Thomas gives me a tight smile and I shake my head. He’s spending this afternoon with his attorney. A Saturday afternoon lunch meeting, which I don’t know how he even scheduled that. I thought lawyers only worked during the week, but apparently Thomas claimed this was an emergency. He said he looked over the papers Danielle sent Thursday and she’s demanding more than he initially anticipated.

“Thank fuck I have a bank account she’s not a signer on,” he grumbles as he wraps his hand around the side of my neck.

“Do you want me to cancel and go with you?” I ask.

I don’t want to cancel, I promised Jessa that I would go to this football game with her, but Thomas looks nervous. He shakes his head and gives me a small smile. “No, sweetheart. You have fun with your friend. I’ll be here, waiting for you,” he winks.

Lifting to my toes, I press my lips against his. Thomas’ hand slips from my neck and finds purchase on my ass, giving me a rough squeeze. His tongue fills my mouth and I let out a moan as he gently fucks me with it. I press my body closer to his, brushing my nipples against his chest. They’re tight and my breasts ache, his kiss alone is enough to turn me into a needy mess of a woman.

He starts to break our kiss, nibbling my bottom lip before he lifts his face from my own. I don’t move away from him though, my thighs shake, and I want more—I always want more. “Later, Ines,” he whispers.

“Can’t we just stay hidden away all day?” I murmur with a bit of a whine.

He shakes his head and lifts his hand, his finger touching the tip of my nose. “No, sweetheart, not today. Tomorrow is another story though,” he grins.

“I dub Sundays, naked Sunday,” I announce.

I watch in fascination as he full on belly laughs, his hand squeezes my ass a little harder while he is overcome with his own laughter. “That sounds fucking fantastic,” he states.

“It’s a plan,” I smile.

He lowers his head and brushes his lips against mine one last time before he releases me and takes a step back. “Can’t fucking wait, sweetheart. And, don’t wear yourself out, we’re going out to dinner tonight,” he announces.

My eyes widen slightly and then I give him my own smile. “Really?”

“Dinner, and maybe a movie if there’s something you want to see. Then tomorrow, naked Sunday,” he grunts.

I kiss him one last time, then I’m out the door and heading toward the football game. I don’t bother taking my car, knowing for a fact that parking will be an absolute nightmare. Thomas grumbled, complained, and threw a mini-tantrum when he discovered that I was going to ride the bus, but I stood my ground. There is seriously no way I feel like fighting for a parking spot, on game day. Forget that shit. So, against Thomas’ wishes, I walk to the bus stop and head toward the college.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long to get there, it seems like that’s where everybody else is headed as well. It’s Saturday football, the entire town practically shuts down during the game.

Jessa and her long blonde hair aren’t hard to find, and I give her a wave as soon as I catch her eye. Once I’m close enough, we hug, and it feels like we haven’t seen each other for at least a month. So much shit has happened in such a short amount of time.

We quickly find our seats and I fill the silence, asking Jessa questions about Cole and Trent. I know that I’m avoiding my own drama, not sure what exactly I’m going to say to her. I feel, weird, about admitting that Thomas is married—admitting that I’m the other woman. I know that I shouldn’t feel guilty, I had no clue, and it isn’t on me, but I do. Even though his circumstance isn’t a traditional marriage, I still feel like what we’ve done and what we’ve continued to do is wrong.

“Let’s go to the bathroom,” Jessa suggests as soon as the whistle sounds for halftime.

Standing in line for the women’s restroom at any major event is like the seventh ring of hell, but I drank a coffee this morning, and two bottles of water, so I’m kind of screwed. The girls behind us are probably a few years older than we are and I overhear them talking about Cole. It doesn’t surprise me, Jessa’s man is hot, and he’s on that jumbotron quite often because of his looks.

“I’d let him fuck me any way he wanted to. Can you imagine sucking him off, having those light green eyes looking down at you? Shit, I’m getting wet just thinking about it,” one of the girl’s moans.

I glance over at Jessa whose face is bright red, either out of anger or embarrassment I’m not sure, but I feel badly for her anyway. Once a stall opens up I mutter, “Finally,” before I push Jessa toward it so she doesn’t have to listen to those bitches anymore. I hurry in the next empty stall and take care of business quickly, then make my way to the sinks to wash my hands.

“Don’t even go there,” I state, wrapping my hand around Jessa’s and dragging her out of the restrooms.

“I’m not,” she lies, shaking her head.

I snort. “You are, but you shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter what he did before you. All that matters is what he does now that he has you,” I state, nodding my head once as we settle down back at our seats.

Jessa arches a brow, turning to face me. “Oh, yeah?”

Blowing out a breath, I turn to face her as well and then I tell her everything. Once I begin, I can’t stop. I tell her that Thomas is married, that he’s been married the entire time, and I’m not the first affair he’s had. Once the words begin to tumble, I can’t stop them and my stomach twists with every single one.

I tell her how he left her for me, how he called her right in front of me. Then I tell her about the divorce papers that came just a couple days ago. “So, you see, it doesn’t matter what happens before you, Jessa. All that matters is what happens while he’s with you—what happens between you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” she asks, sounding shocked.

I shrug, unsure of how to answer that exactly. I don’t want to go into the fact that I feel sick, that I’ve felt dirty and wrong. So, I give her a half-truth. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. You’ve been pretty busy trying to handle your own shit. You did not need mine piled on you, too. We are so fucked. But all’s well that ends well, right?” I ask, bumping her shoulder, faking my happiness and nonchalant attitude.

The conversation is dropped, but I can’t help but continue thinking about it. Jessa is a good girl, she didn’t want to cheat on Trent and to be honest, I don’t feel like she really did. He didn’t love her, he abused her both mentally and physically. I don’t blame her for running as far away as possible, and she just happened to run into the arms of who seems to be a good man.

Me on the other hand? I’m having an affair with a married man, a real one. I don’t care what Thomas says, what his justifications are, I don’t think there is any way this can be justified. I’m wrong, he’s wrong, and what we’ve done is wrong. No matter how right being with him feels, it doesn’t change facts.

When the final whistle sounds we all stand and scream, our team was victorious. Jessa and I hug as we jump up and down. I’m happy that her man’s team won, that our school won, but I can’t get that niggling guilt from our earlier conversation to leave the pit of my stomach.

I don’t go directly back to Thomas’ place. I guess I should consider it mine because I’m living there now, but I don’t. Instead, I decide to take a walk. It’s a crisp afternoon and my thin long sleeve shirt does little to keep me warm, but I don’t mind. It feels nice and refreshing.

Looking around, I notice that the leaves on the trees are turning a pretty orange color, something that I’m not used to seeing in Florida. I frown, realizing that I haven’t been homesick, not really. I haven’t had a chance to miss home, or my family. I should miss them, and maybe if I’d had a moment to breathe recently, I would. I’ve been consumed, with school, with Jessa and her situation and then of course, with Thomas.

I grip my phone tightly in my hand and look down. My fingers itch to call my mom, but then I wonder what I would tell her. I don’t think that I could tell her everything, tell her about how me and Thomas got together, that he’s my teacher, that he’s married, or that we’re living together. She wouldn’t understand any of it, and she would probably get in her car, along with Kosmo, and drag my ass back to Florida.

My attorney glances over the paperwork in front of him, while he shoves a fry in his mouth. Then he lifts his gaze to me. I met Robert, about two years ago, we became friendly acquaintances and so far, we’ve only socialized together, and I’ve never needed him for business. I know that he’ll be helpful, as he’s also from New York, and began his law career there. Today our relationship completely, changes.

“She’s got the upper hand,” he announces.

I grunt, fully aware that her filing first meant that she would. “I don’t want to drag this out. I know she does, and she will, but I want it done and over with as quickly as possible.”

Robert smirks and lifts his chin. “Who’d you meet?” he asks with a small laugh.

“Is it that obvious?”

Robert shrugs, picking up his burger and taking a bite. “There are only a few instances where people want to rush a divorce, and you personally don’t fit the criteria for any of them, except having met someone. I know you, and I know what your arrangement was with Danielle. So, it’s not hard to deduce.”

I run my fingers through my hair, unsure of how much I should tell him. “She’s it for me, Rob. I want this stage of limbo to be done with. I just want the divorce to be fast-tracked. Whatever it takes,” I announce.

“She’s emptied your joint-accounts, she wants half your house, half your retirement, and if she didn’t make so much fucking money she’d want alimony as well,” he murmurs. “You’ve lived apart for five years, I would not advise to settle with her on those demands.”

I nod in agreement; however, I don’t want to fight for months either. “She’s not going to make this easy, she’s already made it clear. What can I do?”

Robert leans back, taking his glass full of pale ale with him. He levels me with a gaze and dips his chin. “We have both of your financial statements, we have all of the current bank statement copies, including the day she emptied the accounts, and I would advise you don’t allow her to bend you over and fuck you in the ass,” he states.

I’m not able to control my burst of laughter at his words, even though I completely concur with them. “I’m not getting any younger, I don’t want to waste my time, but I don’t want to give her all my money either. I’m closer to retirement than not, at this point.”

“I’ll put together a list of your own demands, and will you be able to fly to the city for mediation or do you want me to petition a video chat conference for it?” he asks, taking a pen out and making a few notes.

“It’s set for Monday two weeks from now. I have some sick days, I’ll be there if you can make it.”

Robert lifts his chin. “I live for this shit, Thomas. I’ll fucking be there. She’s doing this just to be a bitch, because she can. She doesn’t want, nor need anything from you, and you don’t have any children so it’s all stalling tactics and bullshit. Hopefully, the mediator sees through her. If he doesn’t, I’m pretty positive a judge will,” he says. “I’ll draw everything up, email it to you for approval and we’ll fly out the weekend before mediation.”

I agree and watch as he finishes jotting down information, then together we enjoy the rest of our lunch. A weight has been lifted from my shoulders just at the thought of everything hopefully working out in a somewhat easy fashion. When we’re finished we separate, and I head toward my car and drive home.

Glancing down at the clock I’m surprised to see that I spent so long with Robert at lunch. The game should be over, and Ines will probably be home shortly after me. I let out a deep breath, deciding not to go home right away, instead, I drive toward a shopping center. I don’t know why my car leads me here. No that’s a lie, I know exactly why it does. All this talk of Danielle, of the fact that I’m not getting any younger, it has me anxious to start my new life.

Parking my car, I jog toward the entrance and to the directory of the center, my finger finding the store I’m in search of. When I do, my legs quickly carry me there, my heart racing faster and harder with each step I take.

“Hello, sir, how may I help you today?” the peppy sales girl asks as soon as my feet cross the threshold.

I glance up at her, giving her a grin. “I’m looking for engagement rings,” I announce.