Author Anonymous: A True Story

by E. K. Blair

  “Are you crying?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Tell me why you’re crying,” he requests, his voice soft and smooth.

  “I don’t know,” I tell him. “I’ve wanted to call you, I just couldn’t.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my husband watches my every move.”

  “When you never responded to my texts, I figured you didn’t want to talk to me.”

  “You texted me? When? I never got them.” I reach for my cell and scroll through my texts, but there’s nothing. I then open my settings to find that Landon must’ve gotten into my phone, because Alec’s phone number is on my blocked list. “He blocked you.”

  “Where are you calling me from?”

  “I’m in Austin for a book signing. I’m on the hotel phone in my room.”

  Tears continue to quietly slip out.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him after a long span of silence. “I’m sorry I lied to you.”

  He still doesn’t respond.

  “Are you mad at me?”

  “I’m mad that you didn’t give me a choice,” he says. “If you would’ve told me from the beginning that you were married with kids, then I could’ve made the choice whether or not to pursue you, but you didn’t give me that. Instead, I blindly fell for a woman who was already taken.”

  “And what about now?”

  “I can’t get you out of my thoughts. I still want that cup of coffee with you.”

  “But I’m married.”

  “Are you sure about that? Maybe on paper you are, but are you married in your heart? Because you’re crying on the phone with a man that’s not your husband.”

  “I don’t know what I am anymore. I mean, I don’t even know you. I’ve tricked myself into believing I do because I’ve spent the last three months creating you in my head. It’s not who you really are though. I don’t know who you really are.”

  “Then come find out.”

  “Alec . . .”

  “All I’m asking for is to meet for coffee. Where’s the harm in that? You can go to a coffee shop and I’ll just happen to be there,” he suggests as if meeting him wouldn’t be a betrayal to my husband. It would be, and we both know it.

  “Say I did meet you, and in a perfect world, things worked out, what about the fact I have two kids?”

  “I love that you’re a mom. Like I said before, I want kids.”

  His words are what every woman who fears walking away from a marriage would want to hear, and even though they’re too perfect, I allow myself the comfort to get lost in them.

  “But do you want a woman who would chase a man while she’s married to another?”

  “Like I said, you took that choice away from me when you allowed me to fall for the lie,” he maintains. “Tell me something, are you happy?”

  “No.”

  “Do you love him?”

  “That’s not an easy question to answer. I mean, things aren’t what they used to be, but we’ve built a life together. We have a family.”

  “Don’t let the idea that you owe him something because of the years you have invested cloud what it means to love someone. Love is not the same as obligation.”

  I lie down and rest my head on the pillow. “It’s not so simple,” I quietly weep. “I have two little girls I have to think about.”

  “Tell me about your girls,” he says, and I do.

  He continues to ask questions about them as time passes. My tears wane as our conversation drifts on, and before I know it, I’m unbuttoning my pants without his solicitation.

  “Talk to me, Alec,” I say thickly, needing his brazen words that I’ve been deprived of.

  “What do you want me to say?”

  “You know what I want you to say,” I tell him as I slip my hand between my legs.

  The sound of his belt buckle coming undone sends my system into overdrive.

  “Tell me you’ve missed me,” he urges, and I’m so weak for this attention that I give into his request without hindrance.

  “I’ve missed you.”

  “Do you think about me when you get off?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” he scolds.

  “Even with my husband, it’s the thought of you that makes me cum.” And it’s true for the most part. There’s so much discord with Landon that when we’re having sex, I’m imagining someone else, most often Alec. I know that makes me a shit person, but it’s the truth.

  “Fuck, that makes me so hard.”

  And that’s it, I’m completely lost again, throwing my body into a raging orgasm with Alec as we get ourselves off with each other. But this time, I don’t have to worry about Landon coming home from work early, so I take advantage and give into the gluttony of it all. We get off, talk, get off, and then talk some more. We go for hours like this, but it’s still not enough to sate me. When exhaustion finally hits and the sun has set, I’m about to doze off when Alec takes full advantage.

  “Tell me you’ll meet me when you get back to Boston.”

  Numb and mindless, I respond, “Okay, Alec. We’ll do this your way.”

  “Tell me,” he pushes.

  “I’ll meet you.”

  She appears the same to me when I look at her, but I know she no longer is. She’s someone I don’t know, but she stares back at me with mythomane in her eyes, which harbor compulsive lies and marrow-deep fantasy. She blinks nervously. I’ve been warned to stay away from morally wicked women my whole life, but there’s something about her that makes me want to be her.

  I pick up my lipstick and watch as she mirrors every single movement of mine, pressing her lips together to set the blushed bee’s wax. Is her heart wildly out of control like mine? Is she scared like me? Nervous like me? Excited like me? Deplorable like me?

  Alec: 11:00

  His text marks the timestamp in which I will break yet another binding promise to Landon, further destroying our marriage.

  Me: 11:00

  I respond, confirming our nefarious coffee date.

  I set down the disposable phone I bought after seeing the horrendously expensive hotel bill this past weekend. Thank God that charge is on my business account that Landon doesn’t have access to. Now I can call and text Alec as much as I want without Landon being able to track me.

  I grab my keys and walk out of this house that Landon and I have created as our home. With each step, with each breath, I’m selfishly pissing all over everything I vowed to love and cherish. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but the simple, self-gratifying reality is—I want to. I want to see Alec and talk to him face to face. I want to experience him in person. Just the thought of sitting next to him sparks an adrenaline rush in me that clouds my judgment even more.

  No longer am I living in the gray.

  No.

  This is black and white. This is right and wrong. This is now a deeply carved line in stone that I’m about to cross.

  It was one thing to unconsciously fall into something over the phone, but this is something else entirely. This is a conscious decision I’m making, knowing damn well the repercussions if I get caught. But I won’t get caught. I’ve thought this out, made my plan, secured my safety in this situation. I have made sure that any incoming phone calls on my cell will be forwarded to my untraceable phone. And as far as Landon tracking me, I drive to CambridgeSide Galleria, make my way into Macy’s and drop my silenced phone down into the center of a large, round clothing rack. Now if Landon tracks me, he’ll simply think I’m spending the day shopping.

  With each move I make, my nerves spike in fear, but it’s not enough to stop me. When I get back to my car, I take a deep breath and then shift into drive. My stomach is one big knot, my palms sweat, and my heart ricochets against my chest.

  I’m detestable, a married woman going to meet another man.

  I’m not myself.

  I’m the reflection in the mirror.

  I’m her—Victoria.

  Pulling int
o the parking lot, I scan the cars to see if he’s already here, and when I spot the silver SUV I saw the night at the hotel, I park beside it.

  Don’t do this, Tori. Toss the affair phone and go back home.

  You feel that, Victoria? You feel the rush?

  This is dangerous. Landon will divorce you if he finds out.

  This is the thrill of a lifetime. Don’t turn back now. You’ve simply been standing in line, but now it’s time to jump on the ride of your life.

  You’ll lose everything. This is a stupid cheap thrill with scathing consequences.

  I open my car door and step out into the freezing damp air of Boston’s winter. I’m numb. I don’t even feel myself as I walk to the entrance.

  Turn around, Tori.

  God, this is electrifying!

  Don’t open the door. It’s not too late to turn around and run.

  I walk in and spot him sitting next to a fogged window, but I don’t take another step. I can’t.

  He then shifts and turns his head in my direction.

  We lock eyes.

  My heart thrums, my skin tingles, my hands fidget.

  The corner of his mouth pulls into a subtle smile, and when he lifts his chin to acknowledge me, my limbs thaw and, step by step, I walk toward my life’s game changer. It’s a magnetism that pulls me, an unknown force that’s always been there, taking me hostage, but in no way do I want to fight myself from him—only toward him.

  He stands, moving with such ease. “You came.”

  “You didn’t think I would?”

  Moving behind me, he takes the collar of my coat in his hands—fingers ghosting along my neck—and slips it off my shoulders. I turn to face him, my nervous smile meeting his confident one. He doesn’t speak, and when he motions for me to take a seat, I do.

  “Are you nervous?”

  “A little,” I admit, my hands still jittery.

  He sits back, relaxing into his seat, never taking his eyes off me, and suddenly I’m self-conscious. I chastise myself for not checking my face and hair before getting out of the car. Alec takes his time as he examines me, his certitude a stark contrast to my anxiety, but I feign calm.

  “Coffee?”

  I nod and watch as he slips his hand under his suit coat and pulls out a credit card. He holds it out for me between his two fingers.

  “You remember how I take my coffee, don’t you?”

  I look to his hand that’s holding the card and think back to our very first conversation. Be it that it was three months ago, it shocks me that in fact I do remember, but if I admit that, is he going to think I’m some desperate woman? I mean, who would remember such a trivial thing after so much time had passed?

  He withdraws his hand and turns in his chair to grab his coat that’s draped over it.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Leaving,” he says coolly.

  “Why?”

  “I told you it was your decision whether or not you cared to remember how I took my coffee. I would’ve thought, with everything that’s on the line between us, you would’ve remembered.”

  Irritation flares. “Do you remember every little thing I’ve told you?”

  “Yes, Victoria. I do.”

  “Really?” I shoot back with a slightly patronizing tone.

  He turns back around, rests his forearms on the table, and leans in toward me. “Go ahead. Ask me anything.”

  I go for something as equally trivial. “What’s my favorite movie?”

  “Crash,” he responds quickly, and then grows cavalier, adding to prove his point, “You graduated from Boston University, your brother’s wife’s name is Claire, you’re a runner, and you suffer from nightmares about your mother faking her death as a way to abandon you.”

  I don’t react as I sit here, stunned that he would recall all that after so many months have elapsed.

  “So tell me, was I wrong to care enough to remember all that when you never asked me to?”

  I shake my head, miffed. “Give me your credit card,” I request before I run the risk of him leaving after all I’ve jeopardized to come here.

  When he holds it back out for me, I take it and walk over to the counter to place the order. I fight the urge to look at him. While I wait for the barista to make our drinks, I don’t know whether to be irked or amused at his little game. As if this isn’t awkward enough.

  “Here you go,” I say when I return and set Alec’s mug on the table. “Black with two sugars.”

  I sit down and take a slow sip of my coffee.

  “Tell me why you’re nervous.”

  I set my mug down and take a moment before responding. “Because this isn’t me. Because I don’t do things like this.”

  “Like what? Meet a friend for coffee?”

  “You know this is a lot more than just coffee, Alec.”

  “This is whatever you want it to be. I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “This is my choice, I know. But at the same time, it isn’t.”

  “How so?”

  “You don’t make it easy to stay away,” I tell him. “I know I shouldn’t be here. I know this is wrong, but you make it to where I don’t care.”

  “Then tell me . . . Where should you be?”

  “Home.”

  “Then why aren’t you?”

  Sadness thickens, and I take a deep breath. “Because I’m no longer happy there.” I aimlessly fiddle with my mug, watching my nervous fingers, and when I look at Alec, I say what I’ve been terrified to say. “I don’t think I love my husband anymore.”

  He extends his hand across the small table and wraps it around mine. The single touch is enough to awaken all my senses with a spine-tingling charge. But the core of me is in agony because of this. Because everything in my life seems to be spiraling out of control. Landon and I fight more than we ever did before. He’s always accusing and suspecting the worst of me. And what’s so fucked up is that I know he has every right to be that way, but I still loathe him for it. I’m bitter and angry, and it seems to get worse with every day that passes.

  “And what about this?” he questions.

  “This is confusing. I can’t deny that I’m drawn to you in a way I’ve never felt before. Like I’ve told you, you’re intense and all-consuming.”

  He takes his hand from mine and then stands to walk over to my side of the table. The heat from his body warms me wholly when he sits next to me. For months I’ve thought about what it would feel like to be this close to him, so when he wraps his arm around my shoulders, it’s a toxic shock to my system.

  He leans in, and with a hushed voice, says, “I care about you; I don’t want you to think I don’t. The last thing I want to do is pressure you, but it’s hard for me not to want to sway you in my direction.”

  “I’m already swaying,” I whisper before he brushes his thumb along my cheekbone. I haven’t felt the touch of another man since I met Landon thirteen years ago, and I wonder if Alec can hear my erratic breathing.

  “I’m nothing like you,” he warns.

  “I know.”

  But maybe this is what I need. Maybe I’m no longer interested in the familiar, in the safe, or in the comfort. Maybe I’ve outgrown my preference for standard. And maybe if I cross this line and explore this other way of life and this other way of thinking, I could be happier. Maybe I’m about to find out who I was always meant to be.

  He slowly traces his thumb from my cheek, down my jaw, and to my chin. He tilts my head back but doesn’t make another move. As I look into the midnight blue eyes of this man who’s almost ten years older than me, I feel small—almost child-like—next to his confident demeanor. It’s a feeling I’m not used to, but a feeling I like.

  A menagerie of emotions collides inside of me, but lust, desire, and the curiosity of the unknown are the ones that tangle around my heart like a noose, and when they begin to strangle, I peer into Alec’s eyes and give him the approving nod I know he’s waiting
for.

  I inhale the spice of his scent, and my eyes fall shut when he drops his lips to mine and kisses me slowly. I hesitate for a moment when the stun hits me that I’m kissing a man that’s not my husband, but the feeling fades as quickly as it appeared. My mouth gently moves with his, and everything about the way this man kisses is different than Landon. With such a slow moving kiss, there’s a verve in it that feeds the endorphins that are bursting in my chest.

  No longer am I a woman embarking on an affair in the middle of a coffee shop. I’m somewhere else, suspended above gravity in a world where nothing exists but me, and Alec, and this amazing high. When Alec pulls back, dragging his lips from mine, I already know that not even I can save myself from this as my appetite for more grows painfully ravenous.

  “How do you feel now?”

  “Happy,” I tell him and then drop my head with a sigh of embarrassment.

  “I want you.”

  I lift my head back up, and with apprehension in my eyes, tell him, “I don’t know how to do this.”

  “I don’t expect it to be easy, but I don’t want easy—I want you,” he says without reservation. “Come to my place tomorrow.”

  “Why?” I ask like a naïve schoolgirl and immediately feel stupid.

  “Because I want to fuck you,” he states boldly, sending a fire bolt between my thighs.

  Realization takes shape that this won’t be a relationship of romantic dates and getting-to-know-you strolls in the city. That’s not what this is. We both know that when I leave, I’m going home to my husband, and until I make a defining choice, is there really any point in seeking something that might not ever be? Plus, we passed taking it slow when we were getting off together in the first week.

  His cell chimes, and when he takes it from his pocket, I curse that phone for making Alec take his warm hands off me.

  “I gotta get back to work,” he says after checking his text. “Let me walk you to your car.”

  He helps me with my coat, and with his hand on the small of my back, he guides me outside. I show him where I’m parked and he walks me over to the driver’s side door but doesn’t open it.