Only for Love (Only For #2)

Chapter 1 – Lexi

one

Lexi

“Good class,” the Pilates instructor, Chelsea, says as she claps her hands. “You guys did great!”

I smile at her and get off my Pilates reformer, walking over to grab the spray bottle; my legs buckling a bit after the workout I just did. I spray the disinfectant on my machine before wiping it down.

“Thank you again, Chelsea,” I say, picking up my water and returning the spray bottle near the front of the room.

Snatching my keys and phone from one of the wooden cubbies at the front door, I head out into the Arizona heat. The sun is already scorching even though it’s just a little before 7:00 a.m. I press the unlock button and slide into my champagne-colored Bentley, a birthday gift two months ago.

I start the car and pull out of the parking lot to head home.

The soft music plays in the background, a classical number, something I never thought I would come to like, but with time it grew on me.

The mountains in the distance fill up my view as I make my way into the gated community my husband and I live in.

Driving past the golf course, I pull in front of my black garage door and turn the car off, grabbing my stuff before walking past the four other garage doors, which are all closed with no cars parked in front of them.

The first garage door holds Trent’s everyday Land Rover.

The second one holds his BMW, which he drives on occasion.

The third has the golf cart he takes when he’s going to play golf, and the fourth is the Rolls-Royce he bought himself as a gift.

That one he only uses when he wants to show off.

Walking past the windows I know are in my dining room, I see the shades are still drawn.

I look down at my running shoes as I turn and walk down the white bricked walkway toward the front door.

I open the front door and put my keys on the glass table by the door next to a green-colored vase with fresh white roses.

Something that is replaced every couple of days.

I untie my shoes before kicking them off and placing them in the sliding door closet on my right and slip on my indoor slippers before walking toward the kitchen.

I pass the formal dining room on my left, where we entertain all of Trent’s friends. The brown table with ten chairs looks more like it’s a conference room than someplace where you would have your meals and enjoy time with friends.

The whole house has a museum-like feeling to it, something I’ve come to live with.

I’ve grown used to the lack of warmth from both the house and our marriage.

I turn left when I get to the big open space, going toward the kitchen and stopping in my tracks when I see Trent sitting on one of the stools.

My pulse speeds up a bit not expecting him to be up at this time, let alone dressed and sitting at the island.

The long marble island off to the left holds six stools.

Two chandeliers hang over it with gold wiring.

It’s a dream kitchen. Beautiful, opulent, a facade. ..

“Morning,” I greet him softly. “I didn’t know you would be up so early.

” I walk over and kiss his cheek. He’s already dressed in black dress pants and a white button-up shirt, the smell of his aftershave lingers.

His black hair is cut perfectly since he goes every two weeks to have it trimmed.

It’s also styled perfectly without a hair out of place.

“Is that why you snuck out of the house?” he asks, picking up his cup of coffee from beside him as he scrolls on his massive iPad, reading the news.

“I didn’t sneak out of the house.” My hand moves over the top of the granite island counter gently, feeling the coolness of it, before I pull open one of the fridge doors.

I grab the fresh pineapple and strawberries before walking to the butler’s pantry behind the wall of the kitchen.

I make my protein shake, adding in half a banana, before walking back out and taking a sip of it.

“Where did you go?” he asks me, not taking his eyes off the iPad.

“I went to the six a.m. Pilates class,” I tell him and his eyes look up at me, before giving the top half of me a look up and down. The frown on his face telling me what I already know. The outfit is going in the donate pile as soon as I wash it.

“Dressed like that?” he asks me. I look down at the white workout T-shirt I have on that shows my black sports bra underneath it and matching black tights. “You’re just giving it away for free now.” He shakes his head.

“It’s a class full of women.” I take a sip, looking down at the outfit I bought two weeks ago, thinking it would look nice with my skin tone.

“I thought I told you to do the private classes here.” His voice is calm.

“You have that whole workout room. I bought you the reformer and everything. Wouldn’t it be so much easier for you if you just did them here?

You wouldn’t need to leave the house. It’s better to have one-on-one classes anyway, isn’t it? ”

“She couldn’t get me in this week,” I reply.

“Then find someone else,” he states, not leaving room for a response, and I just nod my head.

“Besides, I don’t think what she is doing is helping you.

You seem a bit pudgy these days.” The lump forms in my throat.

“You shouldn’t even be drinking that shake, it’s full of sugar.

” He sighs. “I thought we discussed this already, and you said you would be going back on the diet that works for you.”

“I weigh the same thing I do every single day,” I inform him, knowing it’ll just piss him off.

“Well, your scale must be broken.” He pushes away from the island and comes over to me, grabbing the protein shake and dumping it into the sink. “No sugar, no carbs,” he orders. “It’s not good for you and makes you puffy.”

“Okay,” I reply, not willing to argue with him. Instead, I walk over to the fridge and grab the eggs out of it. “Why are you up so early?”

“I have to go to work so you can afford to not go to work,” he snaps at me. “I have surgery at eight.”

“That’s earlier than usual,” I respond, grabbing a pot.

“I have a meeting with Cheryl this morning at ten.” I mention the head of the fundraising committee for the hospital where he’s the head of neurosurgery.

“We are doing the final touches on the charity auction we are doing next month.” He sits back down on his stool.

“It’s a bachelor auction,” I tell him, as if he’s listening to me.

“I was thinking of reaching out to some of my cousins to see if they would…” I trail off when he looks up at me.

“You will not.” He shakes his head. “I have an image to uphold and having your scrappy hockey player relatives coming to my place of work isn’t a good look. Some of them don’t even have teeth.”

I shake my head. “That’s not true,” I mumble.

“Why don’t you leave the bachelor part to Cheryl and you take care of the rest? If you are coming to the hospital today, don’t forget what I said.” I nod at him. “When you are there, you are representing me.”

“I know.” I put water into the pot and then rinse out the protein shake he tossed into the sink. “Do you think you’ll have time for lunch?”

“Not sure. Depends on if anyone else is around that I need to talk to.” He pushes away from the island, meaning if someone else is more important than you, you can fend for yourself. “I’m not sure if I’m coming home tonight or not.”

“Okay. Maybe I can come stay with you in the city, then.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I have an early flight to New York in the morning, and we both know you disturb my sleep with all the noise you make.”

“How long will you be in New York?” I ask him, again ignoring another dig he throws my way.

“Why? You going to take off again and not be here when I come home?” he snaps.

He reminds me of the time he said he was going to be gone for two days, so I snuck out and went to my best friend’s baby shower.

Only for him to call me in the middle of it and tell me to get my ass back home because we had dinner plans he never told me about.

“I have too much to do with the auction to take off, so I’ll be here.”

He seems satisfied with my answer as he stops beside me. “Poached eggs are a perfect breakfast for you,” he says cheerfully. “Do you need me to pick out your outfit for today, or can you do it yourself?”

“I was going to wear my white summer dress with the blue flowers on it.”

“Isn’t that one sleeveless?” He tilts his head to the side. “Your arms are not the best part of you.” He smiles. “How about you wear something to cover those flappy arms. Besides, you aren’t going for tea; it’s a meeting, you dress accordingly.”

“Okay, I’ll wear the green pencil skirt with the white wraparound cotton shirt,” I tell him and he smiles.

“That sounds beautiful.” He nods. “Now, don’t forget to put your best foot forward.” He kisses me. “Have a good day.”

I nod at him as he grabs his iPad and walks out the front door. The pot of water is boiling on the stove now, and I think about making the poached egg but opt to not eat anything and grab a cup of coffee instead.

Settling in with my cup of coffee, I make my round of texts to my family members.

I text my father first.

Me:

Hey, Dad, just touching base. Hope you and Mom are well.

I press send before I tell him how much I miss him some days, and pull up the text thread with Ariella, my best friend. I speak to her more than anyone because she is the one who asks me the least questions, and I don’t have to lie to her constantly.

Me:

How is baby Jagger? Send me some cute pictures.

I smile before pulling up the text thread with my sister, Zara, and the last time she messaged me was two weeks ago. She sent me pictures of the twins, and I had a small breakdown at how big they have gotten and then hated myself for not being around more.

My last message to her was me telling her I hoped I could visit soon. Trent won’t approve, but I should still try.

Grabbing my cup of coffee, I walk up the stairs and toward my bedroom.

Trent and I have had separate bedrooms for the last three years.

He just couldn’t sleep properly with me in the bed.

Apparently, I tossed and turned too much and woke him each time.

So we have bedrooms at the opposite ends of the house.

Walking in, I see the bed already made since I make it as soon as I get up. I start the shower and take off my gym clothes, putting them in the donate pile that I make once a month, before stepping into the shower. It’s always full of the clothes Trent doesn’t like me to wear.

I take my time doing my hair, parting it in the middle and then smoothing it down. I got my black hair from my mother, who has the same color. I tuck it behind my ears before doing my soft, everyday makeup. My crystal-blue eyes pop even more when I apply the black mascara.

Stepping into my walk-in closet, I see all my clothes tucked away neatly behind see-through cupboard doors to keep the dust off them.

All my clothing is sorted by type and then by color.

I walk over to the middle of the room and grab a matching white-bra-and-panty set before I slip the green skirt on.

I zip up the side zipper before grabbing the white shirt and tying it in a bow on the side.

I then go to grab the pair of sky-high nude pumps I usually wear, with a peep toe since it’s summer outside.

By the time I switch my things into a matching-colored Hermes bag, I’m right on schedule. My car is still outside and it’s even more ridiculously hot out, so I start the car and leave the door open for a second before getting in.

My stomach rumbles as I make my way over to the hospital and I think about stopping and quickly grabbing some egg whites from the local coffee shop, but then I might be late and I will never, ever risk being late. I pull up to the hospital and scan the visitor card I use.

Holding my purse in my hand, I walk into the hospital, the cool air hitting me right away.

The atrium is filled with plants and the ceiling is all windows, making it extra bright and cheery.

I make my way toward the elevator, but stop when I see Cheryl standing laughing with someone.

His back is to me, but he’s wearing jeans and a white T-shirt.

I can see he has tattoos on his arms. Cheryl spots me over the stranger’s shoulder, and I can hear her softly say, “There she is.”

I put on the smile I have to have on. The smile I’m trained to have when I’m in the hospital or anywhere around Trent or his friends.

It happens in slow motion, or maybe that’s the way I think it happens in my head.

Everything around me stops, feeling like even the people stop in their tracks.

The sound of my own heartbeat thumps in my ears when I see his side profile and the smile on my face almost falters, but I quickly recover it.

“Kirby, I’d like for you to meet my co-chair,” Cheryl says with glee. “Lexi Yoder.”