I wake to a sweet ache between my legs and the previous night playing through my mind. A delicious smile spreads across my face. If not for the ache, I’d think it was a dream. One I’d had many times before. Absently, I reach for Calder but come up with nothing. His body is no longer wrapped around mine.

Slowly opening my eyes, the morning light shining in through the floor-to-ceiling window of my bedroom, I see him sitting on the edge of the bed. His elbows on his knees, his head down, one hand in his hair like he’s almost pulling it. His breathing is deep, each breath making the big muscles of his back flex, showing the lines of his defined body.

Reaching out, I run my fingers down his back, wanting to encourage him back to bed with me. His whole body freezes. No more deep breaths. Just completely still. I can feel the frustration rolling off of him in waves, and it makes me pull my hand back.

“What did I do?” I hear him mumble. “I should have listened to your father.”

Out of all the things I thought he might say, that isn’t one of them. Not even close. In fact, talking about my father while we are both naked after making love seems completely wrong.

“Did he tell you to stay away from me?” I wouldn’t be surprised by that. It’s the only thing I can really imagine my father would say. He’s never scared men off before, but I don’t normally engage in their affections either, so there has never been a need.

“No. Said you’re just like your mother.” The way he says it, with such distaste, makes me push myself farther away from him, almost falling off the other side of the bed. Grabbing the sheet, I wrap it around me to cover up my body. He makes no move to look at me as he hangs his head and looks down at the floor.

My father has said many times that I’m like my mother, that I seem to just draw attention to myself. But she sought hers, and I don’t. He’s often said that I just light up a room. I’d always believed it was just a father doting on his daughter. Of course he thought I lit up the room. But I don’t think that’s what Calder means. Not with his tone of voice, the bitter anger that seems to lace them. No, he’s talking about the other whispers I’ve heard about my mother. For some reason, I want to hear him say it. Maybe because no one has ever said it to me before. It’s always been danced around or avoided.

“And what does that mean?” I’m surprised by the firmness of my own words. I’m shocked that I don’t stumble over them. I meet him head on.

This time, he does turn to look at me. His bright eyes bore into mine. The look is cold, all that sweetness from last night long gone. So cold I almost wonder if I made it up to begin with. That it never could have been in those eyes.

“I think you know what I mean, Felicity. It’s no big secret about your mother. Hopping from one bed to another. Do you so easily fall into bed with men? Do you do this for all of your father’s clients? That why he seems to be so popular?”

I can feel the blood drain from my face. Yes, I’ve heard the rumors. On some level I’ve had a dislike for my mother, but another part of me, the child deep inside me, still craves something from her. When my father said I was like my mother, it made me smile because I filled it with a sweetness. That I had a little part of my mother in me was a cause for happiness for me. I know it’s silly, she abandoned me, after all, but I clung to it for some reason.

Is that what my father told him? Maybe that’s why he wants me so close. He can keep a better eye on me. Make sure I’m not too much like her.

“I believe it was you that climbed into my bed.”

“A bed you easily welcomed me into,” he throws back. I don’t get his anger. What the heck changed from last night to this morning?

“Well then, you better be on your way. I’m sure someone else will be filling the spot shortly.” I don’t know where that came from, but it felt good. More than good. I let the anger take control because if I let myself feel anything else, I’ll be crumbling into a babbling, crying-girl mess. I won’t give him that.

No, I’ve already given him too much. More than I’ve ever given anyone, only to have it ripped away from me so quickly.

He shoots up from the bed, turning to look at me full on in all his naked glory. Rage lights up his face. I feel a moment of triumph when I see what looks like jealousy flash across his face. I jump to the other side of the bed, taking the sheet with me, wrapping it around my naked body.

“Oh, trust me. If anyone is going to be fucking you in this bed, it will be me. You can cancel your fucking list while your little ass is still in New York. Hell, indefinitely. I’ll be the only man between those greedy thighs.”

“Get out!” I scream, hoping my father isn’t home. He’s taking what I thought had been lovemaking and turning it into something else. Something I want no part of. “You’ll never touch me again.”

“Oh, I’m going to do more than touch you. I might have had a little too much to drink when I stumbled in here last night, but I’m seeing things all too clearly now in the light of day. I held myself back, but I might as well take what you seem to be throwing around. No sense in driving myself crazy by not just taking it.”

“I’m not sure you see anything clearly at all.” My voice is soft, losing all the power it had. I can’t stop the sense of defeat I’m feeling from leaking out.

His eyes narrow on me like he is trying to read me like some puzzle. I look away, my eyes going to the bed. When I see the bloodstain on the sheet, I squeeze my eyes shut for a minute, trying to get myself together.

When I look back up at him, I see his eyes are on the bed now, too. I feel embarrassment flood me. To be called a whore despite having been a virgin not even hours ago would be almost laughable if my heart wasn’t breaking.

Slowly, his eyes come back to mine.

“I said get out,” I push again, needing him out of my room. I feel the dam breaking. The knot growing in my throat. It will be a miracle if I can get him out of here without shedding a tear in front of him.

“I—”

“Don’t!” I hold my hand up, the other still holding the sheet to my body. I can’t take another word from him.

He goes to move around the bed, and I take two steps back, almost slipping on the sheet now tangled around my feet. “I’ll scream. I’ll scream so loud everyone will hear it.”

He stops in his tracks.

“Please. I’m begging you. Just leave.” My voice cracks on the last word.

His head drops and he looks down at the floor. I let out a sigh of relief as he finally starts to dress. I turn around, not wanting to look at him. I feel a tear streak down my face, and I quickly wipe it away. I don’t want to wait for him to leave, so I walk towards my bathroom, shutting the door behind me, not even looking back at him. Flipping the lock, I let myself fall against the heavy door.

“I’ll see you tonight. We’ll talk then. After we both cool down and think about things rationally. Meet me on the balcony.”

I don’t respond to him.

“Felicity,” he pushes from the other side of the door.

“Okay,” I lie, happy he can’t see my face and read the lie.

I walk over to the shower and turn the knobs before dropping the sheet and climbing in. I have to get out of here. There is no way I can be here tonight. The idea that he thinks I’ll meet him on the balcony after what he just said to me is ludicrous. The idea that I’d ever want to talk to him again is laughable.

And I have a feeling that if I’m here tonight, he’ll corner me into doing just that. Calder doesn’t look like a man who stops until he gets what he wants. I don’t think he’d have become as successful as he is if he did.

Washing my body, I stop between my legs. The ache I felt when I woke this morning no longer feels sweet. Now the dull throb just adds to the pain I feel pulsing through my body.

I have to get out of here. I turn off the shower and dry myself before opening the door. A wave of utter relief laced with a pang of sadness washes over me when I see that he is indeed gone.

It’s then I notice the bedsheet is gone. The evidence of what happened is no longer here, effortlessly whipped away.

Grabbing my phone off my bedside table, I look at the text from my father.

Dad: Had to run to the office. Be back later this afternoon. Staff should have everything handled for tonight.

I drop the phone back down, wondering what my dad had said to Calder. I can’t bring myself to ask. I already feel like I’m on the edge of shattering into a million piece. One little shove and I’m not sure how long it would take to put me back together again.

The night before keeps playing through my mind, taunting me. He was so sweet. Like he couldn't get enough of me. It hits me like a ton of bricks. Glancing down into the trash, I can’t see a used condom. Nothing. I don’t remember him using anything at all.

I drop down onto the bed, burying my face in my hands and letting myself cry. I’ve never felt more alone in my life than in this moment.

I give myself thirty minutes of self-pity before I pull myself from the bed and change my flight. I’m relieved to find one that departs in three hours.

I pack my bags and get everything together before sneaking out of the apartment and down to the lobby where I hail a cab.

It isn’t until I’m on the plane do I finally text my dad.

Me: Sorry had to head back a little early. Have fun tonight. I love you.

I feel guilty for not staying. For not asking for the truth. I know my father holds some disdain for my mother, never has it fallen on me. That doubt has never been in my mind. Now it’s there.

After turning my phone on airplane mode, I drop it back into my bag.

Taking a deep breath, I let my head fall back as I close my eyes.

This too shall pass.