Thursdays (The Wait Book 1)

by Harper Bentley

  “Okay.”

  Just as I was thinking I was some brazen harlot who’d led him to the dark side…again, he read my thoughts and asserted, “This isn’t your fault.” His hand came up and clutched the side of my neck. “You can’t help that you’re so goddamn tempting. But we can’t let ourselves get carried away.”

  “I know.”

  “Jesus. I sound like a whiny little bitch here.” He shook his head as his eyes pierced mine. “No more, got it?”

  I nodded. “Got it.” It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself, but I let it go.

  “Good.” He bent and touched his lips to mine. “Fucking sucks,” he mumbled against my mouth.

  “Yeah,” I murmured right back seeing his eyes crinkle at the sides as he smiled.

  He pulled back. “I’m thinking it sucks way less for you. You got off. I’ve still got a raging hard-on.”

  I couldn’t help but snort. “We’ll just say I owe you.”

  “You owe me all right. Big,” he agreed sardonically, giving me a look that made me flat-out laugh. “Yeah. It’s fuckin’ hysterical,” he retorted. Letting me go, he added, “Now, how about you fix us a plate while I try to disappear this thing.” I bit my lips trying not to laugh again as he headed to the bathroom. “Again, this is not funny,” he called right before I heard the bathroom door close.

  Chapter 26—Beck

  I again stayed until Birdie fell asleep then left.

  And as I dressed for work the next morning, I knew I was fucked. Everything I’d tried to justify in my mind as not being cheating was, and I damned well knew it.

  Fuck.

  Knowing what I had to do, I left the apartment and went to the hospital.

  “Hey, baby,” Sonya said when I came into her room. She was sitting in the chair by her bed, dressed in sweats and told me she’d taken a walk around her floor which was good. She’d put on about fifteen pounds from being in her bed all the time and she’d complained to me and anyone who would listen that she hated it. I hated it too, not because she looked bad, she didn’t, but I knew her weight was the catalyst that’d mostly driven her to take her drugs.

  Dr. Schmidt came in just then. “Good morning,” he said, coming over to shake my hand.

  “Morning,” I mumbled.

  He looked down at Sonya. “How’re you feeling?”

  “Good,” she answered giving him a bright smile. “It felt good to get out.”

  “Good for you.” He smiled back. Then he looked at me putting his hand on my shoulder. “We’re still waiting. Hopefully, it’ll be soon and she can be well on her way to recovery.” I nodded and he turned and gave Sonya a wink. “Okay, just checking in. Make sure to hook your monitor back soon.” He shook my hand again and left.

  I pulled up the other chair to face hers and sat. “Let’s hope we get you fixed up soon,” I said, noticing she didn’t give me the bright smile she’d given him. Jesus. I guess my look must’ve turned grim.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  I had to do this. Had to get it out there. She had to know. The guilt of it all was killing me and I was tired of playing this shitty game of going behind her back. “I’ve met someone.”

  She huffed out a laugh. “Wh-what?” she stammered.

  I nodded slowly not knowing what else to say.

  She scrunched her face up as she tried not to cry. Then swallowing hard, she glanced at me. “Do you…do you love her?”

  I let out a breath. God. Hardest fucking thing I’d ever had to say. “Yes.”

  She stood quickly, breathing hard, and tried getting past me. I stood too, telling her she needed to sit back down and hook up to the monitor.

  Her answer? She slapped the shit out of me.

  Of course, I deserved it. But that wasn’t my concern right then.

  “You need to get in bed, Sonya,” I ordered.

  “Don’t fucking tell me what to do, you asshole,” she snapped.

  I deserved that too.

  I watched as her eyes filled with tears. “You’re cheating on me?”

  I ran a hand over my face. “We haven’t really done anything.” I looked at her feeling like the dick I was. “Yet.”

  Yep. Guilt. The great equalizer. Gotta love it.

  She let out a sarcastic laugh as the tears fell. “And yet I’m the bad one here when you’re doing the same fucking thing!”

  I shook my head. “No. I said we haven’t done anything.” Yeah. Not really.

  “So you haven’t fucked the cunt yet, huh?”

  Jesus. I grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to sit on her bed. Then grabbing a wire of an electrode, I stated, “Start putting these on.” I handed it to her.

  As the tears streamed down her face, she lifted her sweatshirt and tried attaching the pads. When I tried helping, she swatted my hand away and hissed, “Go fuck yourself, Beck.”

  You got it. I deserved that one too.

  “Good morning!” Gina bellowed coming in the door.

  Great.

  “Hey, Gina,” I mumbled.

  When she saw Sonya crying, she frowned then looked to me for an answer, but of course I had nothing. She came over and started helping attach the pads and I backed away, watching as Sonya cried and Gina looked perplexed.

  Shit.

  “I’ve gotta get to work. I’ll, uh, come by after,” I stated.

  “D-don’t bother,” Sonya sobbed.

  Christ.

  I left the room feeling like the worst human being on the fucking planet.

  That night I texted Birdie what had happened and that I was staying home. She understood.

  Thursday night I sat across from Birdie, staring at her. She’d come in early, so we’d talked a little, but now Charles was speaking.

  I’d felt like a prick since confessing to Sonya, deservedly so, but when I’d seen Birdie, everything had become right again. I knew that as Birdie and I got to know each other more, there’d probably be things about her that would irritate me, as I’d have things about me that annoyed her which was only natural. It was then I guessed that that was what love did to a person. It made you fall hard at the beginning, so when the time came, you found you could tolerate the bad. And I looked forward to finding out what those things would be with Birdie.

  As I watched her, my mind wandered to places I knew were wrong but God help me, I had it fucking bad for her.

  I envisioned myself coming home from a long day at work to find her cooking dinner.

  “Hey, baby,” she’d say, turning and smiling as she set the table.

  I’d stalk to her, putting my hand in the middle of her back and bending her to lie chest to the table. Then smoothing my hands down the sides of her silk blouse, I’d make sure to caress her breasts at the sides making her gasp. My hands would continue their journey down her hips over the pencil skirt she was wearing, down to the bottom of it where I’d grab it at the hem and hitch it up over her hips.

  She wouldn’t have on panties. Fuck.

  I knew she’d have a spectacular ass and I’d put both hands on her cheeks, squeezing, then I’d smack one with my palm.

  “Beck!” she’d cry out with a surprised giggle.

  I’d kneel behind her spreading her ass cheeks, then lean in and put my mouth on her already dripping pussy, licking, sucking making her moan. She’d come hard and I’d lap up her juices, taking everything she gave me. Then standing, I’d turn her to lie on her back, pulling her legs up and setting her high-heeled feet on the table so I could look at her throbbing pussy, wet and ready for me. Unzipping my pants, I’d pull out my cock and run it through her slickness.

  “You ready for me, baby?” I’d say.

  “God, yes,” she’d whimper, waiting for me to fill her so fu—

  “Mr. Griffin?”

  “Huh?” I looked around and all eyes were on me. My eyes hit Birdie who was smirking back and I knew she’d known what I’d been thinking.

  Jesus.

  “What was the que
stion?” I asked innocently looking at Charles.

  “We were going around the table and saying one word that came to mind when we received the bad news about our loved one,” he clued me in.

  “Fuck,” I murmured quietly as I thought of a word.

  “That works!” he said. “Angie? You have a word?” he asked the woman next to me.

  I glanced at Birdie who was biting her lips trying not to laugh and I raised an eyebrow in warning. She covered her mouth to keep herself from laughing out loud. If she only knew what I wanted to do to her she wouldn’t be acting so smug.

  “So, what were you thinking?” Birdie asked afterward, playfully knocking her shoulder into mine as we walked to the elevator.

  I cut my eyes to her and replied, “You couldn’t handle it.”

  She snorted. “I’m sure I could, Mr. Griffin,” she said with a chuckle looking up at me.

  I winked at her and she took my hand as we got off the elevator before we walked through the hospital lobby. “Pie and coffee?” I asked.

  “You know, that’s what we did the night we met!” I heard a voice call from behind us.

  Birdie and I turned around and there Sonya stood wearing another sweat suit, her hair a mess, breathing heavily, eyes brimming with tears. She’d been waiting on us.

  Fuck!

  “Yeah. He took me for pie and coffee. I guess that’s his great seduction plan,” Sonya announced. “Better watch it, though, or he’ll dump you too. All it takes is one little flaw and then he’ll leave you just like he left me.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment not believing this shit was happening. Birdie dropped my hand as Sonya continued.

  “Oh, you’re beautiful,” she declared, walking up to us and looking at Birdie. “Now you’re what I think Beck’s always been looking for. Look at you, all thin and perfect.” Her eyes came up to mine as she kept talking to Birdie. “Of course, I don’t see how you’d want him. I mean, a man who leaves his wife when she’s in the hospital and could die is a real catch.” She looked back at Birdie. “Don’t you think?”

  “I-I’ve got to go,” Birdie said before spinning on her heel and heading out the front doors.

  I looked back at my wife. “Jesus, Sonya,” I muttered at her self-satisfied smile then taking her by the arm I led her to the elevator and up to her room.

  Chapter 27—Birdie

  I called Jaden on the cab ride back to my apartment and told her what’d happened.

  “Good lord, Birdie. That’s awful,” she replied.

  “I know,” I whispered. “I feel like complete shit.”

  “That’s pretty rough. God.”

  “Yes, it was. You know what’s weird? All along I’ve known he had a wife, but she didn’t become real until tonight when I saw her,” I explained.

  “Yeah. I understand.”

  “Seeing her looking so distraught, J. I felt so bad for her. I’m a terrible person.” I got choked up as I said, “A-and I went by to see Mason this morning. They said he’s not doing very well. He’s not…recovering as quickly as they thought. Oh, God.” I started crying.

  “Breathe, Birdie. You’ve got so much going on right now. I know this is all so much for you. For anyone. I’m so sorry, honey.”

  I gasped out a sob. “It is. It’s all too much, J. I-I don’t know if I can take much more.”

  “I know, sweetie.”

  I cried for a moment more as she waited for me to catch my breath. When I’d calmed down a bit, I said, “Beck looked devastated. You should’ve seen his face. God. Why has all this happened?”

  “I don’t know, B. When it rains, it pours. And you’re getting soaked right about now, honey, and again, all I can say is I’m so sorry,” she answered softly.

  I hadn’t told her about Beck and me yet, about our promise to be together, so I took a deep breath and whispered, “What do I do now? I-I love him.”

  I heard her sigh. “Oh, Bird. I don’t know. I honestly don’t.”

  “Yeah,” I remarked, as clueless as she was.

  “Do you need me to come over?”

  “No. It’s late. I’ll be okay. Thank you, though.”

  We hung up and I sat staring out the window thinking about what’d happened not ten minutes before.

  Beck’s wife was beautiful. I mean, she hadn’t been at her best at that moment, I was sure. But she was pretty. Of course, she was. He wouldn’t be with someone who wasn’t attractive. And she’d been so hurt. And I was partly to blame.

  Tears ran down my cheeks as I got out of the cab and made my way up to my apartment. God. I was such a bad person.

  An hour later, I’d just gotten into bed when there was a knock at my door.

  “Hey,” I said when I let Beck in. I knew it’d be him.

  He looked bad, as if he’d been wringing his hair with his hands, trying to pull it out.

  “Birdie, I’m sorry.”

  We sat on the sofa. “I’m sorry too. I feel…terrible.”

  He stood and started pacing, his hands once again going into his hair.

  “I don’t know what the fuck she was thinking,” he growled. “She’s not supposed to be out of her fucking room that long. She shouldn’t have been without her monitor. Fuck!”

  I stood and got in his path making him stop. “I’m so sorry, honey.”

  “Yeah,” he said, looking down at me for a moment before continuing his walking back and forth.

  I watched as he passed me several times not knowing what to say. “Are you hungry? We could order Thai and have it delivered,” I offered. He stopped his pacing and looked at me. “We could get satay and dumplings from that one place. It’s really good.”

  His look turned to disbelief. “You fucking kidding me right now?”

  I frowned. What had I said wrong?

  He huffed out a laugh. “My wife’s fucking dying. She’s dying, Birdie, and you’re concerned about fucking dumplings? Jesus Christ!”

  Wait. What? Was he serious right now?

  “Are you serious?” I asked, looking at him incredulously.

  “Fuck yes, I’m serious! I’m dealing with all this bullshit and you’re wanting to order out?”

  I knew he was stressed and I should’ve let it go, but screw it. He was hitting way below the belt now.

  “You don’t think I’ve got my own bullshit I’m dealing with? But you don’t see me yelling at you over it! This has got to be some kind of a joke!” I started crying again. Well, just great.

  “Yeah, it’s fucking hilarious,” he deadpanned. Then I watched as his face went hard. “Look. This has been great and all but I can’t do it any longer.”

  I stared at him for a moment before speaking, wondering if I’d heard him correctly. “What?” I whispered as I aimlessly tucked a piece of hair behind my ear.

  “I…just…can’t,” he choked out, hands on his hips and eyes to the ceiling.

  “Wh-what’re you saying, Beck?” It felt like my voice was echoing inside my brain, like it wasn’t even my voice at all.

  He blew out a breath and looked at me. “It’s too much, Birdie.”

  “What’s too much?” By God, if he was breaking things off, I wanted him to say it. And as what was left of my heart dissolved, I waited to hear the words.

  “I love you,” he answered, his eyes red. I watched as he swallowed hard. “I’ll always love you, Birdie.”

  I knew what he was going to say. I should’ve run out of there and never looked back because I knew if I heard the words, I’d die right there on the spot.

  And yet I waited. Stupid, stupid me just…waited.

  He breathed in through his nose and let it out. “I-I can’t.”

  I don’t even know when I began to move to the door to let him out. My feet were moving before my brain had engaged. But as I brushed by him, he reached out and grabbed me, pulling me into his arms.

  “I love you,” he whispered, his mouth at the top of my head where I felt his hot breath.

  He was crushing m
e and I had to get away. I couldn’t breathe he was holding me so tightly. But then I realized I was the one crushing myself to him as I held on to him as tightly as I could. Clung to him, not wanting to let him go. Not wanting him to leave me.

  And when he finally removed his arms from around me, when he moved away and kept moving away, I’d never felt the cold before like I did at that moment.

  I’d never felt so alone.

  So completely and utterly abandoned.

  “Goodbye, Birdie,” he turned spoke from the open door.

  And he was gone.

  I think I slept.

  I don’t know.

  My brain had shut down.

  So who knew.

  When my alarm went off, I got up and relied on my body knowing what it had to do.

  Brush my teeth.

  Brush my hair.

  Powder, blush, mascara, lip gloss.

  Skirt. Blouse. Shoes.

  Purse.

  Keys.

  Coat.

  Office address given to the cabbie.

  Work.

  Home.

  Couch.

  Sleep.

  Repeat.

  Repeat.

  Repeat.

  For once I was glad for routine things because I didn’t have to engage; I just let my body do what it knew to do.

  I didn’t answer my phone. Didn’t even look at it. I’d left it on my nightstand after Beck left and that’s where it’d stayed.

  Tuesday morning, I was groggy, and purely out of habit, I guessed, answered my phone when it buzzed, but when I heard Irene’s voice, I sat up quickly.

  “Birdie? Honey?”

  “Yeah, I’m here,” I said, my voice gravelly. “What time is it?”

  “It’s five-thirty a.m., dear. I’ve been trying to call you since yesterday. I’ve got some bad news.”

  “What is it?” My body was sore and stiff as if I’d been beaten, and when I steeled myself to hear what she was going to say I let out a groan at how terrible I felt.

  She sniffed. “Mason has gone into a coma. Th-they don’t think he’s going to make it.”

  Before I knew it, I’d flown out of bed and was getting dressed. “What? No! I didn’t get to see him yet! He can’t!” I screamed as I tugged on my jeans.