by KD Robichaux
“Yep,” she says, popping the P, and I can tell she’s fighting back tears. “I just don’t understand. He doesn’t even try to see them at all during the week, when he totally could if he wanted to. I’ve never once told him he couldn’t come get the girls and take them out to dinner or something, but he’s never even asked for the opportunity.”
“He doesn’t see the girls at all during the week? Just the one night on Saturday?” I knew that’s how it was when he was still living with his parents, but I thought for sure once he got his own place a few weeks ago that he would’ve been spending more time with them, since he now has the room.
“Nope, he works Monday through Friday, then Saturday afternoon he plays softball with his friends, so he picks the girls up after that and then drops them back at home Sunday after they have dinner.”
“Naekkeo, you know that’s fucked up, right? I know he has to work, but he also needs to spend more than twenty-four hours a week with his kids. I get my son every other week for the entire week, and that still doesn’t feel like enough. What the fuck is he thinking?”
“I know it’s fucked up. I know. I can remember my mom pointing it out over and over again when my dad did the same thing, and now that Mike’s ‘in love’ with someone else, I know this schedule isn’t going to change. I just pray it doesn’t get worse.”
“What do you mean?”
“My dad pulled this same shit when he and Mom got divorced. He married the woman he had been having an affair with, and then he stopped showing up to see me and Mia. Then eventually he forgot about us all together.”
Seeing the pain she’s desperately trying to hide, it takes all my strength to stay put on this side of the bar and not go to her to kiss her broken heart away.
“Thank God that Mom found Chaz, who totally put in a lot of work to earn our trust.” She smiles, even though tears are brimming her eyes. “I’ve got enough issues as it is. I can only imagine what I would’ve been like without Chaz showing us what a real man is like. I probably would’ve gone full doormat mode and not kicked Mike out when he admitted he was having an affair.”
I don’t try to argue with her. I’ve known plenty of women, and men, being in the military and deployed, who had done just that after finding out their spouse cheated. But I want to know more about Cece’s distant past. I want to absorb every ounce of information she’s willing to give me about herself, to help me understand more about the woman I love but can’t have.
“Do you ever talk to your dad?” I ask.
“No. I don’t know my half-siblings either.”
“He had more kids?” My jaw clenches, knowing where this is going. I already knew Cece had severe abandonment issues, but to add the feeling of being replaced would make it all the more painful.
“Two sons. I can remember him saying he always wished Mia and I were boys, so I’m sure he’s way happier with his other family.”
“Naekkeo, please tell me you know it’s him who’s missing out on being in your life. He’s the asshole who isn’t getting the opportunity to better his world by knowing you, your sister, your kids. It’s all his loss,” I implore, wanting so bad to take her in my arms, to hold her and rock her until she believes me.
“I know that. Truly, I do.” She rolls the final set of silverware and tosses it into the bin, sliding it across the bar for me to put it underneath the counter. “I’ve mostly gotten over my daddy issues. At least the anger part of it. I’ve gone through almost all those stages of grief, you know? Plus, when they finally got divorced, my mom became a way better mom, especially after we moved into the new place and she got with Chaz. Us girls got a dad who actually wanted us, who didn’t tell us at every opportunity that he wished we were boys. I just wish… maybe that it’d all happened sooner? When I was younger. My girls’ ages instead of when I was already a teenager. Then maybe I would’ve had a little bit more time to get over it, a little more time with Chaz, instead of running off and getting married to the first man who promised me forever.”
I can’t help it. She just looks so forlorn in this moment that I have to touch her. I reach across the bar and take her hand, telling myself I’d do the same thing if it were Steph, so I’m keeping my promise to Cece. “Well then, let that at least bring you a little peace—that your girls are going through this so young, and hopefully they will make it through everything without feeling the same urgency to fill a void their dad leaves.”
She squeezes my hand back, and the connection shoots straight to my heart. “That’s what I’m worried about though. If he keeps up only seeing them the one night a week, what if he backs that off like my dad did, and then history will repeat itself? I think that’s why I didn’t try to fight him on it when he told me no about the trip this weekend with my parents. Because at least he still wants to see them that one night.”
I nod, seeing her predicament. “There’s gotta be a happy medium though. You shouldn’t be the one always getting the shaft, always living in fear that either he’s going to stop wanting to spend time with them at all or take them away from you. He can’t have it both ways. I just don’t understand what he’s thinking, threatening to take full custody of the girls, when right now he’s choosing only to take responsibility for them for one night a week.”
“It all gives me whiplash,” she tells me, tugging her hand out of mine and using it to swipe her hair out of her face. “I’m constantly on edge—like I said, walking on eggshells and trying not to rock the boat. I’m just… ready for something to happen, I guess. I’d rather get this show on the road instead of living in this constant state of anxiety, waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
I give her what I hope is a reassuring smile. “Whichever way it falls, naekkeo, I’m here. I’ll always be right here to help in any way I can. You aren’t alone. Not only do you have your sister, and now your parents, but you have me, even if it’s not to the extent I know for a fact we both want. I’m in your corner.”
She nods, giving me a watery smile. “Thanks, Win.” She swallows audibly, blinking away tears. And I have to summon all my self-control to let her grab her purse and walk out the door with only a wave goodbye.
22
Cece
Cheating-Ass Motherfucker: We need to talk.
The text comes across my screen, and while the message itself gives me instant anxiety, I can’t help but chuckle at what Mia must’ve changed his name to when I was letting her use my phone early this morning to look at my work schedule for the rest of the week.
Since I have it set to give a preview of my texts on my lock screen, I hurry and change it back in case the girls ever see it sitting around.
Me: About what?
Mike: About the girls. About the divorce. About everything you’re asking for.
My gut clenches, my fight or flight instinct immediately heading in the flight direction. This confrontation is something I’ve been dreading since he came into my work last week.
Mike: Mia said something to me the other day when I picked up the girls, and I’ve thought a lot about it. There has to be a happy medium with all this, Cecilia. One that doesn’t hurt the girls. They need to be our top priority, and fighting will only hurt them.
Note to self: find out exactly what the hell Mia said to him.
Me: I totally agree. So how about you start by not trying to take them from me? That was completely awful of you, Mike. What did I ever do to you to deserve you threatening to take my babies from me?
Mike: I know. You’ve done nothing. And after talking to my lawyer and my parents, after cooling off after the shock of seeing that $ total you asked for in the papers, I realized how fucked up it was. I’m sorry.
My head jerks back as I read the last text. In our entire marriage, I don’t think Mike ever apologized to me once. Not even when he told me he cheated on me. It makes me wonder what his lawyer told him. They must’ve made him realize it would be pointless to try to get full custody. I’m not totally convinced this conversation i
s genuinely because he’s turned a new leaf. I bet it has more to do with the amount of money he would have to spend fighting me for the girls.
Either way, I’m just glad there’s some communication going on at all.
I want to bring up the fact that he only sees the girls once a week, so how would he have dealt with having them full time in the first place? But I decide to shelve anything that might start an argument.
Me: So what do you propose?
Mike: I’m not going to fight you for full custody. In return, I’m requesting you lower the amount you’re asking for alimony. I’ll still pay whatever child support deemed by the state, of course, and we can split what we make off the house when we sell it.
My brows rise at that. It’s actually a fairer offer than I thought he was going to come back with. In the original papers, I wanted to keep the house and asked for enough alimony to cover the mortgage. Now that I’ve actually warmed to the idea of a fresh start in a new place, this offer almost feels… better.
Not wanting to come across too eager, I reply simply.
Me: I’ll talk to my lawyer and let you know.
Mike: Fair enough.
And that’s the end of the conversation. I look up from where I’m sitting at a table during my dinner break and see Winston making a few drinks for an order. Why is it that he’s the first person I want to run and tell about this new turn of events?
I take my last bite of my loaded nachos and grab my plate and glass, passing Winston as I make my way to the door to the back, a shy smile pulling at my lips when he looks over at me and winks. God, how is it a simple little gesture like a wink can have me thinking the most erotic thoughts about the man?
It’s the memory of him making me come so easily, I’m sure. If that’d never happened, I wouldn’t know for a fact just how skilled he could be as a lover, and I only know the half of it. It only makes me want him more, having only had the taste.
I shake my head, trying to clear those thoughts, knowing they’re just so… wrong. He’s married, with no plans to try to divorce his wife anytime soon. I need to get over this hardcore crush, but I just don’t see how, working with him every day, him always being so wonderful.
Friends. We can only be friends.
When I clock back in after my break, I walk out to the bar and stop in my tracks. Winston’s wife is standing at the other end. I can’t hear exactly what she’s saying, because someone has put some music on the jukebox, but by the bitchy look on her face, and the way Winston’s shoulders are bunched, I can tell it’s not a pleasant conversation.
I immediately wonder where their son Nick is, since it’s her week to have him. Looking around, he’s nowhere in sight, and my mother instincts begin to worry. Which is silly. I’ve never even been officially introduced to the little guy, and they’ve been coparenting him their way for all these years. Why should I worry about him? But I can’t help it. When she leaves, I’ll put my concern at ease and just ask Winston.
Unlike Mike, Corina doesn’t seem to mind one bit about causing a scene, because right after I hear her screech the words “You just fucking wait, Winston!” she gets up from the stool she was sitting on and knocks it over loudly before storming out the door.
I glance at Win, seeing he’s gripping the bar top, his eyes closed as he seems to try to keep calm. In this moment, all I want to do is go up to him, wrap my arms around him, and comfort him the way he always does me when I’m feeling down. But I know I can’t. Instead, I hurry over to the stool Corina knocked over and stand it back up, scooting it under the lip of the bar to align with the others. He looks up at me from the other side of the bar, his expression unreadable because there are so many at once. Longing in his eyes, regret, tension, worry.
I step closer to him, asking for only his ears, “You okay?”
He looks down then nods. “I will be. Eventually.”
“Where’s Nick?” I ask him, and he meets my eyes.
“At her parents’ house.”
It’s none of my business, but the words come out anyway. “What did she want this time?”
“She tried to set something up with Talon Mayson about the house he’s building, but he wouldn’t take the meeting. She wanted me to put in a good word for her, and I tried explaining the Maysons don’t want any of her drama. What you saw was a normal Corina reaction to being told no,” he says, and I grimace.
“I’m sorry.” After a beat, I wonder aloud, “What in the world would she want to know about the house Talon is working on? Everyone knows it was broken into and the interior was destroyed. Is she trying to buy it?”
He shrugs. “I have no idea. I don’t really give a shit. She has her own house, a rather nice one, so I don’t get why she’d be asking about Talon’s.”
“I mean, when it’s finished, it’s supposed to be top of the line, state of the art everything, but we’re talking like… a ridiculous amount of money. I get why she’d want it, but does she have the means?” I ask, and then flush for being so intrusive. I shouldn’t be asking these kinds of questions about Winston’s wife. “Sorry. That’s none of my business. I… yeah, I’m sorry.”
He calls my name as I hurry away to check on my last two tables, but I don’t acknowledge him.
And I avoid him until we’re the last ones in the restaurant, putting the chairs up on the tables so we can clean the floors. I’m so embarrassed by my nosiness, the inability to think before I speak. It’s like I have no brain to mouth filter, dealing with other adults. It was bad enough when I told my sister’s boyfriend that he came by his hotness honestly when we first met. Now I’m asking the man I have feelings for if his wife is rich enough to buy a multimillion-dollar home? I’m mortified.
I’m putting the last chair up on the front-most table beneath the lit Closed sign, when I’m suddenly spun around by a searing hand on my bicep. And then my back is against the wall beneath one of my displayed wreaths, and I’m looking up at Winston’s intense face. His nostrils are flared, his eyes ablaze, his top lip slightly curled as he growls, “I can’t take this anymore, naekkeo.”
I swallow thickly. “Can’t take wh—”
“You promised. You promised you wouldn’t avoid me anymore. You said if I kept things platonic in front of everyone that you wouldn’t evade me, and I’ve kept my end of the bargain. And now you haven’t, not tonight. You can’t… you can’t keep you from me.”
“I’m—”
But I have no time to apologize. Not that I’d know what to say. Because his lips slam down on mine as he presses me harder against the wall. And I’m helpless to stop it. My arms come up around his neck, and as I feel his hands slide down my hips and under my ass, it’s instinct that has me wrapping my legs around him, feeling his steel-like cock behind the zipper of his jeans as he grinds into me.
Fuck, hadn’t I just been reminiscing about this only an hour ago? Haven’t I been fantasizing about reliving these very same feelings since the first time I ever felt them?
My hands slide up into his dark hair and grip tight as I take over the kiss, plunging my tongue into his mouth as my hips circle, the seam of my jeans working me into a frenzy. Our breaths saw heavily in and out as our kiss turns frantic, his grip tightening beneath my ass. Just as before, I feel the tightness coiling inside me, my core clenching, wanting something inside my pussy to bring me ecstasy.
I’m there… just a few grinding motions of my hips, and I’ll come, when a loud bang to our right makes me shriek I’m so startled. My heart races uncontrollably from both what I was just doing with Winston and also the shock of the sound, not knowing what the hell it was. My feet meet the floor, and Win backs up a few steps, looking toward the window.
Had someone seen us?
“Is there someone out there?” I whisper, my hand against the center of my chest as I stay with my back pressed against the wall.
Surely no one could see us unless they were right up against the window, and we would’ve seen them, right?
You wouldn’t have seen shit with your eyes closed while dry humping your married fucking boss again, the voice inside me accuses.
“I don’t see anyone. There aren’t any cars left in the parking lot,” he says, his hands against the window as he looks in each direction. “Maybe it was a car backfiring as someone drove by.”
Before I realize I’ve even moved, I bump into a table halfway to the bar. Winston turns, his eyes meeting mine. And it’s in that moment I know, I just fucking know, I can’t do this anymore.
I can’t pretend I can be his friend.
I can’t pretend I can be around him every single day and my feelings for him won’t grow.
Shit like tonight is going to happen over and over again until we finally snap and my morals fly out the door, and I’ll be the one having an affair with a married man. I can’t allow that. I can’t let myself become the very thing in this world I despise most of all.
“Please, naekkeo,” he whispers, taking a step toward me with his hand reached out.
I shake my head, sidestepping around the table and backing up another step. “I can’t, Winston. I can’t do this anymore. I want you far too badly, and I can’t do this. Not while you’re still married.” A tear slides down my cheek.
“Cece, please, baby. I love you, so damn much. I need to be with you, but I don’t know how to fix it so we can be together.” His hands shoot into his hair, gripping, his expression breaking my heart. I feel it in my soul. It’s the same pain I feel being unable to act on my feelings for him. “We… we can keep us a secret.” I hear the desperation in his voice, like he knows what he’s saying is fucked up, but he can’t help but let the words rush out. “We can act like we’re just friends in front of everyone, but at least we will know we’re together, and then I can have you. Please.”
My heart shatters inside my chest, not only for him but for me as well. He’s stuck. He’s absolutely stuck, with no way out of his situation without losing everything. But that doesn’t change the fact that he would lose everything if we were to get caught. And I can’t do that to him. I love him enough to let him go, so he doesn’t lose everything he’s worked so hard for to a woman like Corina. To anyone, really. I love him too much to see his dreams turn to dust.