Good Intentions: Volume Two

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Good Intentions: Volume Two Page 1

by Ana Balen




  Good Intentions

  Volume two

  Ana Balen

  Ana Balen

  Good Intentions volume two

  Self-Published by Ana Balen

  Edited by: Sallyann Cole

  Cover design by: Veronique Poirier

  Formated by: Sallyann Cole

  Zagreb, 2019.

  Also by Ana Balen

  Wishing For A Star

  Good Intentions Volume One

  For Tracy

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are strictly the product of the author or used fictitiously. Any similarities between actual persons, living or dead, events, setting or locations are entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  Table of Contents

  Also by Ana Balen

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  Prologue

  “It’s a boy,” the nurse yells, her smiling face turns back up to us, her eyes going from mine to Claire’s. “Congratulations, Mommy and Daddy.”

  Daddy.

  I look to Claire’s red, sweaty face. “I’m a daddy,” I whisper.

  She doesn’t say anything just looks at me and gives me a small, tired smile.

  Leaning down to her, I grip her hand harder and kiss her forehead. “Thank you, doll.” Straightening back up and cupping her face with my other, I take a second and just live in this moment with her. I have to swallow down the lump in my throat before I can finish what I need to say. “Thank you for giving me what I never dared to dream for, but what I wanted and needed to become the luckiest man on Earth.”

  “Nick,” she whispers her tired eyes going soft.

  “Here he is,” the cheerful voice comes from the opposite side of the bed.

  I look up and am met with a tiny wail. It’s the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.

  I try to peer and get a look at my son’s face but all I can see is a blue knit cap and pink forehead.

  Seeing the nurse standing there, holding our son, she releases my hand and opens her arms to take him.

  “Open up your nightie first, dear,” I wonder if the nurse has that smile that had not left her face even for a second since we came in, permanently attached to her face.

  After Claire does as instructed, she takes a hold of our son, skin to skin, for the first time. “Hello, baby boy, hello.” She starts to coo momentarily between kissing his cheek.

  She was so nervous, so scared of if she’ll be a good mother. Running around the apartment the last two months, trying to get everything prepared, checking that all the stuff on her list to do and buy were done and bought. And when I finally got her to slow down, telling her that all that worrying couldn’t be good for the baby, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and said, “How am I going to be a mother? A good one, Nick? I’ve told you how my parents were. I only had nannies. The only time they gave me even the slightest attention was when I met some rich man.”

  Just the thought of her parents made my stomach churn and the need to tear something apart rose within me. But I couldn’t demand her not to see them. And sure, they didn’t come often. Still, those rare times were too many in my opinion and only the fact that I didn’t want Claire to be left alone with them, made me stay in my seat and suffer through.

  I hugged my wife, fighting my instincts to pack her up and take her somewhere where they couldn’t reach her, and whispered, “You’re going to be a great mom. Just the fact that you’re stressing and asking that question is indication enough of it.”

  “Oh, you’re just perfect,” Claire’s watery voice brings me back to present. Before I get to know my son for the first time, I whisper in my beautiful wife’s ear, just like I did then, “I told you’re going to be great. Look at you, you’re doing just what he needs. You love him from the start. Everything else, doll. That’ll come naturally.”

  She looks at me, her tears clinging to her lashes. I mouth, “I love you,” to her before I finally take a look.

  From the moment my eyes land on that pink, slightly wrinkled, tiny face I know for a fact there’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for him. There are no lengths I wouldn’t go for him. And there is nothing I wouldn’t endure for him.

  “Ben,” his name falls from my lips like a prayer.

  “Where’s my grandson?” Claire’s mom wails entering the hospital room. I’m incapable of tearing my eyes from Ben, so I only take hold of her hand, letting her know I’m here for her. That they couldn’t get to her.

  “And my nephew,” her brother walks in on his mother’s heels.

  Unfortunately, I still don’t look up from my boy. If I did, maybe I would see how Claire’s eyes darkened in sadness, or how she all but tried to fuse with the bed. Or how she looked up at me, seeking help, and for the first time, I failed her.

  Chapter One

  Nick

  Three years later

  “Sir, your wife is here.” The words Beth says are on the heels of the ones I never thought I would ever tell another woman in my life. The last time I told them to Claire, a week later I was thrown out of my bedroom.

  But I don’t have time to reflect on what just happened, or how right it felt. I pull out of Heather, zipping up my pants and watch her shaking hands as she shimmies down her pencil skirt, then her hands franticly go to her hair, trying to smooth the mess I made. All the while she’s looking down at the floor, not even glancing my way and stepping away from me, muttering, “Fuck, where are they?”

  I don’t know what she’s talking about, but I don’t have time find out now. As I come to stand in front of my desk, my finger ready to push the button to intercom, I don’t take my eyes from the woman I just told I love her.

  Knowing her, she’ll probably put it all down to the heat of the moment, the intense orgasm we gave each other. But I won’t allow it. I won’t allow her brain to pull her away from me. I know what I let it slip out. It’s the truth that was swimming inside me for a while now, screaming at me to tell her every time I look at her.

  It’s been maybe thirty seconds since Beth said Claire was here, still if feels like a year. I can see Heather pulling away with every step she takes away from me, looking at the floor. I can’t let that happen, so I call softly, “Pretty girl.” Her head shots up fast and she flinches a little, then her look turns to wonder as if she’s stunned that I would address her in this moment. That I’m still here with her.

  Goddammit, she’s a vision.

  Her breath still coming hard from the fucking I just gave her, her thick, blonde hair all over the place and falling down her back. Her blue eyes wide, that dazed look she gets every time I fuck her still present and her cheeks slightly pink. I don’t know if it’s still the afterglow or is it just that every time I look at her she looks more and more beautiful, but looking at her like this, her clothes still a disaster as I tried to rip them away from her body, her breath coming hard making her shirt strain at the buttons with every breath, her little waist that flares up at her hips, just right for my hands to squeeze them and pick her up and her legs that go forever, sh
e takes my breath away.

  “You ready?” I ask. Putting her through this encounter that looms in front of us is the last thing I want to do. I know she has questions about my marriage, doubts as why would I step over the line that’s drawn in the sand. But maybe seeing how Claire acts would give her a peace of mind. Maybe it would help the shadows that lurk in her eyes every time after we have sex, disappear.

  She doesn’t say anything, just bunches something in her hand and takes the papers she used as pretense to come to my office from the coffee table while she smoothes down her hair and shirt. With a deep breath, I watch as she shuts down right in front of my eyes and gives me a stiff nod of her head.

  “Send her in, Beth. Thank you.” I say after pushing the dreaded button, not taking my eyes from Heather who’s back at playing her game of ignoring me. “Hey,” I whisper trying to catch her eyes.

  She’s standing too far away from me, all the way across the office, right by the door. I want to go to her, take her in my arms, and wipe out this detached look and stiff posture that she has. I want to promise her everything will be alright. We will get through this and be together after.

  Just the two of us.

  But, I can’t.

  And I hate myself because of it.

  I can’t take my eyes off her. There are million scenarios running through my head, each giving me a different vision of my future. And they all include her.

  In a flash I’m lost in a fantasy.

  A fantasy that comes crashing down as soon as the door opens and a cold, almost bored voice comes, “Hello, my darling husband, how are you today?”

  I look at the woman that speaks these words. The words that are forcing my breath to catch in my lungs from sheer repulsion of hearing them.

  I run my eyes up and down her picture perfect representation. Standing close to Heather, it’s obvious she’s her polar opposite. There’s not a single hair out of its place on her head that two years ago, she cut into something she calls a bob. I used to love bunching her hair in my hand. I used to admire the softness of it. But as with everything she did, she took that away from me. There’s not a wrinkle in her clothes. Her brown eyes glimmer with ice, and her lips are stretched in unnatural position for them. A smile.

  I don’t even remember when she stopped smiling. I was sure if that ever happened, I would notice, as I would everything about her. But as she kept pushing me away, no matter my efforts to not let her, she finally got what she wanted, and I walked away. I stopped noticing things about her. I don’t know how I should feel about that fact anymore. I was heartbroken when it first happened, then over the months I became resentful. Now, in this very moment, faced with something I would miss in normal circumstances, I’m angry.

  Because I know what this is.

  She’s seen Heather standing in my office and like every time there’s someone in our proximity the show starts.

  A show of a doting and loving wife.

  She comes to me not even sparing Heather a single glance and tries to hug me.

  With no other choice I bend a little giving her arms access to my shoulders, and her lips to my cheek.

  “Hi Claire,” I quickly pull out of her reach. I can’t stand her hands on me, not right after I had Heather’s soft ones. Or the sharp sting of her perfume in my nostrils. Not after Heather’s flowery one, mixed with the scent of us. “What are you doing here?” This one I’m curious to know. She hasn’t come here since she gave birth to our son.

  Our son.

  Ben.

  As his name flashes in my mind, the sudden warmth to this woman rushes me, and I step back to her and give her a semi-hug.

  God, what the fuck is happening with me?

  “I came to take you to lunch,” she links her arm in mine like this is an everyday occurrence and finally turns towards Heather. “Oh, hello. I didn’t see you there,” got to give it to the woman, she always was a good actress. There’s no way in hell she didn’t spot her standing in here. Sticking to her performance, Claire puts her hand on my chest and leans her head my way.

  “That’s all, Heather,” I quickly put an end to Claire’s attempt of this charade and possibly shredding Heather to pieces in the process. I can only imagine how hard it must be to watch this. If the roles were reversed, I know I couldn’t control myself and would probably tear the guys hand off Heather. No one can touch her. No one, but me.

  She doesn’t say anything, just quickly glances from Claire to me, but in that second, I see she made her decision, and it’s not the one I like. Turning away, she opens the office doors and leaves without one last look or even saying one word.

  “What are you doing here, Claire?” I ask, stepping away from her. I have to get rid of her and do it quick, so I can go hunt Heather down, and explain everything. And make her stay with me.

  “Lovely girl,” Claire muses almost to herself, still watching the door. “Quiet, though. Not even saying hello to your bosses’ wife.” Her calculated look is aimed my way now.

  “What did you expect? You surprised her. Besides, you’re just a little bit frightening,” I try to make a joke, just to diminish the guessing that’s lurking in Claire. I know how she operates. If I give her just an inkling of suspicion, she’ll stop at nothing to find out everything there is to find out about Heather. “Now, why are you here?”

  “I told you, I’m here to take you to lunch.” Translation, she’s here to ask for money. Thank God, I secured my money in a separate account. The way she’s going, she would spend it all in a week.

  Still, not my brightest decision to give it to her every time she asks, but it gives me a little reprieve from her.

  “I can’t, I have that meeting at one that can’t be postponed,” And I do. I was hoping I will take Heather to lunch to celebrate after, maybe even get a room in a hotel. We’ve never been together outside my office walls. And even though it has its rush, sneaking like this, trying not to get caught, I want to give her everything. And I want the chance of having her in a bed. Just the thought of Heather in a bed makes my blood to heat and my cock to harden.

  “What are your plans for the weekend?” An idea comes to me in a flash; I could take Heather away for the weekend, just her and me with no danger of getting caught. We could be like any other normal couple out there. Enjoying a nice place and each other. Go to sleep together and wake up together.

  Just thinking about this brings a smile to my face.

  I can’t wait to tell her.

  I just need to get Claire to leave me alone.

  “I don’t know yet, why?” She asks after unclenching her jaw. Now why would my refusal to lunch set her off? She never had that reaction before.

  “I probably won’t be home for the weekend. There’s a new company that surfaced up, it’s rumored to be the great next thing and I want to see if it’s something that may interest me,” I come up with a lie in a flash. If I’m honest there probably is some new company that has a decent portfolio and could be actually successful, it only needs a big enough investor. There’s one every day. “I just wanted to make sure Ben’s handled.”

  “Oh, don’t worry. Even if I do decide to go somewhere, he’ll be fine.” She dismisses the question of our son as casually as if she is swatting a fly away.

  How is it possible that the woman who used to lose sleep worrying if she’ll be a good mother, or the one that started cooing to our son the moment she had him in her hands after she gave birth to him, no matter how tiered she was, showing him he’s loved from the second he was born, is now dismissing him like he’s nothing?

  She said her biggest fear was that she would be like her parents, letting nannies raise him. And she’s doing the exact same thing.

  I tried to talk to talk to her, I begged her to see hm. See me. See our family.

  But every time I did, she would either storm out in rage, or lock herself in a bathroom until I had Ben settled and quiet. Or until I went to sleep in another room.

  I’m tormenting mysel
f daily for giving in to Heather, for letting myself have just a little happiness, when only looking at Claire and how she acts is reason enough not to do it.

  I don’t have time for her games, I need to go and find Heather.

  Before she can start with her speech again, I ask, “How much?”

  “How much what?” The surprise on her face seems genuine, but I know her too well to fall for it.

  “How much money do you need this time?” I clarify even though it isn’t needed. I’m willing to dance a little, but I don’t have too much time for her games. I need to chase the woman who had my cock in her not even half an hour ago down and make her stay with me.

  “I…” She starts to say something, but I don’t need her bullshit explanations, I need her to go the fuck away.

  “Cut the crap, Claire. Just tell me how much money you want.” Hearing my words, and impatience in them, Claire looks to her right focusing on the painting of some lake that hangs on the wall and visibly swallows. Now, what the hell was that?

  She looks like the girl I met all those years ago, the one who disappeared when Ben was born. The one who, for a very short time made me happy, was someone I wanted to spend my life with and the one I missed with every cell in my body.

  The one I love.

  I’m losing my mind. One second I can barely stand the sight of my wife, the next my whole body vibrates for her.

  Before I have the chance to back paddle and ask her what is really going on, she squares her shoulders and obliterates any doubt in my previous assumptions of her needing me for only one thing by saying, “Fifty K this week.”

  *~*~*

  “Beth, where’s Heather?” I can’t find her anywhere. Claire was here for more than half an hour, even when I transferred the money right before her eyes to her account, she stayed in the office and surprised the shit out of me when she started talking about Ben. How he didn’t want to eat this morning after I left, and how he told her she needs to learn about his dinosaurs just like I did, so she could play with him. She even said she looked them up but could not for the life of her manage to remember them. Right as I was letting the surprise of the glimpse of someone I used to know fade and when I was getting comfortable and, fuck me, started hoping I would maybe on some level get her back, she squared her shoulders, the mask fell down over her face and with ice in her tone she said, “ I have to go. Eliza’s probably waiting for me.”

 

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