Break Point

by Rachel Blaufeld

  “That actually sounds wonderful,” I murmured.

  “Really?” His thumb moved back and forth over mine.

  “Really.”

  “Good, we’ll do it. First, let’s eat dinner tonight.” He stepped out of the car and opened my door before paying the attendant.

  The restaurant was called Abba, and it was an Israeli-style bistro. The outside was fashioned in white stone like the old city of Jerusalem. I’d remembered this from a comparative religions course I took at my first college. Greenery ran alongside the wall and up the stairs toward the door.

  Drew pulled it open, and we walked inside. Tantalizing scents of citrus and sesame hung in the air.

  “Hi, welcome to Abba.”

  “I called earlier. Drew King for a table of two. Adam Sell told me to speak with Marjorie.”

  “I have you right here.” The hostess pecked at her iPad. “Table for two by the open kitchen.”

  “Sounds good,” Drew said, grabbing my hand and squeezing it.

  “Right this way.”

  The place was busy. It was all windows and bright, unlike the Southern. Fresh fruits and vegetables hung over the open kitchen, and the staff wore their whites with small blue handkerchiefs tucked in the pockets.

  A Middle Eastern melody filtered through speakers as we were seated directly across from the kitchen in a dark blue leather banquette for two.

  “This is gorgeous,” I noted.

  “It’s a far cry from a steakhouse.”

  “I was sort of thinking that. It’s definitely a nice change of pace.”

  When the server came, Drew ordered a large bottle of sparkling water and a Scotch on the rocks. I ordered a glass of Israeli cabernet.

  We made more small talk until the drinks arrived. “We’re taking our time,” Drew told the server, “and going to have our drink and then order.”

  The server hurried away, and after a clink and a toast to reunions, Drew asked the sixty-four-million-dollar question.

  “When do you think you’re going to let me all the way back in? In every way, Jules?” He tossed back a healthy dose of Scotch, his Adam’s apple dipping with each swallow.

  “Drew,” I whispered.

  “I don’t want to make small talk. I want to talk for real. I’m sorry for what I did, pushing you away, but if I thought for a minute that all of this was about to happen—Darla, you dropping out of school, waiting tables . . . Christ.” He slammed his drink down.

  “Please don’t cause a scene.” I reached across the table and placed my hand on top of his. My fingers pressed into his skin, and tingles ran through me. “I was so broken when you left. I’d been through a mess at my other school, and I knew being with you was wrong. It was like I was binge-watching horror movies, except they were real, the mistakes of my life on a continuous loop.”

  He flipped our hands and squeezed my fingers tightly.

  “When you up and left, it was a bold reminder of what I did was wrong . . . again.”

  He shook his head. “You know what happened in California wasn’t your fault.”

  “Yes.” I took a large sip of my wine. “I do, but it was like I kept putting myself in positions where I was screwing up.”

  “You can’t seriously believe that shit.”

  “I don’t know what I believe. When I found out I was pregnant, I decided to start over. Dropped out of school, started using my middle name, and hauled ass to North Carolina. For some reason, it was easier being all by myself. Anything from my former life reminded me of you. I can’t explain it, but all I wanted was to be someone new.”

  “Have you been happy?” His eyes were like daggers, ready to stab the truth out of me.

  “I can’t really answer that. Darla makes me so happy. She’s a beautiful and strong little girl, and I’m raising her all on my own, no frills. But I’m lonely a lot of the time. When Dar is asleep or at school, doing laundry or shopping isn’t exactly fulfilling.”

  “I haven’t been happy. Actually, I’ve been a sorry sack of shit for years. The last five years, all I’ve done is think of you.” He picked up his glass, the ice clinking against the side, and finished off the amber liquid.

  “What about the other two years?” It was a stupid question, and I should have left it alone.

  “Truthfully, the first year I was pretty much drunk on the weekends or working. Then I sobered up and made several big hits while screwing my way through women. It wasn’t very satisfying. They weren’t you, physically or personality or anything. I took all my anger out on my body, working out until I was exhausted.”

  I nodded and finished off my wine.

  Like I said, I shouldn’t have asked. I hadn’t slept with anyone since before Darla was born. Since Drew left Ohio.

  “We’re going to make this right, Jules. I never stopped caring for you. I already can’t imagine a life without you and Darla. We’ll make it right, and I hope in a few short weeks or months, you’ll allow me to take care of you.”

  “God, I wish it were that easy.” I dropped my forehead in the palm of my hand, when I really felt like slamming it into the table.

  “We don’t have to make this hard.”

  “Darla thinks her dad just couldn’t be with us. It’s so stupid, the rock bottom of excuses, but I could never bring myself to say anything disparaging about you,” I whispered to the table.

  “I get it; we’ll work through it. Right now, let’s eat and relax.”

  I looked up. “How do you know to say all the right things?”

  “With you, it comes easy. Like I was meant to take care of you.”

  My eyes squeezed shut. Jesus, my insides were melting, all my resistance crumbling.

  The server popped over, noticing our drinks were empty. “Another round?”

  Drew looked to me, and I nodded. He gave the server a thumbs-up.

  “Can I interest you in some food?”

  “How does the tasting menu work? Can we do an all-vegetarian version?” Drew again with all the right things.

  “Absolutely,” the server said.

  I looked at Drew. “You don’t have to do vegetarian.”

  “I’m not,” he said and turned to the server. “One tasting menu as-is, and one veggie only.”

  “Would you like the wine pairings too?”

  “Of course. Even if we just take a few sips of each, that’s what makes it.”

  The server disappeared, and it was as if we were the only two beings in the universe . . . despite the kitchen bubbling over with chatter and pots clanking right next to us.

  “Not to take it heavy again,” he said, “but I looked for you. Facebook, shit like that.”

  “I never got back into it. When I left, I could only afford a pay-as-you-go flip phone for emergencies. By the time I finally got a smartphone, I had a two-year-old and no time to Facebook or Instagram.”

  A runner deposited our drinks in front of us, along with a decadent display of hummus, baba ghanoush, pita, and olives.

  “And the Claire business?”

  “That was right away. I decided moving wasn’t enough. I would be someone entirely new.”

  “I like Jules better.” He stared me down, his gaze hungry and predatory.

  “It’s okay. You can use it. I should tell Darla my real name. I’ve kept too many secrets from her.”

  Drew popped an olive in his mouth, spitting the pit in a little dish meant for that exact purpose. He swept some hummus on a piece of pita, then reached over and fed it to me. I had a little buzz going, and all of a sudden realized how horny I was.

  Except I had a kid at home. I couldn’t exactly invite Drew over . . . could I?

  The rest of dinner pretty much went the same, with Drew attending to my every need and me falling further into the palm of his hand.

  After dinner, he asked, “Want to go for a drive?”

  All I could do was nod. I didn’t have much more to drink after feeling the tiny buzz forming.

  I was lost in m
y thoughts as we drove. Before I knew it, we were parked at the far end of Drew’s driveway, overlooking the ocean.

  “I can’t come in . . . or stay . . . or anything.” It was a hushed whisper.

  He killed the engine and looked at me. “I know. By the way, I’m paying the sitter.”

  I pursed my lips and tried to give him a dirty look, but couldn’t seem to erase the smile from my face.

  “I thought we could just look at the moon without getting arrested for loitering elsewhere. And we could . . .”

  He leaned over the center console and guided me close. With his hand around the base of my neck, he kissed me. Softly, with a closed mouth, yet his kiss touched me to my tippy toes. On a moan, his tongue found entry into my mouth, and mine journeyed into his. The heaviness of earlier had fled, and all that was left was the silent promise of something better.

  We stayed like that a long time, just kissing and kissing.

  I wasn’t a single mom, and he wasn’t the man who ran away from me. We were Jules Smith and King Drew again. He was my hot coach, my savior, and I was his student and lover.

  His tongue abandoned my mouth and traveled down my neck, his teeth nipping at my skin, tingling and teasing along my collarbone. His hand slid over my shoulder, moving the strap out of the way for his mouth as he bent his head and caressed my skin with his lips. I couldn’t do anything but lean my head into the headrest and sigh.

  It had been too many years since I’d been touched. I hadn’t even considered finding a replacement for the man who held my heart in his calloused hands. And now he was kissing me, touching me, holding me, almost bringing me to the brink with light foreplay.

  With his head still bent, he stopped over my heart and laid his forehead over the stammering muscle. “Jules, I needed you, craved you all these years. I’m so glad I found you.”

  When I breathed out his name, he released my seatbelt and scooped me over into his lap. His erection dug into my jeans, making me want to shed the heavy layer and feel him. Really feel him. Slide him into me. Orgasm with him inside me. My mind was on a crash course, going a hundred miles an hour, not caring what obstacles might or might not lie around me.

  “Babe, you feel so good like this. Just like this. I’ve never wanted a woman the way I want you. I want it all, every piece of you, every stray hair, every inch of skin, every fiber of your being.”

  My heart jerked and jostled inside my chest when my phone buzzed, spoiling the moment.

  I jolted up. “I have to get that. It can only be one person.” Without looking at the caller ID, I said, “Hello, Molly? Is everything okay?”

  “Hey, Claire. Sorry to bug you. God, I feel so stupid. This is the first time you go out for some fun, and I’m calling you.”

  “Please, Molly, is Darla okay?”

  Drew’s face turned furious in the pale light of the car, storm clouds brewing in his eyes.

  “Yeah, I think so. It’s just she’s burning up, and I’ve been trying to comfort her for about an hour, but I can’t seem to keep her cool or calm her down.”

  “I’m on my way. Did you take her temperature? There’s a digital thermometer in the medicine cabinet. One second.” I cupped my hand over the phone. “We have to go. Right now,” I said to Drew, who had already turning the ignition and was backing out of the driveway.

  “I’m back,” I said to Molly, and heard Darla whimpering in the background.

  “I’ll take her temperature,” Molly said. “I’ve been putting cool cloths on her forehead, and I have her stripped down to an undershirt and underpants. She’s also taking small sips of water, and I found a popsicle in the freezer that she’s been sucking on. I’m sorry, Claire. I really thought I could hold her off, but she’s crying for you, and I can tell you’re the kind of mom who wouldn’t want that—”

  I stopped her rambling, “It’s okay, Molly. I’m glad you called. Please, just go take care of Darla. I’ll be there soon.”

  “Okay.”

  I swiped the END CALL button and closed my eyes. After a deep exhale, I said, “Well, this is my life. I don’t kiss boys by the moonlight anymore.”

  A tear escaped my eye and trickled down my cheek. I cried for how happy I’d been in that moment with Drew kissing me. Then I wept for how idiotic and selfish I was, crying over a man when my daughter was sick.

  Drew didn’t say a word. He let me cry, but he didn’t even try to comfort me.

  “This is why this isn’t going to work,” I told him. “Whatever you want. Dates and tasting menus. The beach and kissing my shoulder. That’s not my life. Darla is my life.”

  “Our life,” he finally said. “Our life, Jules. Not yours. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. You’re not going to. If I wasn’t so anxious to get back to your place, I’d pull over and shake the stubbornness out of you.”

  I didn’t respond. I couldn’t.

  Drew

  A beaten-down man, I collapsed on my couch.

  Christ. I slammed my hand into the pillow and let my head fall back. I was such a stupid, selfish man. My daughter was sick, and I was out romancing her mother like she didn’t have a care in the world.

  The sad part was that Jules felt guilty about it all. I should be the one to feel guilty. Instead, I was pissed as fuck.

  Jules refused to allow me in to help her. She was so frazzled over Darla being sick and her being out and having fun, so I let her go.

  I shouldn’t have.

  After standing and pouring myself a Scotch, I moved to the patio and smoked a cigar before falling asleep in a lounge chair.

  Hours later, I woke up with a stiff neck, a raging boner, and my phone vibrating in my pocket.

  “Hello.” My voice was ragged and hoarse.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, Drew. Did I wake you?”

  “Jules.” I sat up straight. “It’s good. I needed to get up and go to the gym anyway,” I said like an idiot, looking at my watch.

  It was seven in the morning. I hadn’t slept in like this since I’d moved to Florida. I moved my hand in front of my eyes, shielding my aching head from the sun.

  “I felt bad about rushing you off last night, and I didn’t say thank you. Sometimes I forget not everyone is up at this hour.”

  “No, I’m always up. I just—”

  My phone beeped with call waiting, and I took a quick peek at the screen. The gym. Yep, I told you; if I missed a workout, they’d be worried. I let it go to voice mail.

  “Jules, you don’t have to thank me. How is Darla?”

  “She’s sleeping. I double-dosed her with ibuprofen and acetaminophen, and that seemed to give her some relief.”

  “Can you do that? Double dose?” I ran my hand over my face. I didn’t know shit about kids, but this was my daughter.

  “Yeah, it’s how to take a big fever down. I’m hoping it will break and she can go back to school tomorrow, but you never know. She could get a rash or sore throat. I guess I’ll see when she gets up.”

  “Why don’t you get some rest while she’s sleeping.” I opened the slider, and the air conditioning slapped me in the face as I walked back inside.

  “I have to try and find coverage for work. Molly’s not feeling great now either. I think by tomorrow, they’ll both be better, and she’ll be fine to stay with Molly. I can’t take off all week.”

  Bingo. I hated to admit it, but I had my “in” with a sick Darla and Molly.

  “I know how much you want to work, and need to. How about I stay with Darla tonight?”

  “I don’t know. She hardly knows you. Won’t it be awkward?”

  “We’re going to tell her eventually I’m her father, right? Let me do this now, help take care of her. In fact, I can work from home today, and you could even bring her here. Maybe some fresh air later will do her good.”

  “Drew, I think it’s too much.”

  “Jules, please.” I paced my living room, begging to take care of a sick little girl like it was my last dying wish. And it was.

>   “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

  “You’ll tell me.” I kicked my shoes off and started undressing. Sleeping outside in the humidity had left me funky, and I needed a shower. “I’ll call for groceries too. What should I get? Some broth? Applesauce?”

  “And some popsicles.”

  “So that’s a yes? What time will you be here?”

  “I hope this goes okay. See you at three.”

  And like that, she hung up.

  At quarter after three, I watched from my upstairs office window as Jules pulled into the driveway.

  She looked nothing like that put-together, tight-ass server I saw the first night at the Southern. Her hair whipped around her face as she threw open the driver’s door. With her shirt untucked and no tie in sight, she walked around the car and opened the back passenger door. She leaned in and helped Darla out.

  I wanted to keep watching, but decided to go open the front door. I was there as soon as Jules hit the threshold.

  “Hey, Darla. How ya feeling, little superstar?” I looked at my daughter standing in a pair of what I presumed to be pajamas.

  “I’m fine. Mom’s fussing.”

  Jules ran her hand over Darla’s head and tucked her hair behind her ear. “Dar, if you need me, tell Drew to call me.” She looked up and handed me a plastic baggie with a bottle of liquid medicine in it. “She can take another dose of ibuprofen at six o’clock. The dose is marked in permanent marker on the disposable cup.”

  She smoothed her hand over Darla’s head. “Go to sleep later, and I’ll come and get you.” Turning to me, her hand still firmly planted on Darla, she said, “I’m sorry to be in such a rush, but Bryce is short-handed tonight. Apparently, a stomach bug is whipping its way through the servers.”

  “Go.” I gently put my hand on Darla’s shoulder and ushered her next to me.

  Jules was halfway down the walkway and I was about to close the front door when she called back to us. “Dar, do you want me to put your hair up? I don’t know if Drew knows how.”

  “Mom,” she said weakly. “It hurts my head. I’m fine with it down.”

  “The fever makes her head ache,” Jules explained to me.