Chapter 11 Cleo #2
The silence lingered for a moment before she hesitantly spoke again. “Maybe this is a good thing.”
My laugh was hollow. “Yeah, okay. In what world is Grady freaking Wilde showing back up in my life a good thing?” Surely, she was joking, right?
“I dunno, Cleo. Maybe the universe is giving you a chance—”
“A chance at what?” I asked, instantly wincing at my tone. It was harsher than I intended, but I didn’t apologize.
She sighed. “Aren’t you tired of spending your life hating him?”
I shook my head. “There’s no way—”
“Nope. Stop,” she said sharply. “Think about it, Cleo. You’ve been hung up on this man for over twenty years. He was your first love. Your first everything. Don’t you think it might warrant a conversation?”
“He’s never given me the chance before, so why should I? Every opportunity saw him running for the hills.”
Back to work.
Back to Tennessee.
Back to her.
“Why’re you letting him be the moral compass you judge your actions against? It seems to me the best thing would’ve been to put this to rest ages ago, but you’re both too goddamn stubborn to do it.” Rachel blew out a breath. “Just talk to him, Cleo. I think you’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“I’m not stubborn.”
Rachel barked a laugh. “Yeah, okay, and I don’t have a great ass.”
“Whatever.” I gnawed on my lip, mulling over her words. “What would we even talk about? The weather? You know small talk isn’t my thing.”
She sighed. “Well, he’s obviously back for a reason. Put all the shit in the past aside and find out why.”
“He’s watching his dad’s house while he’s on vacation. That’s it. That’s the reason.”
Even though I couldn’t see her, I still knew Rachel was rolling her eyes. “Oh my god, you don’t seriously believe that, do you?”
“Well, yeah—”
“You’re telling me his dad conveniently chose to go on vacation at the same time you’re holding a children’s summer camp his daughter is attending? Come on, Cleo.” I opened my mouth to respond, but she cut me off. “Listen, I’ve got company, but—”
Company? I heard a man’s voice on the other end, which she promptly hushed.
Oh. Company.
“Oh my god! Why’d you let me ramble, then?” I cringed, knowing exactly why she was out of breath at the beginning of our phone call now.
“Because you needed me. Now, I’m gonna go get fuc—”
“Goodbye, Rach,” I said, hanging up and tossing the phone onto my bed.
With a sigh, I stepped into my small ensuite bathroom. There weren’t many perks to being the oldest kid, but I was grateful for it. Especially when my sisters became obsessed with going through my things.
I looked into the mirror, running my fingers along my face. After years of having to wear full-coverage foundation, I found quiet joy in simply applying a tinted moisturizer before walking out the door. The problem now was it didn’t hide just how exhausted I was.
It didn’t take long for me to mentally catalogue everything I saw that I didn’t like. My lips were too thin. The bags beneath my eyes stood out more than the wrinkles between my brows. Gray hairs were showing along my temples because it’d been way too long since I’d gotten my hair done.
I hadn’t cared about any of that twenty-four hours ago, so why did it suddenly feel like there were neon signs and flashing arrows above my head pointing them out?
“Pull yourself together, girl,” I muttered beneath my breath, and turned toward the tub.
All I needed was a hot shower. That would make me feel better. Maybe even some of those stupid undereye patches Rachel was always raving about. It couldn’t hurt, right? Maybe it was one of those things where if I believed they’d cure every issue then they would.
I closed my eyes as I stepped beneath the water, letting it run along my skin like a comforting embrace—which felt a lot more depressing when I realized how long it’d been since anyone touched me.
Sure, I was around my family who gave out hugs like candy on Halloween, but from a partner?
I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d felt that kind of tenderness.
Thomas had been overly affectionate at the beginning of our relationship, to the point I probably should’ve caught on to some red flags. The sad truth was I was so desperate to be loved and desired after Grady and I broke up that I didn’t see them until it was too late.
That affection dimmed over the years until it became a chore—something I felt like I had to do so he wouldn’t get angry.
It worked for a while, until it didn’t. I could still remember the first time I felt his violence.
How he’d come home after a bad day at work and started yelling at me the moment he stepped through the door about dinner not being ready yet.
With heated words and burning anger, I felt the sting of his palm long after he left me crying on the floor clutching my cheek.
It only went downhill from there. By the time we separated, it’d been over a year since we’d had sex. He would ask occasionally, telling me he was so sorry for the way things had been, but I’d been hearing that for years.
I was mentally checked out and wanted nothing to do with him or the pain he caused me.
But now, standing here in the same bathroom I grew up in, I found myself missing that kind of affection. Not with Thomas, obviously. But it’d be nice to experience an orgasm without turning over and reaching for the vibrator tucked away in my nightstand.
Rachel had gotten the thing for me as a joke. She called it my “Congrats on getting divorced!” gift. It was bright pink and had way too many settings—most of which I’d never used.
The orgasms were better than anything I’d had with my ex-husband, though.
I’d never been the most adventurous partner in bed.
I never really gave myself the chance. Grady and I were each other’s first. In the time between our end and the beginning of me and Thomas, there’d only been a handful of drunken make-outs that never turned into anything more.
I’d been too nervous to take it any further.
Sometimes I wished I hadn’t been. Sometimes I wished I’d let loose and run a little wild instead of staying home and crying.
Maybe if I had, getting over him wouldn’t have been as hard. Maybe I wouldn’t have married some asshole just to fill a void or found myself carrying around an irrational anger for almost twenty years.
I didn’t realize how long I’d been standing beneath the water contemplating my life until the shower began to run cold.
Quickly, I shut it off and stepped into the small, steam-filled space.
The fabric of my towel felt rough against my skin as I quickly dried off.
Now that I’d acknowledged how long it’d been, my body was inherently aware of what it’d been deprived of.
Even though I knew I could handle the problem myself, my body was rejecting the idea. She knew it wouldn’t be as good as it could be with someone who knew what they were doing. Someone who would draw out the pleasure and let it build until it met a cataclysmic crescendo…
Someone like Grady.
I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to force out the thoughts of what it would be like to kiss him again. To touch him in ways that were neither appropriate nor possible. I had no idea what was going on with him personally, not that I had a right to. Not anymore.
Charlie spoke highly of both her parents. It was obvious she was well-loved and cherished, but there was no mention of them living separately or her bouncing around between two houses. Something had to have happened, though. Otherwise, why would Grady be here when he’d built his life in Tennessee?
I was stuck somewhere between desperately wanting answers and hoping they never came. Looking over at the clock, I cursed as I noticed the time staring back at me.
11:11 p.m.
It may have been a lifetime since our last kiss, but I still remember it.
I was cursed to remember everything.