10. No Crying in a Sex Club
NO CRYING IN A SEX CLUB
Since my divorce, I’ve been curating my life around my wants and it’s been freeing. The only person I have to worry about is me, along with the only person I need to please.
For the first time in my life, the decor in my house is everything I like.
The nude Maria Szanth painting I purchased five years ago is now proudly on display in my foyer. My books are on shelves, on the floor, on my nightstand, truly wherever the fuck I want them to be.
Hell, I even have a cat room. Will was allergic to cats, and now I have four: Frida, Berthe, Edvard, and Michelangelo.
I have a good job, one that I love and I’m passionate about.
Then, there’s the copious amount of free time I have.
Usually, I consider it a blessing. I can go out with my friends when I want, read till my eyes can’t form a word on a page anymore, or binge watch an entire season of a show in a day.
Maybe it’s the heat of the summer or the fact that all my friends have been busy doing various things. But for the first time since my divorce, I feel lonely. Not in the sense that I want a relationship or need someone by my side twenty-four seven, I just need some human interaction.
During the school year, this isn’t a problem.
I spend so much time at the university, lecturing, talking, and just being around people.
I wouldn’t consider myself an extrovert, but I’m not completely introverted either.
I love my alone time, but I also really enjoy talking and having fun with others.
As much as I love escaping into a good book or a good show, nothing seems to shake this feeling, so I’m going to push myself to be brave.
Being consciously single shouldn’t mean that I need other people to do things. Hell, I went to a sex club by myself and look how that turned out? Amazingly.
I’ve constantly replayed both of my nights with Ben, flip flopping between scenes based on my mood.
If I can be brave enough in my own sexual liberation, I can absolutely go to a sushi restaurant and sit confidently by myself and interact with people, or maybe not. Maybe I just eat, drink, and observe.
I dress for myself in a dark blue sundress that makes me feel pretty and drive to my favorite spot.
I haven’t been here since Will and I split up, because it was our place.
But I miss it, and if he got a new wife and kid out of the divorce, I should absolutely win our sushi spot.
Plus, I’ve tried other places and none of them compare.
It’s a Wednesday night, and not busy at all.
I get seated at the bar right away, a small glass of sake in front of me as I make my dinner selection.
Pop hits are bumping through the restaurant and three TVs are showing the news and various shows behind the bar.
Even if I don’t strike up a conversation with someone, this is enough.
I got out of the house, showered, and I’m around human life. I consider it a win as I order my sushi and sit back and people watch.
There’s a couple clearly on an awkward first date, a few men who just finished an evening of golf, some women meeting up for drinks, and the other occasional patrons I can’t place.
The salmon sashimi melts like butter against my tongue and I hum in happiness, annoyed with myself that I avoided my favorite place for so long.
“It’s good to see you again,” Botan, my favorite bartender, says.
“I’m glad to be back. Please tell the chef that this is insanely good,” I say, accenting my words with my chopsticks as I grab another piece of fish and enjoy every single bite.
I don’t know why I was so scared to come here alone, there was nothing to worry about.
Then it happens.
They walk through the door, and I feel my heart sink. Is there no sacred fucking dining establishment in Tampa where I won’t run into my ex-husband and his new family?
When Will sees me, he doesn’t seem surprised, and I find it odd. Did he know I was going to be here tonight?
He kisses the side of his wife’s head and she glares at me with her deep set brown eyes. She has on a heavy winged eyeliner that makes her look older and the glare she’s giving me is more severe. I just stare at her blankly.
I wonder to myself if she worries about Will’s fidelity, clearly he had no issues cheating on me with her. Could she possibly feel insecure over the idea he’d turn around and do the same thing to her?
It would be karma, and as much as I might hate Will and his wife, even I wouldn’t wish that on her.
Now small inconveniences, yes, I hope Karoline shits her pants in the car when she’s running late for something.
Sure, maybe I wish she leans too close to a candle and all her hair catches fire.
But having the man you care about most in the world breaking your trust, and hurting you as deeply as he did me, even I can’t wish that on this bitch.
Will approaches me, and I groan, throwing back the rest of my sake, and pushing it away from me, indicating that I want more.
“Kate,” he says, his tone far less shitty than it was the last time we ran into one another.
“What do you want, Will?” I ask, even though I know what he wants.
“You know what I want. What is it going to take for you to sell me those shares?” he asks.
His brown eyes that I used to find charming lock onto mine and I tilt my head.
“Do you even have the money to buy me out?” I ask, digging my claws in ever so slightly.
It only seems fair. Money was always a point of contention in our relationship, mostly because I had it and Will didn’t. I send up a silent prayer to my Aunt Helene, thanking her for forcing me to get a prenup before we got married.
Back then, Will fought me on it. He didn’t understand why we needed a prenup when we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.
Genuinely, I thought the same. But Aunt Helene?
She was the smartest woman I ever knew, and she made it easier by telling me she would leave all her money to an animal shelter like the woman in Aristocats if I didn’t protect myself before getting married.
I miss her so much, her wisdom, her laugh, all the times we had together.
Thinking about her makes me feel even more alone than I did earlier.
I’ve been an orphan for a long time, but right now, besides Savannah and Chelsea, I don’t feel like I have a family at all.
The only other person I had strong ties to is standing in front of me, looking at me like we didn’t share nearly two decades of our lives together.
It makes me hate Will even more. The shares are the only thing I have control over. He took my youth, my sense of family, my pride. He took small pieces of me without me even noticing, and he’s delusional if he thinks I’ll bend and give him what he wants now.
“Yes, I have the funds secured,” he says, and I arch an eyebrow at him.
His wording is strange, meaning maybe it’s not his money or maybe the company was doing better than I thought.
I’m not surprised, Dennis Commercial has been in the red these past few years.
It’s one of the many things he blamed his infidelity on.
He was struggling at work; I didn’t understand; I wasn’t there for him enough.
“I have no interest in selling at this time,” I say, as the bartender slides the refill of sake toward me. He’s clearly keeping a close eye on the altercation between me and Will.
He grabs my arm, squeezing it just to the point of it being uncomfortable, but not enough to truly hurt.
“Listen, I appreciate the fact that you gave me the capital to start my business and I’m sorry things didn’t work out between us. I’m offering to give you more than what you put into it, but it’s my company, Kate.”
“Yes, you’re technically the CEO. Your last name is on the sign, but I do own fifty-five percent. Which is a fact that didn’t bother you our entire marriage. You never offered to buy me out then. Give me one good reason why I should sell now?”
“Goddamn it, Kate, this isn’t a fucking joke. This is my life. Sell the fucking shares and be rid of me completely. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
“My lawyer and business manager handle everything. I’m not involved in Dennis Commercial.
Truly, there’s no reason for us to ever have to see each other, besides the fact you keep showing up places where I just so happen to be.
Now, I’d like to finish my meal in peace,” I say, trying to turn my body.
His grip on my arm tightens more, and I swallow thickly.
“Sir, I think it’s best you take a step away,” Botan says, glancing at Will and then back at me.
“I’m going to make you regret this,” Will whispers low in my ear, and I try to keep a neutral face as he storms off with a petulant walk over to his new wife, who’s still glaring at me.
I refuse to let him dig his way under my skin and make me feel like a scared little girl. But even with my best attempt, a sense of worry fills me.
Will wasn’t physically abusive. There was just one time things got out of hand, and we worked through it. But the fact is, he is capable of hurting me. Just because it was one time doesn’t mean that it couldn’t happen again, especially now that there aren’t romantic feelings between us.
I feel anxious and out of control, and all I want to do is dissociate. I want to forget what happened tonight, but I also don’t want to go home and be left with my thoughts, this loneliness consuming me even further.
I get a to-go box for the rest of my sushi, even though I probably won’t eat the other half in the fear that it’s no longer safe to eat, but not getting the food to-go makes me feel like an asshole.
I pay my check, and when I’m leaving the restaurant, I can feel eyes on me, but I don’t look back.
There’s no way in hell I’m going to let him know that his words bothered me or that I’m scared of him.
Tomorrow, I’ll call my lawyer, Carl, and see what he suggests. A restraining order seems severe, but his words have me on edge.
When I pull out of the parking lot, I don’t have a place in mind. I just know I’m not ready to go home. Why does Will have to ruin everything? I just wanted to enjoy a night out by myself and eat at my favorite place. Why does it feel like I’m constantly the one being punished for his mistakes?
My grip on the steering wheel is tight, as I take deep breaths in and out, trying to figure out how I can calm down after the altercation tonight.
I want someone to hold me, to take care of me and to take this horrible feeling of fear away from me.
I’m not sure if it’s my subconscience or a desperate need for a safe space, but I make a decision, turning left instead of right.
It only takes about ten minutes until I’m parking in Avalon’s garage.
My dress is probably too casual, and I don’t have much makeup on, but I still meet the required dress code. At least I didn’t cry on the car ride over here, I won’t deny that I thought about it. But hasn’t Will stolen enough of my tears already?
I know who I came here for, which is ridiculous. I barely know the man and I consider him a source of comfort?
There’s a good chance Ben isn’t even here tonight, and I’ll have to cross that bridge if that’s the case. It’s not that I’m not open to being with another man, because I am, I think. It’s just that I know how he can switch roles, just like me.
Right now I could absolutely use the relief of having decisions taken away from me. I need him to be the guy that took control and bent me over his desk all those months ago.
Most of all, I need out of my own fucking head. I give myself a once over in the mirror, adding some more chapstick, before I get out of my car and head to the entrance where I swipe my membership card.
I take a deep breath in. The club always seems to smell like a mix of clove and vanilla as I glance around the bar searching for the handsome face that seems to haunt me.
The place is busy tonight, sharp dressed men, and women in short dresses.
It takes a few moments, I’m almost to the point where I believe that he isn’t here, when I finally spot him.
I take a relieving breath, until I notice that he’s smiling and talking to another woman.
Fuck, what’s the protocol at a sex club? Are men first come first serve? Do I even have the balls to walk over there and say something? Would he even want me to?
Sure, the last time we were together he said he was interested in a repeat, but what if he only wants a repeat where I’m topping him? Right now, tonight? I’m not capable of it.
Joining Avalon was supposed to take the stress out of fucking, but right now I feel completely on edge.
Honestly, I feel like crying out of frustration, but I won’t do that.
I’ll just slowly back out of Avalon, get back into my car, stop at a liquor store on the way home, and masturbate all night long.
Truly, that should’ve been plan A instead of coming here. I feel so stupid.
I’m slowly trying to make my escape, when eyes that look more green today meet mine. For whatever reason they don’t seem happy to see me, and that just wrecks my confidence.
God, Kate, there’s no crying in a sex club.