Coming Around Again

by Billy London

  The night they’d had together barely after those words left his lips remained forever scorched in her brain. When she was feeling extra low, she’d picture the scene. Somehow the dining table would be set up in the living room where her lover would be tied to a chair and Niels would press the length of his cock inside her, turning her head so her eyes were on her lover while her husband savagely pounded into her. Guaranteed an orgasm within five minutes.

  For all his talk on voyeurism, Niels would never let anyone see her in the midst of a sexual thrall. Her body had belonged entirely to him. Her pleasure was his to control. And he knew she would never let any man even approach her for the fantasy to be anything but that—a fantasy. God, if she wasn’t ready to fuck. Looking at the man opposite her, she accepted it wasn’t going to be with him.

  She and Niels had talked about infidelity early on in their relationship. Watching a film in the muted light of his bedroom, her head balanced on his thigh as the film played on the screen, she confessed the idea of cheating was utterly alien to her.

  “You’ve never been cheated on?” he asked her, so incredulous his fingers stilled in her hair.

  She shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

  “Oh, I see. You always cut out of the relationship first.”

  Stella bit her lip. “Maybe.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “It wouldn’t ever happen with you.”

  “Why are you so sure? I may one day forget to bring you the right type of flowers or take you to see the wrong film… Then my dreams would be shattered.”

  “How dramatic! But you’d definitely leave me before I ever left you.”

  He frowned down at her, a bemused smile on his face. “You sound certain. Why?”

  Because I’m madly in love with you, you plum! “Let’s watch the film, we’re talking through it. Good thing we didn’t see it at the cinema; we’d have been chucked out.”

  Niels left it alone and never raised it again. In hindsight, it was probably because he knew how she felt and he knew full well she was telling the truth. Now she wish she had taken a lover. Slept with someone else. At least that way she’d understand a little of why Niels had abandoned her.

  “Rash, would you mind dropping me home, please? I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

  The poor man scrambled for apologies for keeping her and paid the bill. As he drove her home, he made small talk and Stella tried to ignore her phone buzzing with text messages. Niels being belatedly proprietary about her.

  Rash pulled up into her driveway and turned to face her. “Thank you for tonight,” he beamed. “I feel like I did all the talking, though.”

  “I’m sorry. There’s a lot to think about. And it’s my first date since my divorce so…”

  “Of course! Of course.” He leaned toward her, lips puckered.

  “Okay, goodnight!” she trilled, picking up her bag and leaping out of the car. Closing the door to the house, she scrambled for her phone and saw all the messages from her damnable ex.

  Has he tried to touch you yet?

  I bet he’s boring the hell out of you.

  He’s not singing, is he?

  Where did he take you? His restaurant?

  She fired off a message of her own.

  God’s sake, Niels. There’s a little document called a Decree Absolute. Means you don’t get to interrupt my dates or insult them or me. Stop it. Pay attention to the two sneaky buggers you sired.

  As soon as she sent it, she wondered if she were being too harsh. The text message she received in return told her to leave the lion alone. No more taunting.

  I believe that means my progeny is safe from a Rash. Sense has prevailed. Let me know if you need satisfaction post-date. We’re good at that. Or rather we were.

  With a huff, she sent him a goodnight and went to bed. She lay in the middle of her mattress, staring up at the ceiling, eyes wide open. It took her another minute to concede defeat and hunt for her vibrator. She figured Niels owed her for ruining what could have been something simple and different.

  Unfortunately, thanks to Niels, every time she pictured Rash’s face, she pictured a bottle of antiseptic cream.

  Chapter Eleven

  Niels indicated for the director to go ahead of him, following the host to their table. He hated business lunches, but this one was essential. Seemed the only way he would obtain the contact for the wind turbines would be to talk Melinda Powell into the five-year agreement.

  Sleek blonde hair waved over Melinda’s back as she swayed toward their table. Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose for patience, Niels forced himself to follow the director.

  He smelled her perfume before he saw Stella. She’d worn Penhaligon’s for years and he’d bought it for her on several occasions. That scent haunted him frequently. It mingled with his regrets and the best times of his life.

  His wife looked at her most unattainably beautiful. In a black dress that sleekly skimmed her curves and her hair pinned with only a few curls trailing her temples, she drifted through the tables and came to a grinding halt when she saw him. His pulse threatened to choke him as he dragged a smile onto his face.

  “Hi,” she squeaked. Melinda stopped and turned back to Niels.

  “Something wrong?” Melinda asked.

  Stella’s gaze wandered to Melinda and no one else would have noticed, but Niels saw Stella’s embarrassment. The blush on her cheeks and the widening of her eyes spoke volumes to him. “Melinda Powell, this is Stella Strøm.”

  “Mrs. Strøm!” Melinda turned pink, but held out a hand in greeting. Stella gave it a brief shake before focusing her gaze on Niels once more.

  Even in the midst of their most difficult fights, he would visit places, restaurants and wonder how she would enjoy it, her reactions, what she would choose to eat and drink. Mostly how much she’d share with him and it made him miss her with a desperation that caused him physical agony.

  “Former,” Stella murmured. “No longer. Position vacant.”

  “What are you here for?” Niels asked instead, sensing Melinda’s increasing discomfort.

  “I’m just having a nice dinner with Wynne and Eden and Cara.”

  “Cara?”

  “Adeome. The one with the mouthy teenage girl who’s too smart for her own good?”

  That child made him ever so grateful that he didn’t have a girl. “What’s the occasion?”

  “Cara’s having a renewal ceremony with her husband. Twenty years married.”

  Bit fucking insensitive of Cara. “How nice for her.”

  “Actually, I thought it was a bit fucking insensitive given I’m a divorcee, but hey ho.” She turned and looked towards her table. “Well, I’d better get back. I just got up to use the loo and check on the babysitter.”

  He wanted to tell her she looked beautiful. But it wasn’t his place any more. “Nice to meet you,” Stella directed at Melinda and with a careless brush of his arm, she stepped around Niels for the ladies room.

  Almost frozen to the spot, he barely heard Melinda take in a gasping breath and blurt, “That was intense!”

  “Could have been worse,” he dismissed, directing for Melinda to reach their table. Sitting down, the blonde curled her hair over one shoulder.

  Biting down on her lip she ventured, “Have you been divorced for long?”

  “Melinda, I realise that meeting was entirely unexpected, but I would prefer we discuss what we came here to discuss. Wine?”

  Blushing furiously, she nodded. “Of course. Yes. That would be lovely.”

  His glass of wine did little to assuage his guilt for Stella’s current role. The dispirited divorcee who needed the pity and self-serving sympathy of others. He couldn’t continue to live like this. Something had to change.

  ***

  Stella sat on the closed seat of the toilet and stared sightlessly at the black painted wood of the door. He’d moved on. From her. Already. As if their life together meant nothing.

&n
bsp; Anger burned in her chest. How dare he mock her! How dare he forget that renewal ceremony? Something the Adeome family had planned for a long time. How dare he casually introduce her to some flimsy blonde with his name attached to hers? As if she was still branded by him…and goddamn it, she was! Fury burned in her chest and she searched the cubicle for a way to get it out.

  Without warning she slammed her fist into the paper holder. Then again and again until the metal dislodged from the wall and clattered to the ground.

  A small knock forced her to gather herself together. “Miss? Are you all right?”

  “Yes!” Stella’s voice sounded reedy and unsteady. “Yes, I’m fine. I just… The paper dispenser has broken.”

  She stood up and unlocked the door. The toilet attendant edged around Stella to look at the paper dispenser on the floor, and her gaze went back to Stella’s face. Blinking with innocence, Stella simply stepped to the basins and washed her hands, thoroughly dried them, and returned to the table.

  Eden leaned over to her and said, “Did I just see Niels?”

  Wynne choked on her outrageously expensive glass of red wine. “Did you? Are we supposed to chase after him and make him pay?”

  “Don’t be silly.” Stella dismissed her friends’ concern, tucking herself into the table and draping her napkin over her lap. “There’s no need. You know Niels and I can’t fight because of the boys.”

  Cara snorted. “I fight with Marcus for any reason going. I had a fight with him because he bought me flowers and put them in the wrong damn vase.”

  “That’s because you fight with him to get banged,” Eden reminded her. “This is different.” Stella sent Eden a sharp look. “Fuck, sorry, can’t say it. Client confidentiality. But it’s taken them long enough to be on speaking terms, so let’s not ruin it by pretending we can take him on.”

  “Only takes a bottle to the back of the head,” Wynne said with a shrug. “Who was the blonde?”

  Stella lifted tense shoulders. “No idea. Not my business any more. Now what else do you need for this renewal ceremony?”

  Cara made a face. “Marcus wanted to invite Niels…”

  Stella dug her nails into her palms under the table. “It’s entirely up to him. Like I said. It’s not my business anymore.”

  ***

  Nine years married

  “If you do not stop jumping up and down your bed, Daniel and William Strøm, you are not getting a single present!”

  Niels heard the bellowing command from his office and looked up from the mortgage document burning holes in his eyes. Between the emails from his solicitors and the threats from someone he used to consider a friend, his children’s seventh birthday party was supposed to be something nice. A lovely distraction from the coming Armageddon. Not according to his wife.

  Without knocking, Stella threw open the door to the office and said, “The bouncing castle people are stuck on the M4. God knows why or how. A few parents are calling now asking if they can bring their kids and I need to get more soft drinks, because someone has decided they don’t like Robinsons anymore.”

  Niels blinked patiently. “What would you like me to do?”

  “Help? Keep an eye on your spawn so I can go out?”

  “Of course.” He stood up and made to cross the room, kiss Stella goodbye, but she already dismissed him with a nod and flew out of the door. As soon as the door closed, the twins began their riot of energy. Niels deliberately and noisily made his way up the stairs and he heard a gaggle of shhhs and dad’s coming.

  Leaning in on the doorway of his son’s bedroom, Niels cleared his throat. “I believe there are two gentlemen turning seven years old today.”

  Danny popped his head from under the wood slat of his bunk bed. “Gentlemen?”

  “I refer to a Daniel Strøm? And a William Strøm? Have you heard of those two gentlemen?”

  Will giggled. “We’re not gentlemen!”

  Niels crouched down and pulled Danny from under the bed by his arms, then caught Will by his ankles to do the same. Standing them side by side, Niels wondered where the time had gone. It seemed moments ago they’d been eighteen months old and mimicking each other with “I dunno!” A blink of an eye would pass, and they’d be eighteen years old. Asking for money and to borrow his car. Good lord, the horror.

  “Happy birthday, my beautiful, brilliant gentlemen. May you eventually find wisdom in silence and calm, and may you never lose your joy for laughter and for fun.”

  Danny and Will looked at each other in confusion. Niels sighed. “You say thank you, Daddy, and you give me a hug.”

  “Thank you, Daddy!” they chorused and both threw their arms around his neck. Love overwhelmed him and he held them tighter to him. He had to do everything possible to keep them safe. To keep them secure. That was everything.

  “Now, your friends are coming along very soon,” Niels said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I need you to get washed and dressed. What are you wearing?”

  “Don’t you mean what will Muma let us wear?” Will said solemnly.

  “It’s your birthday. You wear what you want today.”

  “Pirates!” they claimed. How in unison they were. All they seemed to do was share a glance or touch the other and they knew what the other wanted immediately. A brighter, deeper version of the connection he used to enjoy with his wife.

  “You go and get washed, and I’ll even do the eyeliner for you.”

  By the time Stella returned, Niels had filled thirty party bags, laid out the sandwiches, fired up the grill for the barbecue and marinated the meat. The boys were playing Jack Sparrow and Blackbeard, complete with black eyeliner and fake beards. Stella looked from the boys to Niels and groaned, “How am I going to get that crap off tonight?”

  “How about you don’t worry about it, and you relax?” he suggested lightly.

  “I can’t, I’ve got…”

  “What? The cake is done, the bouncy castle guys are ten minutes away now, I’m ready to grill, we have all the plastic cutlery possible. Your children are dressed and ready to meet their guests. What else do you need to do?”

  Stella rolled her eyes. “Well, when you put it like that. Well done.”

  “Here to serve, ma’am,” he mocked.

  She put a hand on her hip. “What? What’s that for?”

  “Not to worry, my dearest wife.” He returned to mixing a large salad for the barbecue. “Return to your list of to-dos.”

  “Well, since you’ve done all of them, you smart bugger, I’ll sit down and have a glass of rose lemonade.”

  She patted him on the shoulder as she passed him and poured herself a drink. Niels tapped his fingers on the marble top, searching for patience. “Thank you wouldn’t go amiss.”

  “For doing what you’re supposed to?” Stella asked, eyebrows raised. “They’re your children, too. Welcome to parenthood. A thankless job.”

  “Yes, you’re not going to get a thank-you from present-obsessed seven-year-olds. But you are an adult. It’s not a phrase that should be beyond your vast capabilities.”

  Her mouth worked for a moment. “Why are you trying to start an argument?”

  God’s sake. “Forget it.” Out of the corner of his eye, as he viciously chopped cucumbers, he saw her reach out toward him. Thankfully, the doorbell rang, and they neatly sidestepped what would have been a minor war.

  The rest of the party played out like a perfect film. Guests complimented Stella and Niels on their home, their hospitality, and moreover, their children. Stella took the compliments with a serene smile that had been noticeably absent for a long time.

  Niels felt surreal. How this happened at all, felt beyond his understanding, his expectation. At one point, he sat in the bedroom for five minutes of peace, only for some children to barge in and demand the bathroom. He led them to it and back downstairs where another toilet was situated for their use. No peace. Not a moment to relax and enjoy the looks of excitement and gratitude on his son’s faces when they
opened their multitude of gifts. No swift, illicit kiss of appreciation and love from his wife. Only sighs that spelled her exasperation and impatience.

  By the end of the party, there was little cleaning to do, as Niels had kept himself busy by cleaning as he went. As promised, he carefully removed the eyeliner from each child, cleaned their teeth and put them to bed. Despite the enormous amounts of sugar they had both consumed, Will and Danny obliged him by falling straight to sleep. Stella locked up the house and breezed a goodnight. He showered in contemplation. When he slid into bed, Stella had on an eye mask and an awful patterned pyjama set.

  “Was there something I didn’t do today?” he asked, bruised and irritated by her dismissal. They still shared a bed; the least she could do was face him.

  She lifted the mask. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You’ve been annoyed with me since this morning. What didn’t I do?”

  “Why you want to have an argument with me at this time of the night…” she complained, lifting a hand to pull the mask back down. He stopped her.

  “It’s not an argument. I haven’t raised my voice. I haven’t insulted you. I’ve asked you a simple question and you don’t want to answer me. The fortress of Stella can afford to open the gate a little.”

  Guilt pulled at her features briefly, and she reached for the mask. “Not now. Let’s sleep on it. Tomorrow it’ll be irrelevant.”

  With that, she turned her back on him and apparently went to sleep.

  For a long time, Niels stayed awake. Recalling every moment in his marriage that led to his wife refusing to entertain a simple dialogue with him. Something needed to be done. To protect his family from the worst. Stella could manage alone. At every turn she made it obvious he was surplus to requirements. She didn’t need him. And she certainly didn’t need him to bring the thunderstorm of complications heading their way.

  He could either save his home and children, or save his marriage.

  His plans couldn’t accommodate saving both.

  Chapter Twelve