The Secret

by Stella Gray

  There was no way Stefan could follow me now.

  Tori

  Chapter 7

  Spinning across the dance floor, I reveled in the high energy and party atmosphere of the club. So far, the night had been a crazy whirlwind of drinks and dancing. The loud music and crush of writhing bodies were a thrill, exactly the adrenaline rush I needed to get my mind off of everything that was happening in my life.

  Still, despite the fun I was having—shaking my ass alongside Lila and Audrey as the bass thumped deliciously in my ribcage—I couldn’t help wondering what Stefan’s reaction had been when I hadn’t shown up for dinner at seven. When the outfit he’d laid out for me remained there. Unworn. Untouched.

  Was he still waiting for me, at home or at his father’s penthouse? Was he worried that something might have happened to me? Somehow I doubted it. He was probably just pissed.

  I tried to forget about him. To throw myself fully into the music, the sweat and the crush of the club. The pink cocktails Gavin was happy to buy me, how happy my friends were.

  A familiar pop song came on, reinvigorating my hip shakes, and I spotted Gavin dancing toward our trio across the packed dance floor. I flashed him a small wave, figuring he was just mingling in the crowd, but he took it as an invitation to beeline past Audrey and start dancing up on me. Laughing, I turned the other way. I hoped he’d take the hint that I wasn’t interested in male attention. But his hands were hot against me as they circled my waist from behind, and then I felt his body pressing into me along with the beat. It felt good, but it also felt wrong.

  Wriggling away, I tried to keep a few feet of space between us as we danced. Every time he’d move closer, I’d take another step back. I wasn’t sure why I still cared about propriety after seeing Stefan practically dry hump that model at the fundraiser, but my wedding vows still meant something to me. When I found myself pushed by the crowd back into Gavin’s arms, I finally ducked away to a new spot on the dance floor and dragged Lila with me so I’d have a partner.

  Lila loved being the center of attention, and she didn’t mind putting on a show. As we danced, she put her back to me and slid down to the floor as if I were her personal stripper pole. Then she danced back up and locked her arms around my neck, snaking her hips suggestively against mine. She flashed me a wink and licked her lips and I couldn’t help but giggle.

  “You see that hot guy over there?” she shouted. “Three o’clock, black button-down.”

  I glanced over and saw exactly who she meant. “Yup. He’s definitely checking you out.”

  “Mission accomplished,” she said, turning to give him a head nod.

  When he started making his way toward us, I gave Lila’s shoulder a squeeze. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” I told her. “I’m going to get another drink!”

  Though I tried to avoid our bodies making heavy contact on the floor, it was still fun to flirt with Gavin between songs. When I got to the bar, he had a round of bright blue shots ready and waiting. Diane, who I’d only ever seen dance to Tori Amos, perched on a stool sipping hers.

  “It’s a shot!” I said. “You’re supposed to knock it back all at once!”

  She smiled. “I’m taking it easy tonight. Got an early class tomorrow.”

  I nodded. “Well I’m glad you’re here,” I told her. “I know it’s not your scene.”

  “Always happy to be with my friends,” she said warmly, sliding a shot over to me.

  I grabbed it and held it up toward Gavin. “Cheers to friendship,” I said.

  He grinned and raised his own shot. “Cheers, Tori,” he said. We clinked the tiny glasses and down the blue liquid. It tasted like passionfruit.

  “What is this stuff?” I asked him.

  “It’s delicious!” Diane agreed, still drinking hers in baby sips.

  “Some kind of fruity French vodka?” Gavin said. “I figured you’d think it was pretty.”

  “It’s very pretty,” I said, laughing. Then I downed another.

  There was something very sweet and chivalrous about him—the dance floor grinding notwithstanding. He was kind and attentive to me and all my friends, making sure we had a drink in hand and a smile on our lips. And amid our innocent flirting, there were moments where I could forget what my life had become and let myself fall into the fantasy of starting over.

  The stool beside me opened up and Gavin dropped into it. Diane drifted off toward Lila.

  “You look incredible tonight,” he said, his lips hot and close to my ear as he leaned in to be heard over the loud music.

  I shook off the goosebumps and looked down at my outfit. “This old thing?” I joked.

  It was the same thing I’d been wearing to class, the same thing he’d seen me in all day—a pair of tight but comfy designer jeans and my favorite high-heeled boots. But I’d shed my modest sweater and coat, revealing a black bodysuit with a deep neckline that clung to my curves. I’d never really intended to show it off when I’d left the house all bundled up that morning, but it was my only option when I’d gotten here and the heat of the club had hit me. Most of the other girls had gone home and gotten dolled up, with big hair, big heels, and short, flouncy skirts. I knew I still looked a little out of place, but the way Gavin was looking at me—with real appreciation in his eyes—I didn’t mind standing out too much.

  After weeks of being completely ignored by my husband, having someone look at me like that was a real ego boost. Although I couldn’t help noticing that another guy—one of the bouncers, judging by how huge he was, with his shaved head and Popeye muscles—had been checking me out all night as well. But that guy had an almost predatory look to him, as if he was studying me. With Gavin, it was all appreciative smiles and those warm brown eyes.

  “You’re stunning, no matter what you’re wearing,” Gavin said. “Especially when you’re on the dance floor. It’s nice to see you let loose. You deserve to have some fun tonight.”

  The suggestive tone of his words and the sudden intensity of his gaze implied that he’d be interested in doing any number of other “fun” things with me tonight. But even though his intentions were clear, the whole thing felt very innocent. I allowed myself to imagine for a moment what my life would be like if I’d never met Stefan. If I was meeting Gavin for the first time here, and we were both single.

  It was how I imagined my love story would begin. With this kind of innocent but charged chemistry, the kind of chemistry that could maybe build to something more over time. It would be romantic, falling slowly in love like that. With someone gentle, who really understood me.

  Twirling my empty shot glass on the bar top, I looked over at him and blurted, “What’s your favorite word?”

  “Favorite word?” Gavin repeated.

  Immediately I felt childish for asking, but then he said, “In which language?”

  I grinned. “Latin. Let’s see how good my tutoring this semester has really been.”

  He looked off for a moment, and I wasn’t sure he’d have a real answer until he shrugged his shoulders a little and said, “Cohibeo. It’s the purposeful repression of grief. We don’t have a specific word for that in English.”

  I knew the word. It made me ache. “Why such a sad one?” I asked.

  “I guess because…my dad died when I was young,” he admitted. “And my mom had a string of bad boyfriends, one after another, the whole time I was growing up. A lot of them were abusive. So I don’t know, I guess I feel like my childhood could be defined by the word Cohibeo. I worked hard to put on a brave face. My brother and I both did.”

  “Oh, Gavin, I had no idea,” I murmured, my heart instantly going out to him. “But you were brave. It wasn’t just a face. And look at you now. You’ve come so far.”

  I took his hand for a moment and squeezed. I’d mentioned losing my mother in passing, but he had never told me about his dad. Still trying to act like a tough guy all this time.

  “What’s your favorite Latin word?” Gavin asked, clearly wanting to change the s
ubject, his hand warm on my lower back as he moved closer.

  “I have so many,” I said. I picked up the last shot, the one that Lila had never come to the bar to claim. “But I think the one you need to hear right now is bumastus.”

  “What’s that?”

  I cleared my throat. “It means, “having large grapes.” A shame it’s gone out of use.”

  Gavin threw back his head and laughed, and I joined along with him. When we settled down I realized he was looking at me with so much amusement and awe that I blushed.

  “What?” I asked, a little self-conscious at his obvious admiration.

  “You’re just…great,” he said, shaking his head. “Not at all what I expected. I’ve never met anyone like you. It’s not just that you’re beautiful. You’re brilliant and funny and kind, too.”

  I blushed even harder. No doubt I was red enough that Gavin would be able to tell even in the dark club. Our eyes locked and I could tell he wanted to kiss me right then.

  “Latin’s the best,” I said lamely, trying to break up the moment.

  “Yup. Ancient and inaccessible,” he joked. “Just how I like my women.”

  I slapped him playfully on the arm.

  “Are you calling me ancient?” I teased.

  “Not at all,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “You’re practically a babe in the woods compared to some of us in the program.”

  I noticed he hadn’t refuted the inaccessible part.

  What if things could be different? What would it be like to date someone like Gavin? Someone who genuinely admired me, laughed at my jokes, and liked the same things that I did.

  What if he could be my new start? I’d never cheat on Stefan, regardless of his own actions in that regard, but I couldn’t help imagining what would happen after my divorce.

  I looked up at him again, trying to imagine what sex would be like with someone other than my husband. Would it be as hot and intense and fulfilling as it had been with Stefan?

  Almost as if he could read my thoughts, Gavin’s gaze sharpened, focusing on me, his stare direct and enticing.

  I swallowed.

  Is this what I wanted? I didn’t know anymore.

  Thankfully, Taylor Swift came on and it was the perfect excuse to change the subject.

  “I love this song,” I shouted to him, the speakers pumping it through the club. I wasn’t ready to hit the floor with the amount of alcohol I’d just downed, but I bopped on my stool.

  “This is extremely nerdy,” he said, passing me one of the fresh mixed drinks the bartender had just brought us, “but sometimes I like to translate pop songs into other languages.”

  I grinned. “That is extremely nerdy,” I told him. “But I like it.” I gulped the cold drink.

  He leaned closer and began singing along to the song. In Spanish.

  “Porque los jugadores van a jugar, jugar, jugar. Y los que odian van a odiar, odiar, odiar.”

  I laughed. He had a pretty decent voice but it was hard not to giggle at an adult man singing “Shake It Off” in another language.

  “Not bad,” I told him, waiting for the chorus to come back around before I began singing along with the repeated words I could pick up. He joined in with me until we ran out of words.

  “You nailed it!” Gavin exclaimed, sounding delighted. “How many languages do you speak?”

  “Fluently?” I said. “Not that many. Latin’s not so much a speaking language, though I try, and I’m getting better at ASL. But I don’t know much Spanish—I was just following along with you. Definitely interested in learning more in the program, though. How about yourself?”

  “Eh,” he said, waving a hand. “Only about half a dozen or so.”

  “Half a dozen?” My mouth dropped open. “Fluently?”

  Gavin gave a casual shrug. “I’ve always liked them. I took Spanish and French in high school and studied Mandarin in my spare time. Turns out I have kind of an ear for languages.”

  “Apparently.” I was deeply impressed. I took a few more gulps of the too-sweet mixed drink and stared off into space, deep in thought.

  Maybe if I was honest with Gavin, if I told him everything about my current situation, we could build something out of that. If he knew the truth about my marriage, about the kind of man I was married to and why I’d agreed to the marriage in the first place, maybe he’d be willing to wait for me. Wait until my marriage was officially over. And I was free.

  It would only be a few years. Would he think I was worth it?

  But god, could I really leave Stefan? I hated that I kept thinking about him. Kept fighting the temptation to turn my phone back on and check if he had called or texted. No doubt he’d have things to say to me when I got back home tonight. But I didn’t need to leave any time soon.

  Especially since I was having such a good time with Gavin. He leaned even closer to me.

  “Eisai poly omorfi,” he said.

  “You speak Greek, too?” I asked, astonished.

  He shook his head. “Only a little,” he said. “But I was hoping more to impress you with what I was saying, not how I was saying it. I said, ‘You are very beautiful.’”

  I flushed. “Ef-kha-reesto,” I said, thanking him in Greek. “That’s the only Greek word I know.”

  He moved closer, and suddenly the club felt even more hot and crowded. It wasn’t Gavin, though. It wasn’t his proximity to me or the chemistry that had been pinging between us all evening. This was something else.

  A wave of nausea rolled over me, and I placed a cold hand to the back of my neck. I was pretty sure I was going to be sick. How many shots had I had? And how strong was the fruity drink I’d just downed in the last five minutes?

  “I’m feeling a little off all of a sudden,” I said apologetically, sliding off the stool. The room tilted on its axis. Whoa. “Kinda dizzy. I’m going to hit the ladies’ room. Excuse me.”

  “Are you okay?” I heard him say behind me, his voice worried and already fading away as I moved through the crowd toward the bathroom.

  Faces seemed to swarm around me, unsteady and out of focus in the flashing lights and semi-dark. My stomach roiled, and my mouth was dry. I’d been drunk before, but this wasn’t at all like Vienna. I felt almost detached from my body, and I could barely feel my feet on the floor.

  In fact, my legs didn’t seem to want to work at all. It was like they were encased in concrete. I stumbled, barely staying upright as I moved toward the glowing bathroom sign.

  It was when the sign became blurry as well that I realized something was very, very wrong. My hands groped blindly, looking for something, anything to grab onto, but there was nothing but confused faces turning my way and then dancing bodies moving away from me.

  My pulse skyrocketed. The edges of the room were going black. I was going to pass out.

  I tried to turn back, tried to find Gavin in the crowd, but I couldn’t focus on anyone or anything. My head was pounding, my tongue heavy in my mouth. Everything felt heavy. My legs couldn’t hold me up.

  This whole night had been a terrible idea. I never should have come here.

  I’d been trying to escape Stefan, to forget him, to force my heart to get over him, but that hadn’t worked at all. Instead, as my knees hit the floor, the tiles suddenly hot against my cheek as I slumped over, I saw my husband’s face in the crowd. Impossible.

  But as I lay there on the floor, the darkness creeping in, it was his face I saw again, leaning down over me as he reached out a hand.

  Even in this state, I couldn’t escape him.

  His blazing green eyes were the last thing I hallucinated before I completely passed out.

  Stefan

  Chapter 8

  “Do not take your eyes off my wife for one second until I get there,” I growled into my phone, after directing my driver to take me straight to the club. “And whatever you do, do not let her walk out of there with that piece of shit.”

  I had to go after her.

  And if Tori
thought she was going home with Gavin tonight, she had another thing coming.

  At first I hadn’t cared when she didn’t show up at 7 for dinner at the penthouse; despite my father’s fury at her absence I’d believed my own excuses for why she’d stood us up.

  “She’s got midterms coming up,” I had said. “All she does is study. It’s not the kind of program you can just skate by in, and she cares about her grades. She’s learning sign language.”

  “Sign language? What the hell’s she gonna do with this degree anyway?” my father scoffed. “Plenty of cheaper decorations if she wants something pretty to hang on the wall.”

  “I think it’s cool,” my sister Emzee had cut in. “And I’m glad she has her own passion. The way she talks about linguistics, it really does sound like it’s worth exploring.”

  I had shot my younger sister a grateful look, knowing she’d intentionally interrupted the argument to try getting us back on track to a peaceful evening.

  Sure, I was pissed that my wife had disobeyed a direct order. But I hadn’t been lying about her intense study habits, and to be honest I would have gladly skipped out on dinner with my father too, if I’d been able to get away with it.

  The meal dragged on, my brother Luka unusually sullen and refusing to contribute much to the conversation. Emzee did her best, regaling us with stories about her most recent trip to Istanbul for a photography assignment, but I was relieved when I finally got a text from Dmitri, the secret bodyguard that I’d hired to follow Tori around. I excused myself to read it.

  She’s at the 312 Club, his text read. Popular with college kids. Not dangerous.

  Studying, my ass. She’d have a lot to answer for when she got home tonight.

  I had returned to the table and tried to play the role of good son and brother, even though I’d lost my appetite. The wine helped.

  But when Dmitri texted me again soon after to say Tori was getting handsy with that Gavin asshole, I couldn’t not go after her. Especially when I watched the videos that he sent. The sight of Gavin grinding up on my wife’s ass, the way she held his hand at the bar, their easy laughter—all I saw was red. There was no way I was letting her get away with this.