CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
KATE
The bath tub doesn’t provide me any answers tonight. Nor has it for the last several nights. Since Vivian told me to cut things off with Eric, I’ve been walking the beach for hours and soaking in the tub for almost as long.
It’s not often the water lets me down, but this week it has.
Staving off Vivian’s storm is no small feat, either. She’s livid I won’t tell her who I’m occasionally sharing a bed with and has threatened to send a private detective after me. That alone has kept me quiet. Lily and I have worked on the gala several nights out of my dining room simply because I was too scared to step foot outside.
It’s not so easy, deciding how to live my life. Objectively, it looks so simple: tell Eric we are no longer sleeping together and go back to late nights with dirty Thumblr posts and a vibrator. Objectively, I should sit at home and let David continue to look like the world’s biggest asshole so I can sweep the floor clean with his big, stupid face.
Objectively, I shouldn’t touch Eric to begin with because he is the enemy who made me question my existence.
Turns out I don’t do well with objective thinking. None of that matters. What matters is he told me I am perfect. What matters is he told me I am a fever in his veins. What matters is we both collide with one another, no matter how twisted this entire situation gets.
“He fucks all his clients’ wives.” Lily yells at me over the phone. “This is his whole game plan, Kate. He sleeps with you and then he uses the evidence to prove you’re trash. You had a leg up on him with the video in your possession, but now you keep sleeping with him.”
“You told me to do it in the first place! Remember, you told me to!”
“I told you to stop acting like this was some junior high crush. It’s revenge. Why the fuck are you still screwing around with him?”
I have nothing to say to this except “it’s different”. There’s no way he tells every woman he sleeps with they are perfect. There’s no way he shows up at their apartment door, feverish and disheveled, so he can kiss her before words are spoken.
“I know it doesn’t make sense, but I can feel it, Lily. When we are together, the connection is real. The connection is unlike anything I’ve ever had before.”
“You’re romanticizing his cock. Stop it. You’ve had David’s puny dick for too many years and you’re just now realizing what else is out there. Do not marry the first big dick you come across, Kate. It’ll end in another divorce.”
“I never said that word. Why, after everything, would I say that word? I’m just saying it’s complicated and I can’t let go.”
“Because you don’t want to.”
“Exactly.”
Lily sighs heavily. I drain the tub and slide into a robe in the silence, wondering if I really was the problem. Somehow, I ended up more confused than ever before. Nothing in my life can be easy.
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“Almost a week ago.”
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
“I don’t know.” I lie. Yesterday. We last spoke yesterday. “It’s not like we spend all night on the phone or text each other all day.”
“Dirty pictures?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh, yeah. This sounds like true love to me.”
“Stop it.” I scowl at the phone. “This is important to me, Lily. He’s important to me.”
“He is a sexual revolution and nothing more. As your best friend, it’s my duty to—”
A hard, imposing knock on the door echoes through my apartment. I toss off a quick goodbye and hang up on Lily before she can say anything else, and all but float to the door. I’m nothing but full body tingles and excitement.
Forget all the mess. I just want to get lost in Eric. We’ll call it one more time. For now.
Although, if Vivian really is checking up on me, she will absolutely murder me if she catches me with him. Another mental scale of good versus bad decisions weighs before me as another knock hits my door.
Maybe I should behave. Maybe I should say goodbye. For now. We can always reconnect after the divorce has been finalized, right? This would prove that we’re more than just occasional fuck buddies.
Except it’s not Eric outside my door.
“I’ve missed seeing you like this.” The voice that makes my skin crawl murmurs. David walks right into my apartment. “Robe, hair piled on top of your head. It’s very sexy.”
His words are like poison to my skin. “What do you want, David?”
“For you.” He presents a bouquet of pink roses. “A token of apology. I know I need more than that, but it’s a start.”
I don’t touch them. They could be laced with something.
“Look. I’m an idiot. A first-class idiot. I know you know this. I just want to tell you that you’re right and I’m sorry.” David wipes tears from his eyes. “I have been so lost without you, Kate. Nothing feels real anymore. I’ve tried to fill your void in my life and nothing compares.”
I snort at this, but quietly. Seeing him cry is… unnerving.
“Please, Kate, let’s talk this out. I love you. I miss you. I need you. I was a dumbass and I will apologize on my knees for the rest of my life. Please, take me back.”
“David.” I struggle to find words because I can’t even comprehend what I’m seeing right now. “You can’t just come in here, after everything that’s happened, and expect me to take you back. I’m done. We are done.”
“Please, Kate.” His voice drops to a whisper, teary streams turn to rivers on his cheeks. “Just talk to me. One drink to let me plead my case. Please.”
My arms stay tight at my sides, my personal shield. Still, watching him cry is a terrible thing. My resolve shatters in a blink.
“Fine. We can talk. I’m not coming back, but we can talk.” I walk backwards to my room to keep an eye on him. “I’ll change. You have one drink. That’s it.”
“Thank you.” He sniffs.
The entire time I’m pulling on some clothes, I feel like an idiot. I have no desire to get back with this man but I can’t just leave him sobbing on my couch. I’m not heartless. One drink, he can pay, and then I gain a clean conscience.
Except he is now naked in my living room. I squeeze my eyes before reopening them to make sure I’m not seeing things. Nope, he’s definitely naked in my living room. Grin on his face.
Somewhere below the smooth surface of Kate McArthur, a volcano erupts.
“Get out!” I yell, throwing everything within reach at him. “Get the hell out of my apartment!”
He doesn’t have time to plead or beg. He doesn’t have time to argue. I chase him out of my apartment, stark naked, with a weighted candlestick, and secure every lock on my door.
“I need my clothes!” he yells through the door.
The neatly folded pile rests on my chaise. I dump them out the window, into the evening traffic. The last thing I see is his button-down flying through the wind like a kite.