It’s Over
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T |
here were two choices here. Either Isabel blew her Christmas surprise now and just told him she was pregnant or she came clean about the unease she’d begun to feel around Elliot. But she figured even if she did tell him she was pregnant it still wouldn’t ease his mind about Elliot. She knew Romero too well. He knew her too well.
Clearly, he’d picked up on something about Elliot being off. Something about the way she reacted to his questioning about him tipped him off. While she was sure if she asked Elliot about the ornament he’d say it was for the baby, she got the feeling that his picking those specific words to have engraved on it was part of his mind games. She even suspected that, given the fact that her husband didn’t know about the pregnancy, Elliot knew this might be the reaction Romero would have. How could he not?
It pissed her off.
Now here she was in this predicament, and it was all Elliot’s fault. Since spoiling the surprise would only buy her a little more time before Romero continued to press about Elliot, she decided this wasn’t worth spoiling it yet. Christmas was just days away, and she was so looking forward to the surprise.
“It’s over now,” she began and immediately regretted her choice of words because Romero’s eyes were instantly lit.”
“What’s over, Isabel?” he boomed. “What did you—?”
“Nothing!” she said, reaching for his hand, but he pulled it away, backing up. “Nothing like that.” She shook her head. “I just mean any time I’ll be spending around him is over.”
“You said there’s more.” He looked so incredibly tense and tortured she wanted to hug him, but she didn’t dare.
“Nothing ever happened between him and me.”
“You have feelings for him?”
“No! Absolutely not.”
“Then just say it. You’re fucking killing me here.”
She took a deep breath. “I just started getting a weird vibe from him,” she said then quickly added, “but he never did or said anything wrong. It was . . .” She glanced around. “I can’t even explain it. It was just the way he said things and how he looked at me sometimes. But it was so subtle I felt a little full of myself even thinking it.”
“You weren’t wrong,” he said, his jaw as tight as ever. “I was only around the guy one time, and I felt it too.”
“Well, the longer I was around him, the more I began to think that maybe there was more to the things he said to me.”
“Like what?”
Damn it. She’d hoped he wouldn’t ask for specifics. She made a face and began to shrug but took a few steps forward, leaning against the center island. “Tell me,” he said, slipping his hand in hers.
His eyes were still staring at her in that intense way they had been almost from the moment he walked in, but something about them mesmerized her now. Maybe it was the fact that he’d calmed down and not only was he touching her now she knew she’d managed to talk him down. It’d actually hurt when he’d pulled away from her moments ago. For just an instant, she got a taste of what it might be like if he were no longer hers to touch. So feeling his hand in hers—the way he stared so deeply into her eyes—was captivating.
“The day I did my first full lecture he said he didn’t think he could be more fascinated with me than he already was.”
Though he’d calmed considerably since the beginning of her admission, she still saw the momentary fire in his eyes. “What else?” He pressed himself against her.
“Just little things,” she said. “I don’t remember all of them.”
“Yes, you do.” He leaned in and kissed her softly, nipping her bottom lip. “You wouldn’t be standing here admitting all this if it was so insignificant you couldn’t remember.” He kissed her a bit deeper, and it amazed her that after all these years he could make her feel as she did just then: so utterly mesmerized she actually shivered. He lifted her chin with her finger, staring at her with the intense hazel eyes she’d been so hopelessly in love with for years. “Tell me, baby. What else?”
She gulped, knowing this next one would really piss him off, but she was helpless to not comply with anything he asked of her now. “I’d already told him I’d made up my mind that I wasn’t coming back after Christmas break. A few days later . . .”
Isabel paused, trying to break the spell-like trance he had on her by looking away, but his fingers nudged her chin back, and their eyes locked again. “A few days later, what?”
“A few days later, just, when I finished grading the finals faster than he imagined I would, he said . . .”
She tried to look away again. “Look at me,” he whispered, his expression easing up, and he actually smiled. “It’s okay. What did he say?”
“He said he couldn’t believe I wasn’t coming back—to him—after the break.”
The instant blaze in his eyes stayed around a little longer this time, and Isabel could see his jaw working, but he said nothing for a few seconds. “Then he caught up to you at the mall today to give you that ornament and whisper in your ear that he hoped it wasn’t goodbye forever.” It was more of a statement than a question, but Isabel still nodded in response. “You still think there’s nothing to that ornament?”
If she thought it might make things better, she’d just fess up now about being pregnant. But after the way he just put things, she knew now for certain there was so much more to that ornament than Elliot just gifting it to her baby. “No,” she whispered.
His eyes lost that fire suddenly, and for a moment, he looked vulnerable. “And you never had any feelings for him, right, Izzy? Be honest.”
She pulled away, her anger finally breaking the trance she’d fallen into. “It pisses me off that you would even question that.”
He pulled her to him, hugging her tightly and kissing the top of her head. “You have no idea how fucking insane that would make me.”
“Oh, I think I have plenty idea.” She tried to push him away but was no match for how tightly he hugged her, so she wrapped her arms around him instead.
“I don’t think I’m gonna be able to stomach seeing even the ornaments this asshole got the kids on the tree.” He looked down at her with a hopeful frown. “You think they’ll notice if we get rid of them?”
“Babe, I know for a fact those aren’t cheap.”
The fire was back and blazing. “I don’t give a shit. The intention behind those fucking ornaments is enough to make me wanna smash them out in the street.”
“Don’t,” she said quickly. “That’s not the kind of holiday memory I want my kids to have: their enraged daddy smashing their ornaments out in the street.”
Romero smirked at that. She never loved seeing the humor in those eyes more than when he was just coming down from such an intense discussion.
“We’ll say they fell and broke,” she offered. “But give it a couple of days at least.”
“The ‘sweet darling’ one isn’t even going up,” he said, raising a brow. “I can’t believe you actually thought I was gonna let that happen.”
She had to laugh now. Jesus, what a day she’d had! “I didn’t want the kids to think there was anything weird about it.”
“But you do agree that there is, right?”
“Yes.” She nodded, touching his tensed-up abs over his shirt. “I do agree.”
“Not just weird. Fucking maddening that the asshole would try to pull a fast one like that,” he added as his abs went even tenser. “He had to know this would piss me off, Izzy. Just makes me wonder what the fuck he was thinking.”
It made Isabel wonder what Elliot was thinking too. Did he mean to cause friction between her and Romero? Could he have possibly thought that maybe Isabel was actually into his mind games and this was his way of cluing Romero in on it for his own sick pleasure?
Isabel had never been a cynical person, but she knew Romero could be. She could only hope that what she’d said to Elliot today about it being a small world and that they’d likely run into each other wouldn’t actually happen, especially not when she was with Romero. Her husband may’ve come a long way from his days of smashing heads in, but she’d seen it in his eyes tonight. If he ever did, things would get really ugly.
“Baby,” he said, looking a little worried now. “I don’t want to argue about this guy ever again, but you gotta know if he ever calls or texts you—”
“I won’t be responding to anything from him,” she said, squeezing his arm.
She was a grown-ass woman, and normally, she wouldn’t be taking orders from headquarters about who she was allowed to be friends with or talk to. Being married to a man like Romero, she’d set the precedent early on, or he would’ve cut off every single male acquaintance she had. Not that she had very many. But she wasn’t stupid either. After tonight’s argument and finally admitting out loud what she’d been feeling about Elliot’s behavior, she knew now nothing good would come of her continuing any type of relationship with the man. Not only that, Romero knew exactly where to find Elliot. No way was she risking Romero’s feeling the need to pay Elliot a visit to warn him face to face about staying away from his wife.
The relief in Romero’s face was fleeting. Just like that his face went hard again. “And to think that bastard weaseled his way into spending Thanksgiving with us—with you.”
He grunted, fisting his hand, and Isabel knew that was it. If she let him, he’d get himself all worked up again. She explained about the kids having had dinner already because they’d been hungry early. Her lie about having a stomach bug actually came in handy because she had a good excuse as to why she wasn’t eating dinner with him.
Not surprisingly, their lovemaking that night was intense and went on for a while. They almost forgot about carrying out their tooth fairy duties.
The next morning she slept in on a weekday for the first time in over two months. It felt so good too. She must’ve been really out because she hadn’t even felt Romero leave or heard him shower. The kids were still out, so she took advantage of the quiet to go downstairs and enjoy her coffee in peace.
She didn’t even notice when she’d walked through the dining room into the kitchen, but she stopped on the way through it again into the living room. The box with the ornament Elliot had given her was gone. She glanced at the tree and saw the kids’ ornaments were gone too.
“Damn it, Romero,” she whispered.
She should’ve known he wouldn’t give it even a few days. Taking a deep breath, she let it go. No sense in opening up that can of worms again. What was done was done. No sooner had she taken a sip of her coffee than she felt her stomach go sour and she rushed to the restroom.
What she’d concentrate on instead now was getting through the next couple of days without spoiling the surprise she’d sacrificed so much for already.
~*~
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H |
alfway down the hall of the nearly empty university building, Romero began to wonder if the professor would even be here. The place seemed abandoned already. Save for the few students he’d seen here and there, the place was empty. Even the parking lot had been nearly empty, but the lady at the office where he’d asked about the location of his classroom said the guy was here today.
Romero walked into the empty classroom, holding the gift box with the ornaments. He wanted it to be the first thing the asshole saw, but to his disappointment there was no one in the classroom. Glancing around, he took in the place where Izzy had been spending so much time with this guy.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, remembering how she’d mentioned being alone with Elliot. Knowing what this guy had been up to the whole time made Romero want to fling the box with the ornaments against the wall. But he’d said he’d be mature about this. He just wanted to get something straight with this guy. He was on to him, and he had absolutely no qualms about coming down here and beating the shit out of him in front of all his students if he so much as tried to stay in contact with Izzy.
After today, this place would be closed down for weeks, so it was more than disappointing that, even when he walked all the way in and checked the back rooms, Elliot was nowhere to be seen. He walked up to the desk and set the box down. He decided that leaving the gift there was not a clear enough message, so he grabbed one of the sticky notes on the desk and a pen.
It was a challenge not to cuss in the note, but he wanted to be adult about this. He thought about it almost the whole night last night even after Izzy had fallen asleep. There was no way he was going to let this go without saying something to the guy. He’d gone back and forth, debating whether he just should, but in the end, he’d come to a compromise. If he were going to do this, he’d do it as soon as possible—before it started to eat at him and he stormed down here with a wrench in his hand—and he’d be mature about it. At least try to hold out as long as possible.
He read the note back, satisfied it was good enough: clear and to the point. There was no way it could be misinterpreted. It’d been impossible not to cuss. But Romero reasoned that all bullshitting aside as adult as he said he’d be about this, Elliot was a lucky man that Romero hadn’t found him today. The whole way here, Romero had felt the ticking of the time bomb getting louder. By the time he’d gotten out of his car, Romero was fairly certain Elliot would be getting at least one good one to the fucking mouth for all the things he had so subtly been saying to his wife. So he figured Elliot had gotten off way easy with a little cussing in writing.
Asshole,
If you’re as intelligent as you’re supposed to be, we’ll never hear from you again.
Use that same brain to figure out where you can shove these ornaments.
Romero
a.k.a. Isabel’s husband.
He stuck the sticky note on the gift box and walked out slowly, still hoping the guy might walk in, but he didn’t. As satisfying as it was to know that there’d be no doubt that Romero knew what the professor had been up to and that it hadn’t been appreciated, a small part of him still wondered if there were any way Izzy had been taken by this guy’s intelligence.
He’d never questioned whether or not he and Izzy were meant to be. There was no doubt in his mind that he couldn’t live without her. He’d been saying for years, even before they were married, that she was perfect, and for just as long, she’d been proving him right. Not just because of her looks and how perfectly they got along, but even Manny and Max often made note of what a devoted wife and mother she was. Even if she hadn’t turned out to be as neat, organized, and perfect at parenting, Romero would still be crazy about her, but all those things were just the icing on the ever-loving cake. She was sexy as shit, and they could talk nonstop. As timid as she’d appeared to be when he’d first met her, she’d been making him laugh from day one. She was funny as shit. At least he thought so, even though most the time she didn’t understand why she made him laugh so much.
Deep down he had to wonder sometimes if she didn’t secretly crave the deeper more thought-provoking conversation a guy like Elliot could provide. Romero had always listened to her every word when she told him about the books she was reading and the lectures she was working on. He commented and asked questions because he was genuinely interested. But he knew if she spoke to Elliot about the same shit his bullshit comments were likely way more profound than Romero’s. He wanted to believe with all his heart that, no matter how fucking brilliant and perfect she was, she still felt him worthy of her love.