She

by HC Warner

  When his meeting with Marcus ended, I walked him to the lift, again making sure to walk slightly in front of him so that he could admire me from behind. By now, my heart rate had calmed slightly and I felt more in command of my emotions. I pressed the call button and turned back towards him with a knowing smile.

  He returned the gesture. ‘So, Bella … would you like to have dinner with me tonight?’

  I raised an eyebrow and shook my head slowly. ‘I can’t. I have plans.’

  He smiled and raised an eyebrow back at me, already enjoying the sport. ‘Cancel them.’

  Part of me wanted to tell him to get lost for his arrogance but already the attraction between us was too strong, too magnetic to resist and we both knew it. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

  The lift arrived and Peter stepped in but held his hand over the door to stop it closing. He reached into his pocket with his other hand and pulled out a card with a number written on it. He fixed me with his sexiest stare. ‘Here’s my number. Call me.’

  I took the card and turned as the lift doors swished shut. As I made my way back to my office, I was unable to stop smiling.

  Marcus came out of his office and walked over to mine. ‘Well, you seem to have an admirer …’

  My smile widened as I looked up at him. ‘Do you think so?’

  ‘I know so.’ Marcus came and perched on the edge of my desk, looking at me contemplatively.

  ‘Are you jealous?’ I teased, leaning back in my chair and pretending to examine a nail.

  He grinned. ‘Of course. I’m ragingly, furiously jealous!’

  I laughed. ‘Good.’

  ‘You know,’ he began, making tiny circles on the desk with his fingernail. ‘If things had been different …’

  ‘Shhhh!’ I interrupted him sharply. ‘Don’t even go there.’ We both knew that he and I were about sex and nothing more. He would never have left his wife and I would never have wanted him to. I liked him but not that much. He was a bit of fun. Nothing more.

  ‘So did he ask you out?’

  ‘He did.’

  ‘And when are you seeing him?’ Marcus’s tone was back to playful and I was grateful that he wasn’t being possessive.

  ‘Tonight,’ I replied, mentally running through a checklist of preparations I needed to make.

  ‘Well,’ he said, standing up. ‘All I can say is, “lucky him”!’

  Peter suggested we meet for dinner at a beautiful hotel restaurant not far from my office. He was waiting at a discreet table in the corner and stood up as I reached him, taking my hand and kissing me on both cheeks, so that I caught the scent of his beautiful cologne. I wasn’t the only one who had been busy making preparations.

  ‘Wow – great view,’ I said, gesturing towards the cityscape of London, laid out hundreds of metres below us.

  Peter kept his eyes firmly fixed on me. ‘It certainly is.’

  The waiter appeared with two glasses of champagne and placed them before us. I looked up and met Peter’s eye. ‘How do you know I drink?’

  He tilted his head to one side in surprise. ‘Don’t you?’

  I thought about lying, just to show that I was different from the others. But I was desperate for a drink. ‘Yes,’ I said, picking up my flute and reaching across to clink it with his. ‘I do. I’m just teasing you.’

  Over dinner, we chatted non-stop, with almost every line of conversation loaded with hidden meaning and sexual inuendo. After coffee, Peter sat back in his chair and fixed me with what I would soon learn was his ‘come to bed’ expression. ‘So, beautiful Bella … how would you like this evening to end?’

  I mirrored his actions and leaned back in my chair, too. ‘Have you booked a room?’

  A flicker of uncertainty passed over Peter’s face and he hesitated before replying. ‘Should I have done?’

  ‘It’s not really a question of whether you should have done or not … it’s more a question of whether you did?’ I smiled to soften any sting from my words.

  Again, Peter hesitated, before apparently reaching a decision. ‘Yes,’ he said, putting his napkin on the table and standing up. ‘Of course I did.’

  I stood up, too, excitement rendering me momentarily weak-legged. ‘Of course you did.’

  He reached out to take my hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world and we walked towards the lifts as if we were a proper couple. He didn’t seem at all concerned about being spotted with me, which was such an unusual experience that I felt nervous about sex for the first time ever. This man was already so different from anyone else I had had a relationship with that I wanted it to be special.

  He led me in to the sumptuously furnished, modern suite, which had a glass wall with a view over the whole of London that was so magnificent it was dizzying. I walked towards it and gazed out at the glittering spectacle laid out before me. ‘This is beautiful,’ I sighed.

  Peter came and stood behind me, putting his hands on the tops of my bare arms. It was a simple gesture but it was also deliciously erotic. ‘So are you,’ he whispered. I continued to look out at the London skyline as his hands moved from my arms to my hips and slowly moved lower. He stopped when he reached the hem of my top and slid it smoothly and deliberately up over my head. Then he unzipped my skirt and let it fall to the floor.

  I heard him inhale sharply when he realized that I was completely naked underneath. I hadn’t had time to go out and buy new underwear so I decided to let my body do all the talking. It had never failed me yet and judging by Peter’s reaction, it wouldn’t fail me now.

  He pushed me gently towards the glass, so that my body was pressed up against it, as he planted delicate, butterfly kisses all over my skin. My nipples hardened against the cold glass and I let out a small moan. Peter unzipped his trousers and slid inside me in one fluid movement, causing me to gasp with shock. The element of surprise, the sensation of the glass, the view and the rhythm of his thrusts was too much and I orgasmed instantly, my body shuddering with the sensation.

  Peter leaned forward and kissed my neck as he continued to thrust, this time more sensuously, sending crackles of electricity surging through me. He increased momentum so that his breath was coming in short pants until he finally came with a long groan.

  We stood locked together for a few moments, both breathing hard, Peter’s hands pressed with mine against the glass. ‘Wow,’ he said, leaning his head against the back of my neck. ‘That was amazing.’

  I smiled and turned so that I was facing him. He looked down at me and stroked my face tenderly. ‘You are the most beautiful woman I have ever set eyes on,’ he said, shaking his head slightly. ‘I can’t believe you just walked into my life when I was least expecting it.’

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss. ‘Strictly speaking,’ I said, as I pulled away. ‘You walked into mine.’

  Peter grinned. ‘Shut up and kiss me again.’

  The rest of the night was gloriously sleepless. In my dreams, I was happy and smiling in a way I hadn’t felt in the real world for as long as I could remember. I would half-awaken to find Peter’s strong hands stroking my back, my legs or my breasts, his seemingly insatiable sexual appetite only temporarily sated, as time and again we would writhe together before collapsing; our glistening bodies entwined. During those moments, I realized I was both fully relaxed and smiling broadly. It was as if I’d finally found what I’d been searching for and I didn’t think I had ever felt so happy.

  Our affair gathered pace more quickly than I think either of us was expecting. He rented an apartment in the city and stayed up at least two nights every week, which meant that we could spend a lot of time together. Usually, I would go to the apartment after work and be waiting by the time he arrived at around 6 p.m. His appetite for sex was voracious and he never seemed to be able to get enough of me.

  Sex was a huge part of our relationship, but over the weeks and months, we grew closer and closer, until I was deeply, hopelessly, in love with him.
The age difference didn’t seem to bother either of us and although any amateur psychologist would probably have suggested that I was trying to fill the gap left by my father, I knew it was more than that. It was a meeting of minds, as well as bodies and everything about him made me happy.

  I had never been in love before and felt almost scared by the way it unbalanced me. I was normally so in control of my emotions that it was unsettling and even slightly worrying that I couldn’t control the way I felt about him. I had never let myself go in the past because I wanted to protect myself from being hurt. But with Peter, I was powerless to stop myself from falling for him.

  It had never bothered me with other lovers when they talked about their wives and families but whenever Peter mentioned Jo and his children, I began to bristle. I wished he would either be horrible about them or never bring the subject up. But he seemed unaware of the effect his words were having on me and would talk with pride about how Emma was going to take on the world with her incredible career, or that Ben and his girlfriend had spent the weekend with him and Jo and that Jo was such an incredible cook.

  Eventually, I snapped. ‘Well, if your life is so bloody perfect, what the hell are you doing here, in bed, with me?’

  There was a shocked pause, as Peter digested my words, before easing himself up into a sitting position. He looked down at me and sighed deeply. ‘I don’t know how to answer that one. Because I like you very much. Because you’re beautiful, funny and interesting, I suppose.’

  I propped myself up on one elbow. ‘Hmmm …’

  Peter stroked my hair contemplatively. ‘I know it doesn’t justify what I’m doing. I know that it’s wrong … But I just don’t want to give you up.’

  ‘Good!’ I didn’t want to scare him off by getting too heavy. I gazed up at him, feeling dissatisfied. I wanted him to tell me that I was his grand passion; that he felt the same way about me as I felt about him but I knew deep down that it wouldn’t happen. I needed to think of a way to make him realize that he couldn’t live without me. A way to make him commit to me properly.

  I had been on the pill for years and decided that maybe now was the time to give my body a rest. After all, it wasn’t supposed to be good for you to be on it for too long, was it? I didn’t need to mention it to Peter, who had always clearly just assumed that I was taking precautions – because he certainly wasn’t.

  So for the next couple of months I stopped taking it. Because of the number of years I had been on it, I assumed that it would take a while for me to become fertile again. But I couldn’t have been more wrong. When my period didn’t arrive, I put it down to my body taking time to regulate itself. But when my breasts also began to feel tender and grow at an alarming rate, I realized there may be another explanation.

  I bought a two-pack pregnancy testing kit in my lunch hour and sat on the loo shaking, as I waited for the result to arrive. When the positive sign appeared in the window of the first one, I looked at it in disbelief, before ripping open the second test and repeating the process. Again, the positive result sign appeared, a little faint, presumably because it was so early but still clear enough to be sure. I stared at it for several minutes, trying to process how I felt. I was shocked and scared, but also excited and thrilled.

  I was going to be a mother. The words kept going round and round in my brain. And not only that, I was going to be the mother of Peter’s baby. It was as if the love I felt for him was already suffusing the little life just beginning to take shape inside me and tears of pure joy began to roll down my cheeks. I had never really had anyone who loved me unconditionally. Maybe my dad, but he was long gone. My mum probably did love me, too, but she was more scared of me than anything. This baby would be the first time I had known that pure, unbreakable love that I had always craved.

  I returned to my desk just as Marcus was coming back from his lunch. He stopped short when he saw me. ‘Hey, you OK?’

  I nodded, not daring myself to speak in case I either burst into tears again or blurted out my precious, wonderful secret.

  ‘You look … different,’ he said, watching me with a frown.

  ‘Different how?’ I managed, trying to look busy, as I scrolled through my emails.

  ‘Not sure. Just different.’

  I laughed. ‘OK. Well, I’m going to take that as a compliment, even though I’m not sure it is.’

  Marcus laughed back, before walking into his office. ‘Oh, it’s definitely a compliment.’

  I smiled to myself. I couldn’t wait to see Peter that night, to tell him the news. He would be shocked, of course. But once he got used to the idea, he would see that we worked as a couple and we could work as a family.

  The text came at around 4 p.m.

  Bella. I know this is the coward’s way out but I also know that it is the only way I can do it. I have loved our time together and you are a very special lady but I have to end our relationship. I am so sorry and I want to thank you for the incredible memories. I will never forget you. Be happy. Peter.

  It was the second shock I had had in one day but I reacted very differently to this one. I didn’t cry. I didn’t shake. I didn’t even feel angry. I was just serenely numb. It didn’t seem possible that it could be true. I hadn’t seen him for about ten days, which was slightly unusual but the last time we had been together, he had seemed, if anything, more intense than ever. He had looked deep into my eyes as we made love, as if he was trying to see into my soul and had held me afterwards as if he never wanted to let me go. So, with a surprisingly calm, steady hand, I replied: Let’s discuss tonight. Love, Bella x

  I finished work and made my way to the apartment as I usually did, still feeling absolutely certain that there was nothing to worry about. I knew Peter too well. He would take one look at me and we would pick up right where we’d left off. He was obviously having a crisis of guilt, probably after a holiday with Jo, but it would be forgotten the moment he set eyes on me, of that I felt sure.

  But when I arrived at the apartment block, something that I can only describe as a sixth sense meant my certainty began to waver. I took the lift to the fifth floor and took out my key. Even before I tried to put it in the lock, I knew it wouldn’t work. But I also couldn’t accept what was happening either, so I tried to force it, with greater and greater ferocity.

  Suddenly, the door flew open and a be-suited man, roughly the same age as me, with a handsome, haughty expression and blond curly hair, stood in front of me, looking furious. ‘What the bloody hell are you doing?’ he shouted, in a cut-glass accent that screamed public school wealth.

  I was rooted to the spot with shock, only now beginning to feel the creeping horror of realization that Peter might have actually gone. ‘My, er, my boyfriend lives here,’ I managed to stutter, even though my throat had dried completely.

  The look of anger melted away from the man’s face, to be replaced by something much, much worse – sympathy. ‘Right.’ He hesitated and ran his hand distractedly through his mane of blond curls. ‘Well, I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this, but the guy who rented this flat before has moved out and now I live here …’ He grimaced, looking embarrassed. ‘I’m sorry.’

  All at once, every ounce of adrenaline left my body and I could feel my legs start to give way.

  ‘Whoa, hey … take it easy now.’ The man stepped over the threshold and caught me under my arms, easily supporting my weight. ‘Take some deep breaths,’ he said, as my knees buckled. I did as I was told. ‘Look, do you want to come in for a minute?’ he offered, his tone gentle. ‘I can get you a glass of water.’

  I really, really didn’t want to go inside, but at the same time I didn’t feel that I had the strength to stand up properly and walk away either, so I nodded mutely and allowed him to escort me into the flat. He deposited me on a bar stool and opened one of the cupboards to take out a glass. I looked around me in a stunned silence, my brain still unable to take in what I was seeing. All Peter’s furniture and belongings had gone, to be replaced
by a whole new interior.

  I took the glass of water the man offered with a shaking hand and sipped it gratefully. ‘How long?’ I whispered between gulps. ‘How long ago did you move in?’

  The man leaned back against the worktop and eyed me with concern. ‘At the weekend. I think, um, the other guy, moved out the week before.’

  I nodded. So when I was last here, Peter already knew that he would be moving out. That he would never be seeing me again. The intensity that I had mistakenly thought was love, was actually him saying goodbye. How could he have been so treacherous? The betrayal felt like being stabbed in the stomach repeatedly. I swallowed the last of the water and took a deep breath. ‘Thank you. I’m sorry if I gave you a shock but …’

  The guy shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. ‘Not at all. It sounds like you’re the one who’s had a shock. Don’t worry about it, honestly.’

  I could feel my eyes filling with tears, so I slid off the bar stool and picked up my handbag. ‘Thank you for being so kind. I’ll go now.’

  The guy nodded. ‘Are you sure you’re going to be OK? You still look a bit pale …’

  ‘I’m fine.’ I walked to the door, now just desperate to get out and away from this place.

  The man followed and opened the door for me. ‘OK, well … goodbye. And, sorry.’

  ‘Goodbye. Thanks again.’ I walked out with my back straight, trying to muster as much dignity as I could.

  As the door closed behind me, a huge sob escaped as if it had been trapped inside me for ever and a torrent of tears began to fall. I stepped into the lift and crouched into a ball in the corner, rocking back and forward to try to ease the pain. I couldn’t believe that this man who I had loved so much, who I had imagined building a future with, whose baby I was carrying, had excised me from his life with such clinical precision that he may as well have killed me using a scalpel.

  I walked back towards my own small, scruffy rented flat on the south side of the river, fighting my way through the throngs of commuters hurrying home to enjoy the early spring sunshine that seemed to taunt me. I stood on Tower Bridge and looked down into the murky brown depths of the Thames. It would be so easy to vault over the barrier and be swallowed up for ever by its muddy, swirling waters.