The Choice

by Stella Gray

I scrolled through my contacts and tried calling Senator’s Lindsey’s house line again. Predictably, there was no answer. I knew Mitch was in DC for work, but I hadn’t tried him directly. Once I was sure that Tori had left me for Gavin, I’d given up on trying to reach her friends and family.

  This time I dialed his cell. He picked up after the third ring, sounding distracted and annoyed.

  “Stefan,” he said flatly. “What is it?”

  “Is Tori at your house in Springfield?” I asked.

  Gavin leaned forward, and I tilted the phone in his direction so he could hear the senator’s reply.

  “She’s your wife,” Mitch said with an obnoxious laugh. “I thought it was your job to keep a leash on her now.”

  I hated him, but forced myself to take a deep breath before I responded. Even Gavin was clenching his jaw, having overheard the senator’s booming voice.

  “We had some words and she took off,” I said, keeping the details vague. “I’m trying to track her down.”

  “She isn’t there as far as I know,” Mitch said, “but why don’t you try the house? The staff will answer. Or maybe she’s with one of her school friends. Either way, I’m sure she’ll turn up soon.”

  He hung up on me and Gavin and I stared at my phone. How could this man be so dismissive when his daughter, his only child, was missing? She wasn’t with her school friends, and no, the staff at the senator’s mansion would not answer. I had been calling the Springfield house day and night, but no one had ever picked up. Which was strange if you thought about it, since it was their job to answer calls and take messages for the senator and his family.

  “Fuck.”

  “What?” Gavin asked anxiously.

  “I’m an idiot.”

  Gavin put his hands up. “You said it, not me. Where is she?”

  “She’s gotta be at home,” I said. “I’ve called that line more times than I can count, and the staff hasn’t picked up a single one of my calls. They’re avoiding me. On purpose.”

  “You think she’s there, then?”

  I nodded. “Has to be. I’m gonna head out. If I leave now, I can probably make it in under four hours.”

  “Wait. Can you—can you have her text me?” Gavin asked. “Just so I know she’s okay.”

  “Sure, man,” I said, holding out my hand. We shook on it. “Thanks for showing up.”

  “No problem,” he said. Maybe he wasn’t such an asshole after all.

  We went our separate ways and I headed to the underground parking garage to get my BMW. The M5 had over 600 horsepower and went from zero to sixty in three seconds. This wasn’t the time to call a chauffeur. I needed to get to my wife as soon as possible. I needed to see her now. Even if that meant breaking a few traffic laws in the process.

  Just as I was about to pull out of the garage, ready to ignore every speed limit sign in the state of Illinois, my phone rang. I glanced at the screen on the dash and saw that it was Emzee calling. I put her on speaker and sped away from the condo, my tires screeching as I peeled out.

  “Not a good time,” I told her.

  “It’s about Tori,” she said, and I eased up on the gas pedal.

  “I know where she is,” I said. “I’m on my way now. Make it quick.”

  Emzee let out a huge sigh. “Good,” she said. “I’m glad. Did she call you?”

  “No.” I cut somebody off, waving as I sped by. “But I’m going to get her anyway.”

  “Okay. Never mind then,” she said. “I’ll let you drive.”

  “Emzee,” I ordered, using my best big brother voice. “Spit it out.”

  She let out a huff of air. “I’m not supposed to be telling you this, but I know why she left. And it’s not because she doesn’t love you.”

  “Keep talking.”

  As zoomed toward I-55, I listened to my sister explain why Tori had walked out on me. There was no doubt in my mind that I could still fix this.

  I was going to get my wife back.

  Tori

  Chapter 15

  “Just hang in there, lady,” Grace said. “I know everything sucks right now, but it won’t be like this forever. And whatever you decide to do, I’m here for you. I’m here for all of it.”

  I was sprawled out on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, with the cordless house phone tucked between my shoulder and my ear. Surrounding me were clumps of used tissues and a bunch of little tin foil wrappers from the bag of bite-size dark chocolates Michelle had dropped off outside my bedroom door along with a stack of romance novels. Comfort, delivered.

  “Thanks,” I said, wiping away a stray tear. “But I don’t even know where to start.”

  “I don’t want to sound like an obnoxious Instagram yogi or anything, but you can start by being kind to yourself,” she suggested gently. “And stop thinking you have to figure it all out in three days. My breakups were always hell, remember? Ryan Evans, junior year?”

  “Oh god, I remember,” I said. “That was bad. You cut off all your hair, flashed the entire football team at a pep rally, and cried through first period Latin every morning for weeks.”

  “It was a rough time,” she said defensively.

  “And then, the last day of school before Christmas break, you shoved an entire pound of thin sliced limburger cheese through the slot in his locker so it would rot in there over the holidays.”

  “Tori!” she gasped in mock horror. “You said you’d never speak of it again!”

  “That was pretty diabolical,” I mused.

  “Well if you feel like a little revenge-cheesing is in order, let me know.”

  I laughed. It was probably the first time I’d felt my mood lift since I’d left Chicago.

  “Anyway,” Grace went on, “I gotta run to a marketing thingy for my handbags, but let me know when you’re ready for wine and cookie dough and Jane Austen movie night, okay? Just say the word. Ooh, and p.s., I’m sending you one of my purses! You’re going to love it.”

  We said goodbye and I went out into the hallway to hang the phone back up on its cradle. Talking to Grace had been good—great, actually—but it was mostly just a temporary distraction from the disaster that my life had turned into.

  The deadline Emzee had given me for coming clean to Stefan was tomorrow, but I had no idea what to say to him when I called. If I had thought that a few days would give me time to sort things out in my head or help me become braver, I had been sadly mistaken.

  If anything, I felt even more confused and worried than ever about what I was supposed to do. My heart ached for my husband, but my mind kept telling me that leaving him was the best thing to do in the long run. That he belonged with Anja. And his son. That if I stuck around, at best I’d be a third wheel. At worst, I’d have to watch my husband fall back in love with the first woman he’d ever cared for.

  Still, I resolved to call him first thing in the morning. Emzee was right, I owed him an explanation. Especially considering all the upheaval he was going through in his life right now.

  I’d strap on my emotional bulletproof vest, pick up that phone, and tell him I understood that he loved Anja, and that he needed to try and make it work with her, try to be a family with her and their son. But even thinking the words sent me off on another crying jag. It felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest. I wondered if I would always feel this way.

  Exiling myself inside for the past few days had only made me feel worse. More isolated, more trapped. I had to get out of the house. Rifling through my closet, I found some old running shoes, workout clothes, and a thick, down-filled Lululemon vest. After pulling on a knit hat and gloves, I went out for a run.

  Technically, it was more of a jog-and-walk. I stretched for a few minutes and then took off, following the same route through the neighborhood that I used to sprint in high school. I quickly realized that my fitness level wasn’t what it used to be back when I was forced to run laps regularly in gym class. Still, I leaned into the familiar burn in my lungs, the ache in my muscles,
the hard slap of my shoes against the sidewalk. It was probably forty degrees outside, but by the time I got back to the house I was sweating and had unzipped my vest.

  “Why are you so out of breath?” Michelle asked, all dolled up and about to walk out the front door with her purse over her arm.

  “Running,” I panted. “Went for a jog.”

  My stepmother wrinkled her nose. “If you want to work out, darlin’, just use the home gym. It’s freezing out there. You’ll catch your death of cold.”

  “Thanks,” I said, not wanting to explain further. “I’ll do that next time.”

  I stopped in the kitchen to chug a glass of water and then headed upstairs, my whole body vibrating with the exertion. But although I’d gotten my blood flowing, the agony of losing Stefan still remained just as strong. There was no running from the breakdown of my marriage.

  Exhausted physically and mentally, I went back up to my bedroom, stripped off my clothes, and then shut myself in my bathroom for a good, long soak. I didn’t even wait for the water to fill the tub all the way before I climbed in, curling tight around myself and letting the hot water and bath salts do their work.

  Once the water was a few inches from the lip of the bathtub, I turned off the taps and let myself sink into it. Grace was right; I needed to be kind to myself. There was no way I was going to have all the answers.

  But I just couldn’t imagine my life without Stefan. He was the one I wanted to be with. The one I wanted to grow old with.

  Leaning back, I let my tears fall. There was no point trying to fight them.

  A few minutes later, I was all cried out. The heaviness in my chest had eased a little, and my muscles had relaxed in the steamy water. It felt good. I was about to get out of the tub when I heard a commotion downstairs. Someone banging on the front door, an exchange of voices. Had Michelle forgotten something? Was my father unexpectedly home early? I settled back in the tub, wrapped my arms around my knees, and tilted my head to listen.

  There were footsteps on the stairs, and a moment later my bathroom door burst open.

  It was Stefan, hair disheveled, out of breath, the picture of concern and anxiety.

  “Tori.”

  “Stefan—”

  But he was already kneeling beside the tub, pulling me into his arms, heedless of the hot water and bubbles that were soaking his nice suit and spilling onto the floor.

  “What are you doing here?” I said, letting him hold me. “Why did you come?”

  We were sitting on the plush bath mat, my body naked and slick in Stefan’s embrace. It was almost like he was trying to wrap his entire body around me, and I leaned into him, inhaling the comforting scent of his cologne, not caring that I was probably ruining his shirt and his tie.

  “Because you ran away from me, and I fucking need you.” His voice was angry and desperate. “Anywhere you go, I’ll follow. I love you.”

  “But—” I started.

  “Listen to me,” he said, easing his grip to look me in the eyes. “We might have been thrown together unwittingly for political reasons, just our fathers’ pawns in an arranged marriage, but I made those vows to you—not to Anja. You’re the one I want to be with.”

  “How can you say that?” I murmured. “You married me before you even knew she was still alive. Now that she’s back, there’s not even a choice.”

  “You’re right,” he said. “There isn’t a choice. There never was. Because between the two of you, I choose you. Nobody else. I don’t even need to think about it.”

  “You haven’t given it a chance,” I insisted. “She’s the mother of your child. What if you’re giving up the best part of your life for me? The chance to be a family?”

  “You are my family, Tori. And I will always stay true to you, because I can’t imagine living a life without you,” he went on.

  “I…I feel the same,” I admitted. “I don’t want to live without you. I want us to build a life. Together.”

  “Good. Because I made my vows already, and I’m standing by them.” Searching my gaze, he took a deep breath. “Are you going to keep your vows too, for better or worse, and love me through thick and thin, ‘til death do us part?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Of course I am.”

  Stefan held me even tighter, kissing my forehead, my cheeks, my neck, my shoulders, giving me goosebumps and sending a shock of hot tension straight between my legs.

  “But what about Anja?” I asked, refusing to let myself be distracted. “You love her. She was your first…everything. You’ve been looking for her for all these years. How can you just walk away from that?”

  He eased back and exhaled slowly.

  “I wanted to know what happened to her, Tori. I needed closure. That was it. I haven’t loved her for years. We’re not the same people we used to be—I don’t even know her anymore.”

  “You could know her,” I argued. “You haven’t even tried.”

  “I know you.” He was breathing hard, worked up into a frenzy, and he slid a hand up to cup my cheek just like he always did. “I love you. So stop fighting me. Stop fighting this.”

  “I love you, too,” I said, pulling him closer for a kiss.

  His mouth closed over mine, hot and needy, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and let myself get lost in the hard press of lips, the desperate slide of our tongues. Even though I was wet and cold from the bath, my entire body suddenly felt warm and safe, secure in the unwavering steadfastness of my husband’s love.

  “Don’t ever leave me like that again,” he whispered between kisses, his voice hoarse. “Promise me.”

  “I promise,” I whispered back.

  I couldn’t believe he was here, right here in front of me, saying all these things, kissing me so hard I was gasping for air. It was an outcome better than I ever could have imagined.

  And if it was a dream, I never wanted to wake up.

  Stefan

  Chapter 16

  At some point between convincing Tori that I loved her, and her promising to never leave me again, my cock had started responding to the fact that my wife was wet and naked, her supple curves pressed against me. Now I was hard and straining against my pants. She was all I could think about.

  Reaching over the edge of the tub, I tested the water.

  “It’s still hot,” I said.

  She smiled in my arms. “You want to get in?”

  “I want you to get in. I like the way you look when you’re all wet.”

  “Oh really,” she purred.

  “Really.”

  As she looked into my eyes I stroked her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Then I kissed her. Making my intentions clear, I thrust deep into her mouth with my tongue. Her grip grew tighter against my biceps, and throaty little moans escaped her. She reached down to trace the outline of my cock through my pants, and I couldn’t help but groan. Our attraction was electric and undeniable. I was desperate to touch her. Taste her. Show her exactly what she meant to me by completely losing myself inside her.

  “Get in there,” I ordered, forcing myself to break away. “You’re shivering.”

  Tori stood and turned around, giving me a million-dollar view of her perfect ass as she stepped back into the bath. Then she took her time sinking down into the hot water, letting out another soft moan as it enveloped her again. “Feels good,” she murmured. “Nice and steamy.”

  “You’re teasing me,” I growled, shrugging out of my damp blazer and tugging off my tie.

  “Mm-hmm,” she agreed, locking her eyes on mine.

  She reached her hands behind her head, arching her back as she stretched, just to show off. I let my eyes linger over her full breasts, the way her taut nipples peeked out from the dissolving bubbles, the droplets of water clinging to her skin like tiny diamonds. Then she traced a finger down her neck, between her tits, slipping under the water where I could only imagine it dipping inside the hot, slick walls of her pussy.

  “You sure you don’t want to
get in here with me?” she asked, looking into my eyes as she stroked herself. Licking her lips, a pink flush spread across her cheeks. I was momentarily stopped from undressing myself by the sight of her hand tucked between her thighs, the slow rocking of her hips under the water. Using her other hand, she twisted her nipple hard enough to draw another moan from her parted lips, the sound of it going straight to my cock.

  “You’re being very naughty,” I rasped, so turned on I could barely think. “I’m gonna have to punish you.”

  I saw understanding spark in her gaze, along with desire. That was my girl. That was my Tori. Whose sensual appetite could not be denied.

  Stepping next to the tub, my cock was just above her eye level. Seeing the hard evidence of my arousal, a pleased grin curved her beautiful lips.

  “Come here,” I said, tugging off my shoes and socks.

  She abandoned her toying and leaned forward to wrap her hands over the edge of the bathtub—an old-fashioned clawfoot that was more than big enough for two people.

  “Take off my belt,” I ordered as I unbuttoned my wet shirt.

  Tori obeyed without hesitation, licking her lips again. The sight made me even harder.

  “And your pants?” she asked breathlessly, fingers poised over the zipper, her thumb stroking me through the fabric again.

  “Take those off, too,” I said, tossing my shirt on the floor. “Take off everything.”

  Her nails dragged down my hips as she finished undressing me, my cock springing free.

  I was standing naked and hard before her, and she was on her knees in the tub, steam still curling up from the water, her tits glistening and wet. “Now suck,” I commanded.

  Her eyes bright with pleasure, she wrapped her warm hand tight around me. Then she gave me one slow stroke before opening her mouth and taking me inside it.

  “Good girl,” I groaned, shivering a little at the hot pressure of her lips and tongue. “Now make it nice and wet. Just like I taught you.”

  “Mm hmm,” she agreed.