Break Even

by Lisa De Jong

  “Who?” I ask, handing her the sorted stacks.

  She raises her brow, and I realize she’s talking about Cole. Truth is, Cole and River have been teeter-tottering every time I let myself go there. Cole should have more space, but I can’t let go of River.

  “No,” I reply, smiling sadly. “Do you happen to know when he gets back? He originally said Wednesday, but I didn’t know if that had changed.”

  “He gets in tonight around dinner time if I remember correctly.”

  “Has he called at all?” I ask, tapping my fingertips against her desk.

  She shakes her head. That in itself is odd because we use Beatrice for just about everything we need.

  “Maybe I’ll send him a message just to make sure he’s okay,” I say as I pick up my coffee cup from her desk and walk toward my office. I set everything down, realizing Beatrice straightened the mess Cole made the other day. I look out my door to tell her thank you, but she’s not there.

  Instead, I spend ten minutes typing out a text to Cole. There’s so much I want to say, but it doesn’t sound right.

  Marley: Are you still planning on coming back today? I want to talk.

  For at least another ten minutes, I stare down at the screen wondering if he’ll reply. Nothing.

  I pick the top file from the stack, needing to immerse myself in something other than my relationship problems. It happens to be the Wells case—the one I was told to stay out of. The one that caught my attention after only a few pages the last time I held it in my hands. With everything that’s happened, I’d forgotten about it.

  Flipping past the contract, I continue where I left off the other day as I take a few sips of my coffee. But after only a few sentences, I can’t even swallow as I touch the base of my neck. I read the words once then blink, hoping that they’ll somehow change when I read them over again. The room is too hot as I read my name over and over. My mind races, searching for answers that I don’t have—the file only drawing more questions. Then, all my thoughts momentarily freeze as I stare blankly at the wall.

  Nothing makes sense. I’m too paralyzed to cry, to scream, or even contemplate what the hell I just read. It’s dated eleven days ago when Cole and I were at the cabin. Is this what he was working on that Saturday while I waited for him? And how could he know? I didn’t even know.

  My phone buzzes.

  Cole: I’ll be home around 7:00. And yes, we need to talk.

  Yes, we do.

  I did something I haven’t done in a long time; I cooked dinner. I set the table just before seven and sat down waiting for Cole to walk in. I even went as far as to put on one of my little black cocktail dresses I usually reserve for dinners out and let my hair down. Tonight won’t be easy, but I’m going to dress the part of an apologetic wife.

  Five minutes after seven, I hear the sound of the garage door opening. I bring my wine glass to my lips, taking in a few more sips of liquid courage. The door opens, and I hear him place his briefcase on the counter. “Marley!” he shouts.

  “I’m in the dining room,” I answer, pouring myself more wine. I fill his glass, too.

  He walks in, his hands tucked into his black suit pockets. I expected him to look worn, but he looks normal—handsome, courtroom-ready Cole. “What’s this?” he asks, glancing between the set table and my fancy appearance.

  “I thought we could talk over dinner. I made your favorite: chicken cordon bleu with a side of rice.”

  The hint of a smile plays on his lips. “You cooked?”

  I shrug. “I guess I did.” My voice is meek, but it’s enough to bring him to the table.

  He leans in to kiss my cheek. “You look beautiful.”

  I force a smile. “Thank you.”

  As he takes his seat, I bite into my chicken. My nerves are so out of whack I can barely chew, let alone swallow. Cole seems to be struggling less as he glances over at me between bites.

  “I had some time to think while I was away,” he announces, after a few minutes of silence.

  “And?” I ask, letting my fork fall to my plate. I’m done pretending.

  He wipes his mouth, then takes a sip of wine before looking into my eyes. “What happened on Monday … I can’t just forget about it.”

  “I don’t expect you to.”

  “But I also realize that I had a part in it,” he says, reaching for my hand. The feel of his skin against mine causes me to cringe inside. It doesn’t belong … not now. Not anymore.

  “So what do you want?” I ask, confused.

  He leans across the table. “I don’t even know. When I left Monday, I honestly didn’t think I’d ever be able to look at you again, but I’m having a really hard time letting you go. Maybe we owe each other a second chance. It won’t be easy for me knowing you’ve been with another man, but I think we should try.”

  With everything I know now, I’m shocked. So shocked that I have myself believing that maybe part of what happened over the last week must be a dream. One horrible fucking dream.

  “What do you expect from me, Cole?”

  He looks to the ceiling then back to me. “I need to be able to trust you again. This,” he says, looking down at the table, “this is nice. And I need you to act like my wife if you actually want to be my wife. When we’re done here, I want to erase him. I can’t stand the thought of it, Marley. I can’t stand the thought of him inside of you.”

  My body tenses. Up until about a week and a half ago, I was playing the part of a dutiful wife. Asking me to act like his wife doesn’t make sense, but that shouldn’t be a problem after he lays his eyes on dessert. “So you’re just going to forget?”

  “No.” He shakes his head. “But I’m not going to let you forget either. If you want me, and if you want a baby, you’re going to be the wife I need. You’re a smart woman; you hold the same degree as I have, but until I gain some trust, I get to call the shots.” He drinks from his glass as we stare it out across the table. “The first thing I need you to do is sign over your half of the firm to me.”

  “What the fuck, Cole?” I throw my arms in the air.

  “What? You’re not planning on staying at the firm after you have a baby, are you?”

  “Yes, I’m staying. We both know I’d go crazy if I were a stay-at-home mom.” My head spins. I know more than he thinks, which just means this makes even less sense.

  I throw my napkin down and don’t bother looking at him before I walk out of the dining room. This little charade has gone on long enough. After taking a few seconds to catch my breath, I pull the silver dessert tray from the cabinet and carry it into the dining room. My heart has never beat this fast.

  I hold the tray out to Cole, waiting for him to lift the lid. “What did you make?” he asks.

  “I thought I’d try something different for dessert.”

  He grins. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises.” I watch intently as he lifts the lid, his face paling as he stares at his dessert.

  “Where did you find those?”

  I drop the tray on the table, letting papers fly everywhere. It doesn’t matter; I have enough copies to share with all of Miami if I need them.

  “On your desk last week. I didn’t have a chance to read through it all until earlier today. It’s really quite interesting, wouldn’t you say?”

  He starts picking up the papers from the table and floor. He’s stupid if he thinks he can hide them now. “I can explain.”

  “Do try. I’d love to know how divorce papers citing my infidelity wound up on your desk before I even committed adultery. Were you sitting around with these just waiting for me to slip up?”

  His fingers comb through his thick, dark hair. “You weren’t supposed to find them.”

  “Oh, you think?” I scream, pacing across the dining room. “I’ve been sick to my stomach the last few days thinking about what I did to you, and here I made the right decision to begin with. Why, Cole? Why would you do this?”

  “Our marriage has been falling apart
for a long time. It was going to happen sooner or later, and when it did, I was going to be the first to file. I don’t like to lose.”

  I slap him hard across the face. His hand covers his wounded cheek. It’s all I’ve wanted to do since I went through the file earlier. “Fuck you! Fuck you!”

  Storming off to the bedroom, I throw a few things into my overnight bag. I booked a hotel before I even left the office this afternoon. I knew that there wasn’t going to be any good excuse for what was in that file. If money is so important to him, he can have the house too. I didn’t grow up with a lot, and I don’t need any of this stuff. It means absolutely nothing at the end of the day.

  And I’m done crying over him. He doesn’t deserve my tears.

  “Marley,” he says softly from behind me, startling me. “Are you going to let me finish?”

  “There’s nothing left that you can say. Eleven years, and this is how you want to end things, Cole? Well, congratulations, because you’re getting what you wanted.” My blood boils. I literally put everything I had into us all these years. Everything.

  “You made a huge mistake last weekend so don’t act like you’re so fucking innocent. This was my mistake. I think that makes us even!” he yells back. He’s right, but the damage he’s done can’t be repaired. He lied. And he did it in the worst possible way. He tried to break me, and he succeeded. The chances of me ever trusting another man again are slim.

  “You’ve had your last two chances. I gave you more than I should have, but at the lake—after what happened that Saturday—I told myself I’d give you one more. I know I made a mistake—a huge mistake—but there are no words for this.”

  I walk past him to the bathroom, grabbing my small bag of toiletries from the cupboard. After one last look around the bedroom, I zip up my bag and throw it over my shoulder.

  Cole stands against the wall, watching me. There’s nothing he can do, and I think he knows it. I stroll past him to the kitchen to grab my car keys from the counter. Before I walk out, I turn back around, looking him straight in the eye. “Why, Cole? Why were you even trying if this is how it was going to end?”

  An evil grin spreads across his face. “Because I don’t have the pictures yet.”

  “What pictures?” I ask, shaking my head.

  “Ask River, and while you’re at it, why don’t you ask him how much I paid him to fuck you,” he says, pausing to let it sink in. His words hit me like a bullet to the chest. “Oh, and when you ask him about the pictures, can you ask him to send me my copies? I’m going to need them for evidence.”

  I’ve never felt a chill quite this cold. There are so many more things I’d like to say, but my energy would be better saved for someone besides my scumbag husband. After so many years, I really thought I knew him, but maybe I never did. My stomach tingles. My mouth goes dry, a giant lump lodging itself in my throat. It makes me sick thinking that someone I’ve loved for so long could tell me all this without an ounce of guilt. Eleven fucking years, and this is how much what we had meant to him.

  And River. Cole’s words play as the memories of everything River and I have done run through my mind. Was it all really a lie? His words. His kiss. The emotion he showed when he left my office Monday.

  I slam the door behind me, hoping I never have to see him again. Hoping I never lay eyes on either of them again.

  AFTER I DRIVE A FEW BLOCKS from my house, I finally pull over where I know Cole can’t see my car lights, not that I think he cares enough to watch me drive away. I heard every word he said before I left.

  I slam my palms against the steering wheel as I think of everything I did with River. Even when he was an asshole, I felt as if he was a genuine asshole.

  This past weekend—Monday, it all seemed so real. The way he touched me, the things he said to me and our goodbye … it all seemed so fucking real. I knew he was a player, but I never imagined this was the way he was playing me. If this was all a game to him, I lost big time.

  Thinking clearly when I’m upset is like driving sixty miles an hour through dense fog, which is probably why I head toward River’s club when I put my car back in drive. I might as well tell the whole world to fuck off tonight.

  I don’t have a job.

  I don’t have a place to call home.

  I don’t have a marriage or any hope for one.

  I don’t have my sanity.

  And River Holtz. I haven’t decided how I’m going to deal with him. He made me believe in something that may have been a lie all along. Romance is nothing but bullshit and lies. Love is a figment of the imagination that only the naïve believe in. Fuck love.

  When the valet takes my keys, I’m not even sure if River is here, or what I’ll say to him if he is. For all I know, Cole is just filling me full of bullshit lies to hurt me more than he already has. If I really want the truth, I’m going to hear it for myself.

  The guy working the line gestures me to the back, but I notice the same bouncer who was here before stands in front of the door. The one who made sure I got home safely after I was attacked outside the restroom.

  “Excuse me,” I say, rushing over to him before anyone can grab me.

  He looks up for a split second then briefly to his phone before his eyes connect with mine again. “What do you want?”

  Pointing at the door, I say, “I’m a friend of Mr. Holtz. Do you remember me? I need to get inside.”

  He eyes me for a few seconds before mumbling something into his mouthpiece. He nods, then pulls the door open for me. “Have a good night.”

  If he only knew, I think as I walk in. The music pumps as I veer straight toward the steps that lead to the VIP area. I hold my breath as I wind up the stairs, hoping that with any luck River is here.

  It’s more crowded than last time. Pushing through the swarm of people, I slowly make my way to the leather sectionals that frame the balcony overlooking the dance floor. At first glance, I don’t see him. Just as I’m about to turn around and leave, I hear his voice. His hand presses to my stomach, pulling me to his chest as his warm breath hits the back of my neck. I can’t hear what he’s saying, but it’s definitely him. I’d know that body anywhere.

  Relaxing into his familiar touch, I almost forget why I’m here. Revenge won’t come easily if we stay like this. “Can we go somewhere quiet?” I try to yell over the music.

  His lips brush my neck. “Trying to make sure I don’t forget about you?” he says, his mouth a whisper from my ear.

  “River!” I scream it even louder this time, or at least it feels like I do.

  He walks us forward. The crowd clears easier with him leading the way. As soon as we make it to the narrow hall that leads to his office stairs, he wraps his hand around mine and propels us forward quickly. I don’t think much about what I’ll do once we get there. Now, I have mere seconds to decide how I’m going to play the player.

  As soon as we’re inside, he pushes the door closed and pins me to the wall with his body. “Did you miss me?” he asks, kissing along my jawline as his arms frame my face.

  I close my eyes. His touch, his scent—they’re like magic wands that turn off all the waves that lead to my brain. My fingers curl in his hair as he continues to assault me with his lips. This isn’t how I planned it on the way up, but now that we’re here my agenda isn’t the same.

  “Fuck me, River,” I breathe, needing to feel something. Real or not, I need to feel him. Anything to wash away the pain, even if it’s only temporary.

  “Jesus, Marley. Are you trying to kill me?”

  I wrap my legs around his waist, letting him carry me across the room. He sets me on the edge of his large mahogany desk, wasting no time before pushing up my skirt. “I need you,” I moan, feeling him hard against my leg.

  “What do you want?” he whispers against my ear. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

  ‘I want your cock inside of me. I want you to fuck me until I can’t feel anything but you.”

  “Are you sure you’re
real?” He kisses down my chest, pulling my strapless dress below my breasts. He sucks one nipple, tugging it between his teeth as he pulls away then turns his attention to the other.

  “Now, please,” I beg, working the zipper on his jeans. I’ve never met a man who could rock jeans and dress slacks like River Holtz, dark and dangerous in both. I free him from his boxer briefs and hold him in my hand. “I missed this.”

  “I missed you,” he says quietly, opening his desk drawer. “God, I missed you.”

  I pull the condom from between his fingers, ripping the package as fast as I can with my shaky fingers. River is my addiction, and whether he’s good or bad for me, it doesn’t matter. I need him. I need to feel wanted, even if it comes with a price.

  As I roll it on, I look up into his hooded eyes. If Cole’s words hadn’t tainted my thoughts, I’d swear I see something else. A yearning—something deeper than the physical attraction I’ve always felt with River. I grab him in my hand, slowly guiding him inside me. He fills me, showing me a bit of heaven I’ve been missing. Heaven and hell—that’s what he promised me. Hell is knowing he did all this for money. He was paid to show me how good it felt to be fucked—how it felt to have all of one man’s attention.

  Wrapping my legs and arms around him, I let him pound into me. There’s a hunger in his touch like I’ve never felt before. Neither of us speaks as sweat drenches our bodies. The windows that surround his office are open to the rest of the world, but I don’t let it bother me. I left my inhibitions behind when I left Cole.

  I orgasm, knowing it might be one of the last times I clench around River. At least Cole got what he paid for. “River!” I scream over and over.

  I’ll leave River tonight knowing this is the best it can ever be because there is no way I’m letting a man touch me like this again. Cole ruined me in one way; it’ll be hard to open my heart again. River ruined me physically for any other man; I doubt anyone can even come close to this.

  “Marley,” he murmurs against my ear. “I haven’t been able to touch another woman since I met you.”

  Did Cole pay him to say that too?