by A E Gamrat
God, my mailman is like in his early thirties, if that. He'd probably think I’m being all Mrs. Robinson for him. Wonder if he would know what “Mrs. Robinson” even means.
“Your smile is what drew me in all those years ago. I wanted to see that smile every chance I could, whether I was the one putting it there or not.” He’s still gripping the wall, and now I'm leaning up against the door opposite him. His words, his voice, and the way his eyes see into my soul make my knees instantly weak. “I know it’s not me putting it there right now, and, in that dress, I’m not sure how I feel about it.”
“No, definitely not you.” He visibly cringes at my honesty. “Thinking about if my young mailman was at my door right now, whether he would understood what ‘Mrs. Robinson’ implied.” My laughter at admitting this out loud is boisterous, and at the same time, I swear I hear my doorframe crack under his grip.
“Don’t,” he growls, and I laugh harder. No way am I going to feel guilty, and his alpha side is spurring me on to push him more.
“I’m not sure what you are don’t-ing,” I say in a sweetly high voice, moving my hips a tad to get the dress moving. He plays right into my game, his eyes hitting my hips at my slight movement. “And you still haven’t told me why you are here.”
“I’m a stupid, stupid man.” His tone is still rough and low.
‘You came to tell me you are a stupid man? Think I could’ve come up with that myself.” Where is this confidence coming from? Hours ago, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry over his lack of communication. He's here now, remorseful, and I want to show that I am not broken, show him what kind of woman I can be for him.
The second I opened the door to find him on the other side, I knew I would forgive him. He’d need to voice his wrongdoings, but I believe this is a big mistake. Our souls have touched; the regret I can feel in my bones, and his ache makes my heart ache.
“I’m pretty sure that’s why you sent me that picture, showing me what a stupid man I am.” A hint of a smile flashes across his face for a beat but won’t come out to play yet. “I didn’t expect to see it in person.” He winks, and I roll my eyes.
“If I didn’t want to live in this dress, you wouldn’t have. Come on in; there’s no need to stand out there all night long. Unless you think you deserve it.”
“Oh, I deserve it, but I’m not screwing up the chance to come in.” His steps are confident walking inside, but his pulse is giving away his anxiety. My hands itch to lay across his throat and feel his heartbeat, to take in how fast it is pumping and soothe it with only my touch.
Silver stands again in my living room, filling up the room with his towering form. My buzz is completely gone, but the symptoms seem to be coming back. Nervous? No, but overly excited to be near him again. I keep my stance loose and my shoulders square. I’m not ready to show all of my cards, when we still haven’t talked about the elephant in the room.
“Would you like something to drink?” My mother’s manners always show no matter the mood. It would be rude not to offer a drink even though I should be mad at him. She would be so proud.
“No, let’s sit and talk,” he says, taking the few steps to my couch and sitting down. Lightly he pats the cushion next to him, his plea for me to sit with him in his eyes. He still doesn’t truly know how I'm feeling or the outcome and is using his eyes as leverage. He knows I can’t say no to his eyes, my ultimate weakness.
My bum hits my cushion, and our knees touch. Never in a million years did I ever believe I could be comfortable with a man so quickly. This relationship between Silver and me had barely begun, and I've been touched by him more in a handful of days and weeks than months with my ex. It's so pathetic how long I dragged myself along to make that idiot happy. My ex would also never apologize to me face to face and with words.
Silver grabs my hand, threading our fingers together, and placing them on our touching knees. “I wish I didn’t have a sappy answer for you, but that’s all I have.”
“Okay.” I stare at him, feeling our fingers flexing together and the warmth traveling up our arms. I’m not sure what to say; that wasn’t what I was expecting him to say.
“Let me start off with saying my mother is crazy, and this party thing was a last-minute idea. She never asks for help, and with work and you, I keep forgetting about it.”
“I don’t want…” I try to chime in, but he puts his other finger up against my lips, keeping me silent.
“You will not apologize for being in the way. I know you enough, so just don’t. When I hear your voice and/or see you, all thoughts fly right away.” He looks away from us, acting like he can see his thoughts floating away. It’s kind of cute, actually and has me looking where he is like I can see them too. “I was not going to come out of this looking good no matter what because if it weren’t for your parents, I would’ve asked you last minute, and you would’ve been mad about that.”
I've never been so mad and so amused at the same time. Honesty might be rough at times, but Silver’s honesty makes me smile. He is so totally right, and I would’ve been madder with the second option than this one. I'm a woman; I need time to get ready, figure out what I would wear, and need some pep talks from my friends. Which all happened now since my mother told me today. “Yes, this is very true. I have an outfit now and time to prepare.”
“You don’t need to prepare, baby.” He glides the back of his hand down my cheek. “You can go the way you are.” His eyes glide down my body. “Well, on any other day and still shine like the brightest star. This dress is so much.” He’s talking to my amazing cleavage I'm rockin’, so I stick them out a little more. “I…I…never imagined you owning something so…so…”
“Scandalous?”
“Scandalous, indecent, naughty.”
“Not sure these words are helping my confidence.”
“Please,” he scoffs, “those words should be making you bolder, sexier-feeling because I want to keep you all to myself in that dress. No one should see you in that thing but me.” His words drill a hole right through my heart, and his eyes sew it back up with pieces of himself. Every second we are in each other’s presence, more and more pieces of each other blend together.
I keep our bodies separate because I need to say my words too. I can’t forgive him so easily without saying my peace. I inhale a deep breath and let it out. “I understand forgetting and it being last minute, but I won’t stand for this happening all the time. My ex kept me in the dark with everything. Yes, most of it I let happen, but looking back, I was so dumb and will not be put in that position again.”
“Gin,” he whispers, trying to lean in closer to me, but my hand stops him.
“You don’t need to do all that, but you need to know. When I left him, I told myself never again, and I was serious. Do I think you would be like him? No, but our expectations need to be voiced so one side doesn’t get snowballed by the other.”
“Sounds so clinical. Should we write down our needs and wants and then hand them off?”
“You making fun of me?”
“Absolutely, but only because you’re as cute as a button. You really have always been in charge, haven’t you?”
“It’s how women in our society grow up to be. My parents might have an awesome rock-solid relationship, but that doesn’t mean my mom didn’t run the house, and dad worked and would help out when he could. We are groomed to take care of our families, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.”
“Sounds so medieval and sexist.”
“Sure, yes, but if you have a good partner you don’t notice it. My dad praised my mom. When she changed something, and I mean anything, he noticed and commented on it.”
“Even haircuts.”
I squeeze his hand in mine extra tight at his mocking ways. “Yes, especially haircuts. But most don’t live like my family did. I didn’t have friends, only girls I went to school with. There was no one I could trust, and when I met Louis I thought that was going to change. Early on I knew
my mistake but couldn’t get out.” He raises his eyebrows at my easy answer. ”Fine, I didn’t want to get out. I thought things would get better. We had little kids; I appeased at every turn; how could we not turn out fine?”
Silver leans back into the couch, taking our hands with him. They lay over his beating heart, and I can feel every pulse, every pump of blood running through this man…my man. “We were getting ready to separate when she received her blood work results. At one point she even told me to leave, but how could it? We might not have been in love, but I loved her and my daughter.”
“You are a good man, Silver. I've known that since the first time you crossed my path.”
“Sometimes I wonder if I really am though. We should’ve never gotten together, really. I was crushed over finding out about your marriage, and her ex put her through the ringer, so it sort of made sense, I guess.”
“Well, of course it does; you two needed each other to survive. Ideal situation, no, but what truly is an ideal situation?”
“Me finding you before that ass did and keeping you all for myself.”
Blush coats my cheeks at his raw, truthful words. What we could have been if we didn’t worry about other people other than ourselves?
“But then you wouldn’t have your daughter.” Even that truth stings a little in my gut. I would have been proud to carry and birth his kids.
“She’s amazing; you would love her. She was the one to sit us down and express her worries about us still being together. She handled the disease like a champ and held her mom’s hand every step of the way. Then would look at me like I could make it all better and to tell me she was never leaving no matter what.”
Tears spring up out of nowhere, and one lets go. He swipes at it with his thumb while smiling nice and big at me. “You must use that story on all the ladies.”
Instead of being mad at my poorly timed joke, Silver smiles wider and kisses me where my nose meets my cheek. “I would never do that,” he whispers. “I want you to know me, the real me, not the one the outsiders know. Pretty sure I’ve never used a line on a girl before, and I’m definitely not starting with you.”
He begins to pepper my face with kisses, making me giggle like a schoolgirl flirting with her first crush. Guess some of these feelings are warranted since he was and will always be my first crush. If the young me could see me now, she would be so impressed. That forbidden kiss that night was the most outrageous act I ever did for myself. Toeing the line was my life motto. Never completely on the line and never far away from it either.
The kisses continue, and every time I try to get my lips involved, Silver pulls away or directs his attention elsewhere. Every kiss is an apology for his misstep, leaving us apart for so long, and hope for the future.
“Silver,” I whimper, and I feel his laughter against my temple. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s loving every second of it.
“Gin…” If it weren’t for his heavy breathing, I wouldn’t think any of this was affecting him. Always the cool, confident one, Silver seems to take life in stride.
I couldn’t imagine watching my partner die. He says their relationship wasn’t strong, but the way his talks about Tanya, he did love her in his own way. Can you be jealous of the dead and not feel like shit about it? His poor daughter, losing her mother so young and so fast…I can’t grasp what she must feel like without her mom anymore.
I’m a woman of age who still calls her mother daily to talk and make sure her parents are good. Well, it's more like texting and talking on social media. My parents ate up all the new technology as soon as it started coming out and getting better. They do and know way more about the social world than I. MaryAnn laughs with them over my lack of knowledge, and Lou worries someone is going to scam them.
I want to take care of both Silver and his daughter. They deserve a good strong woman in their lives, and I'm just the woman for the job. Wonder if MaryAnn and Lou would like another sibling? Lou will not be thrilled having to look out for another woman in his life. He would do it, no questions asked, but would moan and groan about it. I can picture it now, all of us together, though I’ve yet to meet his daughter.
Silver’s kisses are gone, which brings me back to present time. He's sitting back away from me now with a blank look on his face. “It’s okay, Sil; it’s a lesson learned, right?”
He scrubs his hand over his face, frustrated, and I'm wondering why we stopped kissing. This relationship is a second chance for me too, and I’m going about it in a completely different light. I'm still scared shitless; he might not like the new Gin, but so be it. I scaled a mountain all by myself before; I can do it again. Some might think I'm stupid for accepting his apology so quickly, but life is short. If it continues, then my forgiving ways will close up.
“You shouldn’t be so forgiving.”
“If we own our faults and apologize face to face, I can be forgiving as much as I want to be. Doesn't mean I'll always be willing, but honesty is always the best policy.”
Silver chuckles, and I lean into him this time. “I sound like a mother, don’t I?”
“Well, you are one.”
“I don’t want to be your mother.”
“I don’t want you to be my mother either.”
We both bust out laughing, and I lay my head on his chest. His strong arms wrap around me, and we lie together, our breaths matching one another, and his fingers glide up and down my arms. We argue; we bicker; we make fun of each other, and always end up in each other’s arms.
The longer we sit quietly together, the more and more my mind starts to wander. What will life for us look like next, a month from now, and will we make it to forever? Always being in control has my mind two steps ahead of the game. Ready for the next turn or bump in the road. Silver and I will be the ultimate test, and my mind can’t take it.
“Do you think our kids will like each other?”
As soon as the question is out, Silver’s arm tightens more. Did I ask the wrong question? I think it’s a very valid one. The kids might be adults, but all of us getting along would make this new us easier to handle. I would hate for one of them not to like the other and put a strain on every occasion and outing.
Divorce meant freedom and living my life on my terms. I was ready for a few one-night stands or no-strings-attached fun. My kids were never a thought because I wanted nothing serious. Now I sit here, worried no one will get along, costing Silver and me our newborn relationship.
“Not sure how Lou feels about me.” It’s my turn to laugh out loud because he’s so right about that. Liking the man trying to feel up your mom is not how Lou rolls. Silver will have some ass-kissing to do with that one. “But I think the girls will get along. Everyone is grown doing their own things; I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“Oh, how you don’t know me.” I shake my head at his nonsense but want to believe every word he says. “All I do is worry and wonder about the future.”
“Were you always like this?”
“Honestly,” I lean back and turn toward him. “On some level, yes, but I wanted a happy house like the one I grew up in. I took care of everything, trying to keep that ass happy. At times I thought it was working, but he would get mad about something…”
His growl shocks me into silence. Never knew a man could make a sound like that. His eyes look murderous, and I sit very still. “He. Verbally. Abused. You.” Each word drips with venom, and his fists ball together. I lean back to give him some room, and he stops me with “Don’t. I would never.”
“I know,” I whisper, not wanting to agitate the situation more. “Just want to give you some room. Never really thought of it like that.” I shrug. “Guess I was, probably why I stayed so long.”
Silver is up and pacing around my living room. If this were Louis, I would wait him out very quietly. That thought alone makes me sad; I really was abused mentally and never noticed. This is not Louis, though, and after a beat, I stand up and walk slowly toward him. My steps are st
ill cautious because he is a man and a very upset one at that.
Once I'm in his line of sight, his fists go to his hips, and he tries to take a few deep breaths. The breathing is not working, but it’s pretty damn cute how much he is trying to calm down for me. “I don’t want to scare you, but fuck…I would rip him apart. All that time…” He’s back to pacing, but now it’s in an arc form on one side of me.
“Listen,” I try to grab for him, but he pulls away, “don’t do that. No, it wasn’t ideal, but I survived. Never for one minute was I scared of him or ever thought he would hit me. Degrading, he was, yes, all the time, but unfortunately in the elite world men don’t treat their wives with utmost respect.”
“Never,” he bites out.
“I know, but I had my kids right away, so it was the three of us against him. He's the best father to them, and that’s all I ever asked for. The day I said ‘I do,’ I thought that was that. Divorce doesn’t happen in our world.”
Some of his anger leaves his shoulders at my exposed truths. “But you got out.”
“Yes, I got out, years too late, but I got out. To this day he still thinks I'm an idiot for leaving. I walked in on him fucking another woman when he wouldn’t fuck me; what was I supposed to do? Turn a blind eye and walk away?”
“Never, you shouldn’t have.”
“I know, but I did, and survived like you did. We are survivors, and I'm damn proud of that. If I would’ve taken a different path, I wouldn’t have Anne and Claire, the bookstore and this amazing house. We might never had run into each other again. I'm not regretting one minute of it.”
Silver’s on me before another word leaves my mouth. He's all-consuming, crushing his mouth to mine, lifting me up so my feet no longer touch the ground. We've shared a few different kisses so far, but this one is by far the wildest. Silver is in control, and I’m helpless to only follow and give him what he wants.
