SLIPPING MY SUNDRESS ON OVER my head, his hands follow the flow of the cotton as it travels from my shoulders, down my back, and settles over my hips left bare from my seated position on the side of the bed. The bottom of the sundress pools at my waist, my bare feet left to dangle above the hardwood floors of his bedroom from my high perch on his four-poster bed. An odd piece of furniture for a single guy in his early thirties, but it suits the arrogance that swims around him.
He places a kiss to my dress-covered shoulder blade at the same time his large hands squeeze my hips. He’s still laying behind me, naked from our last time rolling around in his soft, satin sheets.
I met Clark at the diner where I work. I had never seen him before the day he walked in almost two weeks ago. All distinguished and polished in his tailored suit, shiny black shoes, and salt-and-pepper, slicked-back hair. He was the classiest thing I’d ever seen in this small, rundown town. I knew he had to be about ten years older than my twenty-four years, but he didn’t seem to care when his eyes settled on me behind the counter as the bell dinged above his head.
And they never left me as he found a vacant booth by the window, and as if it were fate, in my section. His heated stare caused the all-too-familiar butterflies to take flight in my belly and the heated blush to erupt over my chest and up into my cheeks.
I remember taking a deep breath, grabbing the fresh pot of coffee I had just brewed, and squaring my shoulders as I walked hesitantly over to him.
He smiled. My breath faltered. And it was just like every time before that…before him. His charm and attention seemed to steal my heart right from my chest.
From that day on, Clark made it his mission to sweep me off my feet. Little did he know he already accomplished that the very first day we met, when he took the time to learn my name and ask a few simple questions about the town.
And me.
He was actually interested in me.
He was driving through on his way into the neighboring city and stopped for a small bite to eat and cup of coffee to wake himself up. He said it was the best decision he ever made.
Now, as I take in his bedroom around me for the first time, I’m beginning to believe he’s right.
“You don’t have to go, you know.” His voice breaks the silence and wraps around me. His hands travel from my hips up over my bare thighs. Goosebumps rise on my skin.
“I’m opening at Ralph’s in the morning. It’s after midnight, and I have almost an hour drive. As it is, I will only manage a few hours’ sleep if I’m lucky.”
He huffs a breath, removes his hands from my body, and sits up against the headboard. I turn my head to look at him before he responds. “I can drive you in the morning, Kennedy.” He offers a smirk as his eyes travel over my face and neck, down my chest to my too-large-for-my-frame breasts. His eyes heat again. “Stay so I can take that sundress back off of you and show you—”
His words are cut off as his bedroom door bursts open and hits off the wall. My head whips to the left, and my eyes widen in shock at the woman standing in the doorway.
Chest heaving.
Eyes red and swollen.
Face streaked with tears.
My heart shatters right there because without her uttering one word, I know; I absolutely know that it’s happened again. That I’ve fallen for yet another man who’s just used me and my need to be wanted to his advantage.
“You lying, cheating son of a bitch!” she screams into the quiet serenity of the bedroom.
“Mallory, please. It isn’t what you think!” Panic laces Clark’s voice as he scrambles from the bed stark naked to pull on his discarded boxers he picks up from the floor.
So that’s what it sounds like when someone really cares for someone else.
“Isn’t what it looks like? Care to explain how it should look for me to find my husband of almost three years naked in our bedroom with a woman who isn’t me!” she shrills.
Husband. He’s her husband.
Well, I can say without a shadow of a doubt this is the lowest I’ve ever been. Sleeping with a married man. How did I not know?
“Mallory—”
“Shut up, Clark!” Her eyes leave her husband and scan over to me. Bloodshot and narrowed and glaring. “Get out, you home-wrecking slut. You aren’t needed anymore!”
I hold back the gasp of pain and tears her words inflict and stand from my still-seated position of shock on their four-post bed. I was the one who was lied to, made to feel worthy and wanted when I was only being used, but her evil glare lets me know she’s putting all the blame on me.
Clark’s wife is still standing by the open door to their bedroom. I have to turn to the side and slide by her to ensure we don’t touch after I grab my bag from the floor by the bed. All the while knowing Clark isn’t asking me to stay, begging me not to go, or offering any words at all.
Not even goodbye.
As I clear the doorway, the tears start to fall, and I hear an enraged and strangled sob-filled scream tear from her throat, causing me to stop in my tracks and turn to face them yet again.
Clark’s wife is pounding her fists against his rapidly-heaving chest as she wails and shakes. I can hear him muttering his apologies and endearments over her pained cries of betrayal and disgust. She tries to push him away, but he just holds on tighter, trying to save them with his words and tender touch.
Not being able to take a second more, I rush down the stairs and in my haste almost fall to my face as I trip over the last step. I right myself before crashing through the still-open front door into the humid night air, my tears and fears and pains unleashed through the sobs wracking my body as I stumble to my car.
Slamming the driver’s side door, my shoulders slump against the cloth-covered seat, and I hang my head until my forehead touches the cool leather of the steering wheel.
My sobs don’t stop. They erupt. Ripping me apart from the inside out. Exposing the raw, unbridled agony that I’ve lived with my whole life.
Never being good enough.
Never being wanted or cherished or needed.
But only ever seeking that feeling of affirmation and contentment.
Only ever wanting to be loved and to belong to someone, to anyone. Leaving me wide open to be used and discarded like the nothing I’m always going to be.
Well not anymore. I’m done being used and abused. Done being cast aside like I mean nothing. Done being made to feel like I’m insignificant.
I need a fresh start—a new beginning—where my past doesn’t follow every move I make.