It was a good night; I made sure of it, showing Mark exactly what I could do for him. He had an unfortunate habit of wanting to hold me afterwards, wrapping his sweaty arms around me and pulling me into his even sweatier chest. It was obviously something he did with his wife. Maybe she liked it. Me, I liked a bit of space after sexual gymnastics. Rather than rocking his boat, I waited till he fell asleep before sliding from his embrace and shuffling towards the cool edge of the bed.
He was ready for more in the morning. ‘I can’t get enough of you,’ he whispered, shimming over to me, running a hand over my belly, down between my legs.
I groaned. It seemed the appropriate response although morning sex never had been my cuppa. He, however, was ready, willing, and obviously able, so I did my part with as much gusto as I could muster when all I really wanted to do was sleep for another hour or two.
He was far more romantic than I remembered. His wife’s influence, I supposed. When he suggested we shower together, it seemed like he’d learned a script from a bad chick-lit novel and I had to bite my tongue to ask if his wife read them. I had to bite harder to stop myself telling him not to be so stupid. ‘No, you go ahead; you have me so exhausted, I’m just going to doze for a few minutes.’
When he made a move towards the bed, I quickly shut my eyes and let my head flop ever so slightly, hoping he’d get the hint. He must have done, and I must have been as exhausted as I claimed because my pretence of falling asleep became reality. When I woke, the silence and the cold, white, unadorned walls of the bedroom were disorientating, and I wondered where I was. It hadn’t been the first time I’d woken in a strange bedroom over the years. Only when the silence was punctured by the distinct rumble of a man’s voice, did I relax. My new apartment… and Mark was here with me.
I should have felt happy. My plan was working. But my thoughts kept returning to what I’d found in Mother’s bedroom. The implications of it were so staggering that I couldn’t take them in. Not yet… perhaps never… because if I was right, my whole life had been a lie.
It was a terrifying thought. I scrambled from the bed, dragging the sheet with me and fled the room to search for Mark, wanting his presence now as much as I hadn’t wanted it earlier.
He was sitting at the small table I’d set in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. His mobile was clamped to his ear and as he listened, he nodded in agreement to whatever was being said.
‘Not a problem,’ he said, ‘I can have that for you today.’ Another nod and he cut the connection and put the phone down. His loud sigh stirred the leaves on a plant in the corner of the low windowsill.
‘Bad news?’ I’d have liked for him to turn and tell me it was his wife, that she was upset, and he needed to go to her. I’d have liked a reason to be angry, to feel any emotion rather than the fear that was still reaching for me.
He turned and reached a hand out to me, his expression relaxed. I’m guessing it hadn’t been his wife.
‘Just work stuff. Paperwork I need to get done.’
‘You can take a break though, can’t you?’ I tugged at his hand. If I couldn’t stir up some anger to rid me of the daemons, I’d do what I’d done for so many years; I’d wipe them away with the closeness, the heat, the connection that sex brought. A temporary release, but it would do.
Fifteen minutes later, Mark was back at work, and I was still strangely restless. His assumption that I was simply going to sit around and wait for him to be free was irritating me too. Leaving him to it seemed to be the best idea.
I packed an overnight bag and dropped it at the front door. My jacket was draped over the back of a chair. I pulled it on, patted the pocket, but refused to dwell on what it held. Instead, I crept up behind Mark. A kiss on his cheek startled him, his fingers hitting a series of letters that sent lines of gibberish flying across the screen. ‘Blast,’ he said, carefully deleting before turning to me. ‘Sorry, you startled me.’ He nodded toward the monitor. ‘I really need to get this done.’
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ I said coolly. ‘I’m going to head to Ivan’s. I think I’ll stay for a night, maybe two. It’ll give you a chance to have a word with your wife.’
He was on his feet, stumbling in his haste to reach me and drag me into his arms. ‘A night or two? I thought…’ He opened and shut his mouth, as if suddenly realising he’d no right to the words he was going to say.
I knew exactly what they’d be. He’d thought that once I had an apartment, that he could come and go as he pleased. That I’d be there waiting for him whenever he could tear himself away from his wife. He never really believed he’d have to make a decision. ‘Right,’ he said, letting me go. ‘I will speak to Susan, I promise. Let me know when you get back; we can meet. I’ll take you for dinner and we can talk. Okay?’
I’d used the lash, now it was time for the velvet glove. I stepped closer, put my hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes. ‘I’ll be thinking of you every moment I’m away, remembering the wonderful lover you are, how good you make me feel.’ And then I kissed him, a long, slow, sensual kiss that aroused him as I knew it would. Always leave them wanting more. I stepped away with a smile, then turned, picked up my bag and left.