“It’s that girl. From the party, isn’t it?” Dennis asked, his question weeding through my thoughts. “What was her name?” He’d been waiting for a chance to ask about Corinne ever since the night he met her.
I exhaled, rubbing at my eye. “Corinne,” I admitted.
“And she’s married to Jack, right?” Dennis asked, reaching for his beer. I told him he needed to quit. He had high blood pressure and cholesterol, but Dennis was the type of man who never listened to anyone’s orders. He gave them.
“Yeah,” I said, sipping on my beer.
He shook his head, setting his beer down. The look in his eyes told me I was in for it. He always had that expression when he was about to scold me. “You sure have gotten yourself into a mess, haven’t you?”
Dennis had been through three wives. He knew the hardships of marriage.
“The way I feel about her,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “I’ve never felt it before.”
He nodded slowly, chuckling. “Love.”
My shoulders lifted and fell on their own.
“How does she feel?”
It was a question I didn’t want to face. Though my heart said she felt what I did, my mind told me otherwise. The more time we spent together… the more time I saw how unhappy she was in her marriage, and yet how she refused to leave it, even knowing I’d be there for her… the more I began to doubt.
Maybe I would only be a fling for her. Something to get out of her system. I didn’t want to believe those thoughts, because I felt like I knew Corinne, maybe more than myself, and there was no way she didn’t feel what I did.
But doubt still had a way of seeming taller than hope.
“Honestly… I don’t know,” I answered, playing with my drink napkin. “She cares for me. I know she’s unhappy in her marriage, but she isn’t the type to leave. She’s faithful until the end.”
He made a sort of grunting noise in his throat. “A piece of advice?” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“Please.”
“Leave her before she leaves you.”
Dennis’ words rang in my ears when I met Corinne on the elevator later that day. Stinging like the pricking from a thorn. I couldn’t bring myself to accept them. Just thinking about not seeing Corinne anymore made my stomach twist. Made me revolt against them… wanting to prove he was wrong.
She was already kissing me, telling me how much she missed me once we were behind my door. What we had was real. It had to be. I felt her, soul to soul. Bone to bone.
I stilled her against the wall, running my hands through her hair, searching her eyes.
“What is it?” Desire rolled off her in sweet, syrupy waves.
I kissed her forehead. Taking her hand in mine, I started guiding her to my bedroom.
“But I thought—”
I quieted her with a kiss. Lowered her onto the bed, putting myself between the silken smoothness of her legs.
I wanted her in my bed. Her scent in my sheets.
“You turn me inside out, you know that?”
She was smiling, so sweetly, her fingertips grazing up and down my back, the sensation making me shiver.
“Same,” she said, nuzzling me with her nose.
“This… this is real, right?” I felt so fucking vulnerable asking her that, like I didn’t have my shit together, but I needed to know. I needed to.
Her head tilted to the side. “Cole?”
I pressed my forehead against hers. Kissed her once. Twice. “Just tell me,” I pleaded, wishing things were different. Wishing she were free.
“Yes,” she said, lifting my chin until our eyes met. “This is real.”
I fell into her then. Heart to heart as I pushed her further into my bed, taking her softly, kissing her tenderly, imprinting the moment into my sheets. She met me with just as much tenderness, rolling me over, climbing on top, showering me in her love.
Her hair created a cocoon around us. Her kisses filled every hole left open in my heart. We moved in a slow rhythm, hips swirling, lips tasting, fingers caressing. The way her body connected with mine was pure heaven. Fucking delicious.
I flipped until she was beneath me, need building with a fury as I took her nipple in my mouth, lightly biting, driving myself harder and harder into her. With her, it could never stay sweet. Slow. She didn’t want it that way either.
After we finished, I pulled her against me. She snuggled into the crook of my neck where she normally rested. My mind was dizzy with so many thoughts. Fears. Questions. I thought I could fuck the doubt from my mind, but the seed had been planted.
“You’re not a quiet worrier,” she said, her voice light and airy. I loved that tone. The ease of it. It was lifted after sex, the pleasure we brought out in each other relaxing our vocal chords.
I rubbed her arm. “I was wondering…”
Propping on an elbow, she eyed me. “What?”
“Are you still sleeping with him?”
She stilled, her muscles going rigid. She laid back down, and I could see her heart beating hard against her chest.
“He’s my husband,” she said, voice so quiet I almost didn’t hear it.
I already knew that. How could she not be sleeping with him? But hearing it still felt like a hammer being taken to my chest. Why? Why did it hurt so much?
“What about you?” she asked.
I heard the hesitation in her voice. She was scared to ask. Scared to hear the answer.
I rolled until I was facing her. “Only once,” I admitted, brushing my thumb over her chin.
She tensed.
“It was in the beginning, when I was still trying to pretend like I wasn’t a goner for you.” There was a long moment’s pause. “It sucks,” I said, smoothing my hand over her collarbone.
“I know.”
“I want you for myself.”
Though she buried her head into the pillow, I didn’t miss the tears filling her eyes before she did.
“Cole…”
“Stay.”
“Cole, please.”
“Stay,” I insisted, my stubborn side refusing to give up.
Her eyes were asking me why. Begging me to give her a good enough reason.
“Because I want you to,” I said, feeling her pull away. “Isn’t that enough?”
She was crying openly now, and I hated that I’d made her cry. I pulled her against me. Rubbed circles against her back, telling her I was sorry for pushing her. Sorry for hurting her.
“Please,” she said in between the tears. “Please don’t mess this up. Please.”
“I won’t. I swear, babe. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
As I held her, I realized there was no hope for me. I was a goner. I would do whatever Corinne asked. If it meant waiting forever, I’d gladly do it. If it meant letting her go, I’d suffer through just to make her happy.
I was lost in her.
Lost for her.
And I didn’t care about being found.
Chapter 21
Corinne
Jack and I were married on a Monday in the middle of January.
A pliant month, hopeful and open to change.
Back then, we were like spring flowers, flourishing, feeling like every decision we made would color the world. My parents thought we were crazy for having the wedding on a Monday in the midst of winter, worrying no one would show.
But I wasn’t worried.
Mondays were blue. Cold. Annoying.
January was the month of fresh starts.
I wanted to change that feeling. I wanted to see Mondays as the day that changed my life for the better. I wanted to wake up every Monday with a smile, knowing that when one specific Monday rolled around, we’d look back and laugh at all the crazy decisions we made together.
This Monday, though, I woke alone.
I stared at the date on my phone, the air untrustworthy and cold. Solidified. Ten years ago today we’d been married. Bound to one another. Promises plastered within the snowflakes.<
br />
I thought ten years would be a special celebration. There was something about decades that got people excited. A blip of time that passed by all of a sudden, yet mirrored the world of change around them.
I never had anything specific in mind. Maybe a vacation. Or a trip back to where we were married. Something that would bring us back together. Anything but this.
Heading to the kitchen, I put on a pot of coffee, wondering where Jack was. My mind foggy. Distant. Full of static.
Then I saw the note on the fridge.
We’re out of milk. Didn’t want to wake you. Be back soon.
I wondered if he remembered. Jack was never good with dates. Numbers were his nemeses. He’d forgotten my birthday once, the third year into our relationship. He’d been so kind and apologetic the next day after hearing the birthday message my parents left on our voice mail. He even went as far as buying me a diamond necklace.
I would have been happy with just a candlelit dinner in our tiny apartment.
I sat on the small chaise overlooking the city below and tucked my legs under myself with a cup of hot coffee. I didn’t mind drinking it black. Any way was fine with me, so long as I had some in hand.
The windows were frosted around the edges framing the city in soft white. It was a beautiful morning. Snow fell in small wisps, drifting to the left, going wherever the wind took them. I tried to imagine the bodies down below, bundled in layers of sweaters and jackets, off to start their morning. Was it any of their birthdays today? Were any of them celebrating an anniversary?
The front door opened, and I swirled around in my seat. Jack still had a little bit of snow in his hair, carrying a bag with a carton of milk. He liked the organic stuff.
“Hey, you,” he said when he noticed me as he opened the fridge.
“Morning.” I stood and trailed over to him, setting my mug down on the counter.
He reached for a mug, then poured the coffee halfway before adding the milk and sugar. “It’s freezing out there. Insanity.”
“It looks cold,” I said, moving closer to him, feeling the chill that clung to his jacket.
He looked at me funny. “You okay?”
I batted my lashes. Grinned like I was silly, waiting for him to say it.
He chuckled, and then kissed my lips. “You’re crazy, you know that?”
When he walked away to head to the counter, my heart slumped. I stood in front of the sink, across from him.
Come on… ten years. You have to remember. Please?
“Corinne?”
“Hmm?”
“You’re staring.”
“I know.”
He sat his phone down. Confusion swirled within his gaze. I tilted my head to the side, waiting for it to dawn on him. So maybe he forgot… that didn’t mean he couldn’t remember and make the best of the day ahead of us. I wasn’t the type who put all the weight on the man to make the surprises happen. It was his anniversary, too
I grabbed his phone, opened the calendar on it, and then pushed it in front of him.
He glanced down, realization sliding across his features. “Ten years today, right?” His question was unsteady, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he’d calculated it right.
“Yes,” I said, reaching for my mug. “Happy anniversary.”
He came around the counter. Pulled me into an artificial hug. “I’m sorry, hun. I would have remembered sooner if it weren’t for the milk.”
Sure he would have. It was always some excuse.
My smile was the middle finger. “It’s okay. You remember now.”
He pulled back, the shape of his eyes trying to find the rhythm of worry within me. The offbeat pattern. The vanilla softness I’d long forgotten. “We should do something special. What do you want to do?”
I choked on my thoughts, confusion a tangled web I’d stumbled into. He never asked what I wanted to do. I didn’t have a clue myself.
“Anything, so long as it’s with you.” I pulled on his hand. “Dinner would be nice.” My heart swelled with hope. Maybe this was the change I’d been waiting for. Maybe he was finally going to put me first.
His lips caressed my forehead. “I’ve got the perfect place in mind.”
The scent of change was in the air, intriguing and intoxicating. A wild rapid rushing through my blood. Jack took me to an up-and-coming restaurant on the other side of the town. Said it had the best steaks and atmosphere.
I didn’t care where we ate, so long as we were enjoying each other.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d spent alone time with him. A date night. Maybe a couple of years back? It made my stomach do little flips, as if it were a first date. I chose to wear a nice black dress that complimented my form. Straightened my hair and put on some makeup. Jack liked me in black.
“How is it?” he asked, watching as I chewed a piece of my prime rib.
The restaurant was surprisingly small. The ambiance sensual and intimate. The lighting was dim. The music filled with swirling, husky notes. We were tucked in the corner at the back of the room, the seats of our booth made of a rich red velvet. Black lace covered the tabletops. His hand was on my knee, rubbing small circles.
It wasn’t the type of place I ever imagined Jack going to. He loved sports bars and pubs. Loud chatter and TVs hanging from the ceiling. Intimacy on this level made him laugh. But the way he was relaxed into the booth, as if he had been there a thousand times before, said otherwise. The way his head bobbed back and forth to the beat of the music. How he smiled at the waitress on an almost personal level. No sign of the coldhearted businessman too caught up to live in a moment.
He was a different Jack. New to me.
I felt a small pang of guilt for not noticing the change in him. Then again, I hardly ever saw him enough to notice.
“Exquisite,” I said after swallowing. “How did you find out about this place?”
His smile dimmed. “A friend.” The words were short. Clipped. But I passed them off. I was too far in heaven, inside the moment, to pay notice.
I cut into another piece. “Tell your friend they have excellent taste.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just sipped on his wine, seemingly engrossed by the stage where a woman sang with her guitar.
“So… I was thinking…” I continued, heart strumming a happy beat, “maybe we could take a carriage ride after this? Cuddle up as we watch the city move by?”
“Sure.” He finally focused on me, his smile brightening the ocean blue of his eyes.
They were my favorite physical thing about him. A shade of blue that made me think of swimming in the deepest part of the ocean… almost black.
He sat his wineglass down. “So… how are the classes?”
“Good.” I took another sip from my glass. “Next month I’ll be taking a new course.” I paused… debating if I wanted to tell him or not. Tested the moment, wondering if it was safe.
“What?” His smile widened, and I took a chance.
The words took a brave dive off the edge of my tongue. “I was thinking, after I finish, maybe I could rent a small space of my own where I can showcase my ideas to help people decorate.”
“You mean start a business?”
I nodded, trying not to notice the disdain in his voice. Hoping my enthusiasm was contagious. “Yeah. It’s just a thought, of course. Nothing solid. Just something I’ve been thinking about for a while.”
He softened his smile. “Corinne… I know it’s a fun hobby, but building a business out of it… Do you realize how difficult that will be?”
My appetite fading fast, I stared at my fingers. “Of course I do, Jack. But I just—”
He reached for my hand and squeezed. Another smile, this time condescending and cold. “Listen, Rinny. I just don’t want you to get your hopes up. This means something to you. I get it. You’re bored with the housewife thing. So just… enjoy it for now. Maybe, down the road, we can talk about it.”
His words were nails, lo
cking me inside a coffin. Snuffing out my light. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, too afraid I’d lose my cool. Tell him I could do whatever I damn well pleased. The words were there like acid rushing up my throat, burning for release.
But I didn’t want to ruin the moment. It had been so long since we shared time together. It wasn’t worth fighting over. Maybe he didn’t think it was a good idea, but things were evolving between us. I wasn’t about to give up my dreams again.
“Would you like dessert?” the waitress asked as she cleared our plates.
“No,” Jack said before I could say yes. “Right?” he asked as soon as she walked away.
My chest ached, deflated, like a popped balloon. “Right.”
After he paid the bill, we headed out into the night, tucked inside coats and gloves and scarves. It was ungodly cold. The kind of cold that made bones numb. Snow fell like confetti from the sky, blanketing the streets. There weren’t as many people out as usual. I couldn’t blame them. Going out on a freezing Monday was insanity.
Jack strode up to one of the men on the carriage, counting out the cash so we could take our ride. I was near the horse, petting his side, wishing I could feel the fur with my bare hands.
“Corinne,” Jack called, already inside the carriage.
He held his hand out and helped me in, waiting for me to sit. Wrapping us up in the thick blanket provided, he pulled me close. His body was warm, the shape of him comforting. We used to fit together so well, like puzzle pieces, connecting. Reuniting.
I rested my head on his shoulder, my heart smiling in contentment. I missed him so much. Missed the man I fell in love with. The one who used to watch me with wonder. Who used to listen as if my words were testament.
When did that change? Why hadn’t I saw it? Did anyone ever see change in a person until it was too late?
“What are you thinking about?” he asked, rubbing his hand over my arm. The carriage rocked back and forth as we rode through Central Park beneath glittering lights.
Ten Reasons to Stay ((The Risky Hearts Duet) Book 1) Page 15
