could capture the heart and wallet of another man.

  But before she turned her focus to a new love, she had to take care of the old one.

  “I cannot believe Bobby didn’t call and curse you out!” Noon exclaimed.

  “It’s not like he wants to piss me off.” Asia slipped into her pants and then handed the three outfits and her credit card to the sales clerk who’d waited outside the room. “And when you think about it,” Asia continued, “I didn’t do anything. His wife already knew; I didn’t reveal our dirty little secret.”

  “Still, you know how these men are about protecting their precious wives.”

  Asia held up her hands. “I get it now. So you can stop—”

  “Excuse me,” the clerk interrupted Asia. “Do you have another credit card?” She lowered her voice. “This one’s been declined.”

  Asia frowned. “Impossible. Run it again.”

  The clerk nodded as both Asia and Noon looked on, but moments later, the machine delivered the same rejection.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong.” Asia tried not to tremble as she handed the clerk another card. “Try this one.”

  As the clerk took the Visa, Noon said, “Do you think Bobby—”

  “Of course not,” she said, although her mind had already taken her there. “He would never do that. I have Angel.”

  But when the clerk looked up again with sad eyes, both Asia and Noon knew the truth.

  Noon opened her purse. “How much is all of that? Twenty-five hundred? Just put it on my card and you can pay me back.”

  “No, that’s all right,” Asia said. To the clerk, she asked, “Can you hold these until tomorrow?”

  The clerk nodded, although with her eyes, she said that she didn’t expect to see Asia again.

  “Do you wanna get a bite to eat?” Noon asked, when they were outside the store. “My treat.”

  Asia shook her head. “Angel’s coming home early today.” She was relieved when her friend accepted the lie and just hugged her. She held back her tears, and waved before she slipped into her car.

  What am I going to do? Inside, she trembled. She’d never had a job. Spent her days working out, shopping, hanging out with friends. She’d always lived on Bobby’s money. How was she going to take care of Angel if Bobby closed his bank to her?

  You and Angel will be taken care of.

  That was his promise, but maybe it was different now. Maybe it was different because of his wife.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  ASIA

  Asia had waited for hours. Waited for Angel to come home. Then waited through dinner. And finally, waited for Angel to fall asleep.

  Now, she picked up the phone expecting to leave the first message. But Bobby answered after a couple of rings.

  “This is Asia.”

  “What is it?”

  It hurt her, the way he spoke. As if they didn’t have the years between them. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Talk.”

  She swallowed. “I’m sure your…wife has told you that I came to see her a few days ago. I’m calling to apologize.”

  Silence followed her words.

  “Bobby, I’m sorry.”

  “Why did you do that, Asia? You were never supposed to come to my home.”

  His words were sharper this time. Th
eir meaning cut deeper.

  She squeezed her hand into a fist. “I’m sorry,” she said, and wondered how many more times she’d be able to say that.

  “I explained it all to you.”

  “It’s just hard for me to accept. You have to understand, I’ve loved you for a long time. And I always thought you and I…we’d be married.”

  “I never said I would marry you.”

  This time the words were a bullet to her heart. He had made that promise—not with what he said, but with what he did. “You’ve got to give me time to get used to the idea of living without you.”

  He was quiet.

  “I promise I won’t make any more trips to…your wife.”

  “I don’t want any more drama.”

  “There won’t be.” A beat. “I promise.”

  This time he spoke softly, “This is best, Asia. You’ll find someone else.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Well,” he began, “I guess you know I canceled your credit cards.”

  She held her breath; she wasn’t going to beg.

  “I’ll fix that in the morning and get my lawyers working on the settlement again.” He paused, added, “I really do want to take care of you and Angel.”

  As it should be, she thought. “There is one last thing.”

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t want this to affect Angel. Bobby, she needs you and I want you to spend as much time with her as possible.”

  “Really?”

  “You sound surprised.”

  “I just thought…so many of the cats I know with…arrangements like this have challenges seeing their kids.”

  “I don’t want it to be that way with us. So, would you mind spending time with her?”

  “Are you kidding? I love her to death. When can I come by?”

  Tomorrow, she thought, but she didn’t want to seem too anxious. “Whenever is good for you.”

  “Okay, I’ll check with my attorney and get back to you.” He paused. “Maybe I do owe you an apology, for the way it all turned out. I just hope that we can be friends.”

  Never. “We’ll always be friends, Bobby.”

  There was relief in his sigh. “Thank you, Asia. I truly am sorry.”

 

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