I’m feeling particularly maudlin today as I often do on my birthdays. Even though I have good friends to celebrate it with now, I still don’t have the one thing I’ve always wanted and needed, a family of my own.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Answer your phone when I call.
Things have changed, I would very much like to see you and speak to you face to face. There are things to discuss.
Forever yours… always. Even now.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: No.
Let me guess… she left your ass and now suddenly you’re interested in me again? That’s not how this works. I’m not interested anymore. Besides, not that it’s any of your business but I am seeing somebody. Give it up already. Go be a dad and a husband.
Okay, so that was a lie. I’m not seeing anybody at all but I’m about done with feeling like this. Every time I open his emails or see his missed calls I die inside. How can my love and emotions for him be this intense even after all this time?
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: You really hate me… don’t you?
Can we please talk? If only for a moment. I miss your voice.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: I hate myself and how you make me feel.
Why do you insist on dragging this out? I miss your voice too, but it doesn’t change anything. Can we just… be normal? Can we talk about mundane shit like you promised?
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: I still make you feel… this is good. Sei cosi importante per me.
How was your drive to work? Is it raining in Seattle?
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Ti amo. Though I wish I didn’t.
It’s not, it’s really warm which is nice for a change. My drive to work was uneventful. Though I can’t say that about yesterday’s as I almost hit an old man chasing a balloon for his grandson.
I thought only children ran into the roads after inanimate objects, but apparently cane-wielding old folks with fanny packs and wobbly knees also like to forget jaywalking rules.
Everybody was fine.
I may have cussed a little. I’m not proud of it but nobody heard me so I can forgive myself.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Ti amo. Ti amo. Ti amo.
Glad everyone was okay, sounds like a rough way to start your day.
What did you have for lunch?
I laugh, I can’t help it. He’s really aiming for those boring questions like I asked, but I’m going to play along for now. I shouldn’t. But I am.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: You’re not allowed to love me.
I had a PB&J, some salted chips, a bag of cookies, a banana, some grapes, and a coffee.
I’ve gained a couple of pounds since I started working here. I need to hit the gym more.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Love doesn’t need permission to thrive.
I love PB&J. I love extra pounds, especially on you.
I want to ask for a visual but I’m terrified you’ll stop replying to my emails.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Love is a dick, that’s why. Love needs to find a new home.
That’s a clever way of asking without fully committing to the question.
The answer is no.
How was your day?
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Love found its home in us. It doesn’t need a new one.
I knew you’d appreciate it. I don’t see any visuals attached to the email so I’m safely assuming your answer was no.
My day is abysmal. I want to be with my love on her birthday, but she won’t permit it, despite the fact I know she wants it.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: That home was demolished long ago, it lingers in the rubble pointlessly.
It’s my birthday. Of course I want it. All I ever wanted was you.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: There’s nothing pointless about our lingering love.
In that case, I’m outside of your apartment. I will wait for an hour. If you choose to join me, or not, it is your decision.
I would very much like to see you.
No way…
He’s kidding right?
What do I do?
I consider calling Laurie but then she’ll talk me out of it and I really don’t want to be talked out of it. For all my bravado and desperation to stay away, I can’t help but want to pull him close whenever I get the chance.
It’s not right. In fact, it’s so wrong. Especially after hearing Elizabeth cry the way she did.
How did he even find out where I live? I suppose his ridiculous amount of money had something to do with it.
He’s come all this way, the least I can do is glance at him.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: It’s pointless when it can’t continue…
Like our meeting. It’s not fair on those you love. Elizabeth will be devastated. She’s pregnant.
* * *
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: I don’t believe that.
Please join me outside so we can talk. I swear I will not touch you. You have my written promise. Just give me time. Let me take you to dinner on your birthday, or anywhere you desire. I know you don’t have plans with Robert, he told me so himself.
Of course he did.
That has Robert all over it.
Though why they’re discussing me when I expressly asked them not to is anyone’s guess.
Sighing, I dress in casual jean cut-offs and a white, long-sleeve, deep-V shirt that shows my cleavage and a hint of my white lace bra beneath. I add mascara, blush, and matte lipstick and even put on my favorite multi-layer gold necklace. I’m not trying to look good at all.
He’s looking at his phone when I exit through the main doors of my apartment building. Damn, he looks good, his hair is shorter, his jaw shaved clean, his free hand tucked into the pocket of dark jeans, his arm muscles tight against the white button-up that reveals the dip of his throat.
I stop and give myself a moment to compose myself.
I miss his body against mine so terribly I ache.
Feeling me watching him he looks up, and I stop myself from racing into his arms.
“Hey, beautiful,” he whispers when I approach slowly, and true to his word he doesn’t touch me, he doesn’t even kiss my cheek, just turns to the car that he parked illegally and opens the door for me.
“You’ve got to stop leaving your car wherever you want. You’re going to get a ticket.”
“I’m waiting right by it,” he argues with a smile. “It doesn’t count.”
He’s got me there.
“I got you a gift,” he says softly and nods to the back seat of the car.
I turn and look over my shoulder, spying the gift-wrapped package in the middle of the seats. “What is it?”
“Don’t open it yet,” he urges, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. After switching on the radio, he k
eeps his eyes forward as I reach for the box that doesn’t feel too heavy. “Not yet.”
“That’s just cruel,” I mumble, pouting at him.
“I know, but there’s a thing to the gift that I need to talk to you about.”
“Now I’m even more curious.”
He laughs and goes to place his hand on my thigh but then he thinks better of it and places it back on the wheel. “Hopefully you’ll love it.”
“You’re the master gift giver, I doubt I’ll love it even a fraction less than you intended.”
We smile at each other and I wonder how we got here from what we were.
I miss him.
“I miss you,” I say before I can stop myself. “So much.”
“Not as much as I miss you. Trust me.”
In the restaurant we sit in a private area beyond patterned dividers. Such a romantic setting, especially with the rose-scented candle between us, though I don’t think that’s by accident. I finger the gold pattern on the tablecloth and sip my wine. It’s sweet, fruity, pleasant.
“You look stunning, I can’t keep my eyes off you,” he comments, smiling softly at me. “I’m so glad you agreed to come.”
“We shouldn’t be here though, not really. This is cheating… I feel like we aren’t learning any lessons.”
“Now that you’ve finished your steak, I want to talk, but I want you to listen and not jump to conclusions until I’ve finished.” He places his hand over mine when I look away. “Can you promise me that until I’ve finished you won’t walk away, run away, or interrupt me with conclusions?”
I hesitate, terrified of what he’s about to say next. “I’ll do my best.”
His thumb circles my palm and his tongue wets his pink lips. “Elizabeth and I have separated.” When I immediately try to pull my hand away, anger flaring through me, he grips it tighter and reminds me of my promise with a look. I relax and listen because I said I would, but I’m not sure I want to hear what he has to say anymore. “She’s not pregnant,” he rushes, “she never was.”
My jaw hits the floor. “WHAT? Oh my God… I’m so sorry.”
“She lied, she panicked, but truth be told I was sadly too relieved to be angry, and she saw that too. Though I still felt grief for the child I had started to warm up to the idea of, I knew that with it never existing might mean my life could take the course I wanted. The course I still want.”
Oh my God… she lied. “That’s cruel. Who does that?”
“A desperate woman in love with her shit husband,” he responds, pushing his hands through his hair, mussing it up in such a sexy way. “We talked about it and I forgive her for what she did though my family not so much understandably. My mother was very hurt and poor Maria who doesn’t understand at all.”
My breath hitches at that confession.
“I hurt her badly, she returned the favor and we opened up in ways we haven’t for years. I was finally honest with her about my feelings for you and our affair, and she was honest about the fake pregnancy and what she hoped to achieve. It turns out Elizabeth hoped to get pregnant when we returned to each other as a last-ditch effort to keep me, but I could not lie with her. I couldn’t be with her while feeling such love and devotion for you.”
“How did she convince you? Did you not attend her appointments?” I question, still reeling with shock.
“She doctored a sonogram. You can do many things with money.”
I shake my head and give him my most empathetic look. “I’m so sorry, Ezra.”
“Don’t be. Maria and I spent a lot of time together during the two weeks you did not hear from me and we both made peace with it. She knows we are separating, and though she’s sad, she still loves us both and Elizabeth and I agreed to put into motion legal joint custody. Effective immediately. So that neither can use our daughter as a weapon.”
“That’s a relief,” I say because that was the one thing that always worried me the most. “So you’ll get her…”
“We’re doing one week on and one week off as opposed to splitting weeks. And holidays we will either take turns or halve the day. It all depends on Maria.”
I sit back and blow out a heavy breath. “Poor Maria, but I’m happy you’ve all found a co-parenting method that works for you.”
His gray eyes flash with humor. “For now and hopefully forever.”
I sip my wine and he refills my glass when I place it back on the table. “How did she take your confession about me and you?”
“She was sad, and she’ll never forgive us but she’s more understanding of it now. She agreed that it’s best we separate; she doesn’t want to be married to a man who is so entirely consumed by another woman.”
“I’m not enjoying this talk,” I admit, sipping more wine. Though I love to hear how badly he craves me that he can’t touch even his wife, but it fills me with grief and shame. Something I need to work on.
“I know. But I need you to hear me. This isn’t a plea to get you back, I’m not going to ask you to return to me after what I did. But I am going to tell you that there is nobody else for me but you. I’m so very sure of that.”
I sip even more wine hoping there’s another bottle as we have finished this one between us.
“This isn’t about jumping into marriage and babies. This isn’t about not being able to be alone. This is me telling you that I’m sure. I am so sure about you I haven’t once wondered if this is right between us. It has only ever felt right.”
God… that’s so sweet.
“I don’t expect your forgiveness for what I did, I want the chance to build a new image of myself to erase the old one.”
“Is that even possible?”
“I hope so. You deserved better from me and I want to prove to you that I can be better.” He motions to my wrapped gift on the floor by our table. “Open it.”
After handing it to me, I move my empty plate to the side and gently peel back the paper, revealing a dark blue box with a lid. He takes the paper and tosses it on the floor. His teeth scrape his lower lip and his eyes are anxious.
I reveal a stunning crystal vase with a beautiful flowing rose pattern climbing up the sides. There’s a clear section, an oval an inch below the top of the narrow opening.
There’s an inscription in the middle, it reads:
Fill me with love
“I’m confused,” I murmur, turning it this way and that, letting it catch the light. It’s so very pretty.
“There’s more in the box.”
I place the vase carefully beside the box and pull out a small rose-shaped notebook that is nestled in the velvet beneath, no larger than my palm. Attached to the top of it is a rose-gold pen, also small, no larger than my finger.
“I’m sensing a rose theme here,” I say, giggling as I open the notebook and then flip through the blank pink pages. “But I really am confused. Not that I don’t love it.”
“It’s something I had made especially for you. Like I said, I don’t want to just get you back and pick up where we left off. I want to earn it. I want to call you every day, and email you, and take you on the most marvelous dates.”
“What does that have to do with…?” I trail my fingers over the glass, feeling the grooves of each rose.
He smiles brightly, showing his incredible teeth. “Well, this is my promise to you. That until that jar is full of all the reasons you love me, I’m not moving on, I’m not giving up on what we have.”
“Reasons I love you?”
“Every time something new occurs that makes you love me even more, I want you to write it down, fold it up, and put it in the jar.”
I blink slowly and take his hand again. “I already know that I love you.”
“But you still feel the pain of what I did to you. By the time you’ve filled this vase full of positive things that you love about me, you’ll have hopefully put that pain far behind you. I want to erase it. I’m going to erase it.” His eyes are determined, his words even more so. “Until then,
I’ll not ask you to return to me, I’ll not try and ease you into my bed.”
“What happens if it never fills.”
He lifts a shoulder, but I see sadness in his eyes. “Then I guess I’ll be single until I die.”
I roll my eyes, he can’t be serious, though he looks it. “What happens when it does?”
“That will be entirely up to you.”
Thoughtfully nodding, I unclip the pen from the notebook and write my first note:
He gives the best gifts. So thoughtful.
When I fold it and put it in the jar he leans over the table and kisses my hand. “I take it that you’re willing to give me time?”
“I don’t know, but I’d like to try and stay in touch now that you’re single.” I level him with a look. “But it’s going to be hard to trust you.”
“I can imagine, but I’m going to work for it. You’ll see. It’s only day one.”
“You’re the sweetest man I ever met,” I whisper, and then I write that down too and fold it up before dropping it into the glass. “And I love the way you look at me.”
I write that down and his smile becomes one of complete mischief. “I can’t take my eyes off you.” He chuckles when I write down another.
He says the sweetest things, in English and Italian.
“Would you like dessert now?” he asks, motioning to the small menu on the corner of the table as I place the vase back in the safety of the box and tuck the notepad into my small purse.
Becoming His Mistress Page 35