by Kaylee, Katy
God, being this close to Veronica was wreaking havoc on my emotions. I hadn’t dreamed about her properly in years, and now I was not only dreaming of sleeping with her, but of our first time, the time that we’d admitted our feelings.
What I wouldn’t give to have her right here, right now, to have her in my lap, begging me to thrust into her, making those high-pitched little noises that meant she was close, getting her to say my name… she’d be so hot and sweet, perfect clenching around me just like the other two times at my clinic - yes, yes, fuck yes…
I came hard, staining my sheets and dripping all over my hand.
Dammit, and I’d just done laundry, too.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I wasn’t even safe in my dreams, clearly. And given the way that she ran after our last interaction…
Okay, maybe this was just a wild hope and I was wrong, and she didn’t want anything between us. But I felt like if she didn’t feel anything for me, and she’d sensed that I was falling, she would have told me so and cut it all off calmly. Before, she had said that she wanted to ‘scratch the itch’. Roni wasn’t the type of woman, at least not anymore, that would be ashamed of wanting a casual sexual relationship with a man.
If it had just been that I was falling and she wasn’t, I felt that she would’ve told me.
But she hadn’t.
She had run, fled, stumbling out the door as fast as she could. She hadn’t even had her shoes on.
And that gave me hope - hope that she was falling deeper than she’d expected. That she was starting to fall for me all over again just as I was falling for her. Or, well, realizing how deep in it I still was for her, seeing as I’d never fully fallen out of love with her in the first place - as David so helpfully and gleefully pointed out last week.
I climbed out of bed and got into the shower, scrubbing away the evidence of my dream, but not the memory.
I wasn’t going to let this opportunity slip away. Call it fate or whatever you liked, but Roni and I had found a way back into each other’s lives. This was a second chance. And before, sure, she had been the one to officially give up on us, but I hadn’t helped. What she’d said had hurt and I didn’t necessarily think it was a reason to break up with someone, I thought there were other options, but… it was true. I hadn’t been going anywhere. I hadn’t had any thought to my future. I had just been drifting through life, and with a chip on my shoulder at that.
Now, though. Now we were both in better places. She was free of a bad situation and I was at the top of my professional game. We were in a position to really appreciate each other and start investing in a proper and serious relationship… or at least, I was.
Roni might not be.
She didn’t want a relationship. She’d said that. And that was why she was having a baby this way instead of the old-fashioned way. She didn’t want the complications that came with all of that. And I could understand that, there were a lot of fish in the sea but many of those fish were assholes.
But we had something. I knew that we did. I could feel it, and she could feel it too. I was going to court her properly, win her over the best that I could. Remind her of why we were so good together and convince her to give us another chance.
Maybe I would fail. Okay, there was actually a big chance that I would fail. And if I did, I would back off and I would respect her wishes, and I wouldn’t push.
I also knew, though, that I would never forgive myself if I didn’t try. I would forever regret it, and wonder about what might have been, and what we could have had. I had already spent however many years still pining for her in the back of my mind, unable to move on. I owed it to myself to give this a shot.
I was going to convince Roni to give us another chance. Or I would walk away once and for all.
16
Veronica
It was Friday, which meant I had to get my coffee with Preston.
He had texted me almost immediately after the charity ball, giving me various times and dates when he was free. I could’ve probably avoided it for a little while longer by pretending to have a busier schedule, but I wanted to get this over with. I would give him this coffee date that he claimed he was owed, it would be short, and then I would never have to deal with him again.
Easy-peasy.
We went to this place that Preston recommended near the downtown area, apparently only a block or two from his office. “I stop by here all the time,” he told me as we walked in together. “They all know me here.”
He waved hello at the baristas as we walked in. I noticed that there was this kind of… feeling of a king entering the attendance room where the peasants could talk to him about their troubles and woes. Like he was gracing them with his presence. I didn’t think that Preston even noticed that he had that sort of air about him - most rich people didn’t. Hell, I hadn’t until Ted had pointed it out to me when we were dating.
Ted and I did have arguments while we were dating, just as all couples did, and it was usually about that. “I don’t think you realize how you walk around acting like a princess,” he would say. And he was right, I’d had no clue at all. It had taken me until I was married to Chad to really understand. I would watch him, and notice how arrogant he was and how he entered rooms, and spoke to me, and how it made me feel, and then I’d seen it reflected in a lot of the other people around me in the ‘upper crust’ of our society. Mostly the men.
It was disgusting, honestly. And it had made me feel even more trapped than before, because I hadn’t known that my world was like that, that I could be like that, and so how many other ways was I being hurtful? How many other ways was I separating myself from others and creating more of a trap for myself? I felt trapped enough by my station already, I didn’t need it messing with my head on top of that.
Preston walked up to the counter and ordered, smiling at the barista in a way that made my stomach clench. It wasn’t creepy, not exactly, but it was still… oily. Yes, oily. That was the best way I could describe it.
I insisted on paying for both of our coffees, against Preston’s protests. Look, he was saying that I owed him this coffee date for helping me out at the ball. I wasn’t going to let him trick me into owing him something else simply because he’d paid for the coffee.
We sat in one of those high chairs that face out along the windows so that we could people-watch, a tall bar table in front of us to set our coffees down when we wanted. I saw the seats and snagged them before Preston could grab one of the cozier armchairs or one of those lower-down, more intimate tables. This wasn’t a date, and I wasn’t going to let it become one.
Preston made small talk as we sat down, asking after me, how I was doing since the divorce, if I had heard about so-and-so buying a new car, or about so-and-so’s daughter getting into Stanford, and wasn’t that nice, they must be so proud of her. I nodded along, smiling, and pretending to laugh at his little jokes.
I had been raised to be the consummate hostess, and I was. Pretending often came more naturally to me than just being myself, except around Ted. I’d never been afraid of being myself - the good and the bad and the ugly - around him.
God, I wished that I was with Ted right now instead of with Preston. That thought frustrated me, scared me even… to know that I missed him so much, and already was wishing that I was with him. My entire plan to not get feelings for anyone, to not enter a relationship, seemed to be going up in smoke.
Of course, it wasn’t nearly as frustrating as pretending to care what Preston was saying.
Preston was smiling, telling me what he probably thought was an entertaining story from court. But I couldn’t help but feel that smile was cold, like a crocodile’s.
Preston had in fact been over to our house a lot, as he’d said. And I remembered more than he probably did about those visits. Chad and his friends all tended to think that I suddenly went deaf when they decided they didn’t want to pay attention for me… that just because they forgot I existed meant that I also forgot
they existed.
It didn’t go two ways, buddy. I overheard a lot. In fact, that had all come quite in handy when the time had come to divorce Chad. My only wish was that I’d been even more paranoid and gotten recordings of some of the things Chad had said, like all the times he’d bragged to his buddies about cheating on me.
Preston had, at least, never liked those times. He had always defended me. But he had also talked a lot about his clients and his cases. I had seen how little he thought of the people he was representing. He had turned away plenty of people who seemed to be in need of his help, because they weren’t wealthy enough for his fees. As if he needed the money.
He had talked about his client’s secrets, supposedly confidential information, to Chad just like it was nothing. I supposed that I could have understood if Preston was telling his wife in confidence, or his best friend in confidence, even, since we all needed to vent. But Chad wasn’t Preston’s closest friend, and Preston would just say these things as if all the world could hear them and he wouldn’t care. In fact, I was almost certain that the information about one woman’s affair with her pool boy had come to be public knowledge because her husband (well, now ex-husband) was a client of Preston’s and he had been talking to Chad about that very thing right before the gossip went viral.
Not to mention, as if all of this wasn’t enough, I had heard Preston talk about how he padded the bills of his clients. He didn’t need the money, far from it, just like he could’ve taken on lower-income clients, but it was all about getting as much as he could from his clients, I suppose. That and winning his cases by any means necessary.
“You should’ve been a lawyer,” he would always tell Chad. “You could’ve been swimming in it, man.”
Disgusting.
I could tell that Preston was trying to be charming. But no. It wasn’t working for me. Not when I had seen his true colors with Chad and their other so-called buddies.
“And anyway, I think that you’re holding up far better than most of my divorced clients,” Preston said, finishing up his story. His entire chat had been filled with compliments for me, and I supposed that I ought to have been flattered, but instead I felt like he was buttering me up for something. Like there was an ulterior motive. Preston wasn’t the kind of man who gave anything away for free, not even compliments. “They’re absolute wrecks, but not you. You’re holding up with the grace and poise that I’ve always known you for.”
He reached across to take my hand. I realized what he meant only too late, and I tried to pull away, but by then he had my hand in his grip and was squeezing tightly, tight enough that I couldn’t get away without making it obvious.
Everything I had been taught by my parents told me to smile and accept it, to be polite above all else. But I wanted to yank my hand away and then go and wash it thoroughly.
Preston smiled at me, and I could see a calculating edge in that smile. “You’re always so graceful and poised, the proper Southern lady. It’s really quite admirable.”
“Thank you. You can credit my parents, they were always strict about things like that. They have high standards.”
“As one should. I have high standards myself. High standards for living, and for work. I expect nothing but excellence from myself, and I have a high standard for my future wife, as well. Nothing but the best.” His thumb stroked back and forth along my hand and I had to suppress a shudder, a lump forming in the pit of my stomach as I realized what he was getting at.
“I would never sleep with another man’s wife, just as I would never cheat on my own wife. I believe in the promise of marriage, in keeping one’s word.” Preston’s eyes searched mine, and I forced a demure smile onto my face.
“And I never would’ve said anything while you were still with Chad, out of respect for your marriage and my friendship with him. But now that your divorce is finalized…” His smile grew. “I can tell you that I’ve longed to make you mine, for quite some time.”
Oh, God. I swallowed, keeping that smile on my face, and tried to make myself look flattered. “I - I had no idea.”
Really, I hadn’t. This was completely out of left field for me.
Preston must make a good lawyer because I’d truly never gotten a hint that he had anything other than common respect for me. But he had been… lusting after me? This entire time?
It shocked me - and more than that, it made me uncomfortable.
“Of course, at first there’s always the possibility of reconciling,” Preston went on. “So I kept away just to be sure. I wouldn’t want to be tacky, making a move too soon. And you need time to adjust. I know that the divorce was painful for you.” He made a sympathetic face that nonetheless made me feel like a worm was making its way down my esophagus.
“But now that some time has passed, perhaps you’d be open to exploring a relationship with me. I would like a wife. Someone to come home to at night. But my wife can’t just be a companion for the bedroom. I’m not like Chad, I know that I need a woman for more than just sex - to be my partner in life, to help me as I climb up the ladder.”
“You seem to be at the top of your firm, though,” I said, trying to gently slide my hand out from underneath his.
“Thank you.” Preston practically preened with pride. “But I have ambitions beyond just where I am now. I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t stop until he’s all the way at the top.” He sighed. “But I came from humble beginnings. And there are some people who still don’t understand or appreciate that. They see it as some kind of… stain on my record, when personally I think that it’s a further mark of a man’s character that he works his way up from nothing. It shows you that you can really trust him, since you know he’s proven himself.”
I finally managed to gently extricate my hand from his grip, patting his hand and smiling at him. “I completely understand. I’ve seen that firsthand. People don’t want to give others a chance if they don’t have the right pedigree.”
“I knew you would get it.”
If only he knew how much. I wasn’t thinking about Preston in that moment - but Ted. How my parents hadn’t given him a chance, and how I hadn’t, either. I had let my parents convince me that he wasn’t worth it, when in the end he’d been the only person to make me happy.
What did ambition, or lack of it, matter when Ted had made me happy? It wasn’t like I’d been dissatisfied in our relationship. I’d been able to be myself with him, and I had felt safe and loved, and that was what mattered. Not what kind of career goals he had.
“You can marry for love,” Preston explained. “Or you can marry for love and strategy. I could just as easily fall for a well-connected woman with a family name as I could a poor woman with no status, so why not go for the former? With you… the DeMarcus girl… with you on my arm, the embodiment of charm and refinement, and so well-connected… it would make a huge difference for me. I don’t want anything to impede my advancement.”
He reached out and gently tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Not to mention you’re beautiful,” he murmured.
Oh, God, I felt so creeped out, like spiders were crawling up my skin. I had to work hard to keep from just leaping backwards so that he couldn’t reach me and touch me anymore.
“Thank you,” I said instead. “I’m really flattered, truly. I had no idea that you felt that way, and I appreciate that you wanted to respect our marriage and your relationship with Chad, and that you respected the possibility of our reconciling. It means a lot to know that.
“But I’m afraid that I’m just not interested in dating just yet. I’m working on myself, giving myself time to breathe. I defined myself as Chad’s wife for so long and everything in my life was about my marriage to him. I want to figure out who I am without tying myself to someone.”
All of this was true, but I couldn’t stop the voice in my head that whispered that I’d never needed to figure out who I was with Ted. I had just been myself and he’d accepted that. With Ted I had never been just his girlfriend, or ju
st a part of his life. I hadn’t had to define myself by any way other than what was comfortable for me.
It was also true that no matter how ready I was to enter a relationship in general, I was never going to want to enter a relationship with Preston.
“Completely understandable,” Preston said. “I really get where you’re coming from. I’m willing to be patient.”
Being patient, however, didn’t mean he was giving up, and I could read between the lines of that pretty damn easily.
“I really do appreciate your compliments,” I said, hoping that I could get my point across while still being polite. “But I’m not interested. In fact, I may never date again after how badly the first time around went.”
I stood up before Preston could find an excuse to touch me again. “Thank you so much for getting coffee with me. You’re a gifted conversationalist.”
Now I just had to get out of here as quickly as possible.
I turned to go and headed for the exit, but Preston wasn’t finished with me. “I’m not going to give up easily,” I heard him call after me.
With my face turned away from him, I winced, grabbing the door and shoving it open, embracing the fresh air outside. How on earth did I end up in this situation?
And what could I possibly do about it?
17
Ted
By Saturday I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had to see her and I had to talk to her about this once and for all. No getting distracted by our lust, as tempting as that was.
No, I had to focus and I had to ask her if she would consider giving me a proper chance.
Roni’s cottage - a charming place - was in my records, since she’d had to put it in when she filled out the forms. I felt bad just showing up at her place, but hopefully she wouldn’t see it as stalking. If she did, I would explain how I got the address and apologize, and I wouldn’t show up at her place again. But I knew this was going to be a long and difficult conversation, and I would rather have it somewhere completely private where we could stay as long as we needed rather than somewhere public where a waiter or someone might eavesdrop.
