Even though it was past midnight and she was curled up with the sexiest man on the planet, Violet could not sleep. She was overwhelmed with thoughts of Michael, his family, and her own husband who was due home in approximately fourteen hours. It was hard to believe that by this time tomorrow night, she would probably be lying in bed next to Alex instead of Michael. She stroked Michael’s hair and stole a glance at his peaceful, sleeping face. He was snoring softly, and she wished she could do the same.
Violet finally gave in to the restlessness and pulled herself out of bed, being careful not to wake up Michael. She went into the hotel bathroom. She brushed her teeth and washed her face. She smiled as she thought about how perfect the evening had been. Michael and she had made love for hours and then finished off the champagne and chocolates. After that, he carried her to the large Jacuzzi tub where he washed her hair and scrubbed her back. Looking back, the night felt like a dream. When it came to her attraction to Michael, it wasn’t just about the sex. Of course the sex was great, but in addition to being a tremendous lover, he was also a wonderful friend. Over the past few months, they had shared more deep conversations than she had shared with everyone she had ever known combined. He was charming, funny, and loyal.
Loyal seemed like a strange way to describe him, considering his infidelity. Perhaps she was being naïve, but she knew it wasn’t in Michael’s nature to hurt people, and despite his feelings for her, she could tell he was tormented by his current situation.
While taking a bath, Michael had opened up with her about his current relationship. Violet refrained from saying anything negative about Penelope. After all, she had never met the woman, and one of her greatest pet peeves was catty women who liked nothing better than to bash one another.
Michael had a lot of good things to say about Penelope. She was pretty much the exact opposite of his first wife. She was responsible, grounded, and matronly. She liked him home for dinner by seven, and she attended all of her daughter’s cheerleading games diligently.
Violet could tell he had reached a sore spot in the story when he started to talk about Penelope’s daughter, Angela. Angela had been fatherless since the age of six, and apparently, she and Michael’s son, Elijah, had really hit it off. Although he described his relationship with Angela as rocky at first, it became apparent that both Angela and Michael had grown attached to each other over the past year. And then there was Elijah…
Michael broke down when he talked about the years that it had just been he and Elijah. It was obvious he felt horrible for every mistake he had made along the way. Michael admitted that he had felt awkward comforting his son after Lexi left. He could barely take care of himself, much less a small child, he admitted. Violet could see the shame in his eyes as he talked on and on about missed birthdays, bouncing Elijah around from one babysitter to the next, and teaching the boy to basically fend for himself on nights when he was working late.
Michael’s humility was one thing she loved about him. Despite his confident demeanor and dashing good looks, he was just as damaged and insecure as she, if not more so.
Violet tried to reassure Michael that he had raised Elijah the best way he knew how and that she admired his courage after experiencing the devastating loss of his wife and his son’s mother. She told him something she once heard her Granny say: “Bad parents don’t sit around wondering if they are bad parents. So, anytime I hear a parent questioning their skills or ruminating over something they should have done, or could have done better for their children, I know right away that they’re good parents. Bad parents do not know that they’re bad parents because they don’t care enough about their children to stop and question themselves.”
Michael had fallen asleep watching an old western shortly after eleven. She loved watching him sleep, and she wondered if he was dreaming. She prayed that if he was, the dreams were good ones.
Violet used the bathroom and headed over to the small dinette table that was located next to the TV set. She felt inspired to write down some ideas for her book and regretted not bringing her laptop.
She flipped on the small reading light next to the table and found a pad of paper and pens in one of the desk drawers. She settled down into a chair and lit a cigarette before jotting down a few notes she could refer to later when she got home to her computer.
Violet’s thoughts were quickly disturbed by a sound at the door. It almost sounded like someone was turning the knob. Perhaps some intoxicated person had come to their door by mistake. After all, this is a hotel, she thought.
She tried to focus her thoughts back to her writing, but then she heard what sounded like a keycard sliding in the lock, and the next thing she knew, some blonde woman threw open the hotel room door and charged right at her.