Chapter Sixteen
I knew what Chris’ wife looked like. As much as I wanted to live under the veil of ignorance, my curiosity got the better of me and I looked her up. It’s pretty easy to find pictures of them together from events or galas and there were even a few from their wedding that I stumbled on because her Instagram is public. It takes all of the restraint I have not to stalk her social media more often, but I’ve looked at a few pictures and scrolled long enough to know that she and Chris rarely spent much time together.
I knew the second he sent that text what he meant and I should have listened, but I was stubborn, and the morbid curiosity over what this visit possibly entailed had me moving towards his office. I stay out of sight when she walks out of the office so there is no chance of her seeing me but I can still see her. Polished, beautiful and put together and exactly what she looked like in her pictures. I know designer clothing and she is decked out in it, making me jealous of her for yet another reason.
I know he asked me to stay away from his office, and I mostly believe that he said it for my sake, but a part of me, albeit a small part, wonders if maybe Chris has fed me a bunch of bullshit. That he doesn’t want me to witness them behaving like a perfect couple. That maybe he’s led her to believe that they are blissfully happy and all those nights he spends with me she believes is really him ‘working late.’ Maybe she’s here to surprise him with lunch and an afternoon delight. Maybe there aren’t even divorce papers. Just words to keep me happy that will in turn keep his dick happy. I only know what Chris tells me, after all.
There are an infinite number of maybes.
I wince as I watch their interaction like a car crash in slow motion that I can’t pull my eyes from. A hand on his arm, a kiss on his cheek. Witnessing another woman’s familiarity with him makes me feel like shit. Although it doesn’t necessarily seem like Chris is too excited to see her, it certainly doesn’t seem like behavior from a woman who was just told her husband wants a divorce.
Once I see that she’s out of sight, I take a few steps from where I’d been watching so that he’ll see me if he looks my way, and after only a few seconds, he meets my gaze. His shoulders deflate almost instantly and I can see the apology all over his face. I tilt my head to the side and he takes a few steps toward me before looking behind him. When he doesn’t see anyone, he holds out his hand and I shake my head before taking a step back. I feel the tears building in my throat. Not just because I saw his wife in the flesh but because it’s a painful reminder of the choices I’ve made that have led to this. That I’ve made a fucking mess of my life and I don’t know how to see my way out of the storm. That ultimately, I chose to be in a relationship with someone who is already in a relationship with someone else and now there is a very good chance I’m about to have my heart broken.
“Please, Marissa.” The two words are quiet but I hear them clearly.
“Not here,” I tell him. This isn’t the place for this conversation. This past weekend was the first time I had really learned anything about his wife, and I assume I will be learning quite a bit more. “Later.”
I feel like he wants to say something but he just nods once before sliding his hands into his pockets. I turn on my heel and move back to my desk without another word.
I don’t know how I make it through the rest of the day. I feel like a bomb is about to go off and I’m not prepared for my entire life to go up in flames. I’m walking towards my car in the garage that evening when I spot his car next to mine. He has his own spot with Wes and the other members of senior leadership so I’m surprised to see it there, but as I get closer, I realize he’s actually in the car. He rolls his window down just as I step between our cars and I hear his voice. “Can you follow me?”
No greeting or term of endearment. No sign that this conversation is going to be pleasant. I feel the guards around my heart that I was slowly letting down to let him in move back up.
Men never leave their wives. We knew this.
After only a few miles of driving, he pulls into a shopping center with a pretty crowded parking lot. I’m just about to get out of the car when I see his door open and then he’s sliding into my passenger side. It had started raining earlier this afternoon and hasn’t stopped. It has actually picked up. The sky is dark and ugly and the air has a chill that can only be brought on by October precipitation.
“Hey, beautiful,” he says and the tenderness in his words makes my heart ache.
“Did you know she was coming?” I ask quietly.
“No.” He’s not looking at me; his gaze is trained out my front window. “She knows about you,” he says in a way that feels like he’s ripping off a Band-Aid.
My heart falls so far into my stomach for a moment I feel like I might be sick and I let out a shaky breath. “Me specifically or just that you’re seeing someone.”
“You. Specifically.” He rubs his jaw and leans his head back against the headrest, letting his eyes shut. Despite this conversation we are having, I wonder if this is the most relaxed he’s been all day. “She won’t give me a divorce without going to counseling.” My eyes widen and I dart my gaze away from him to my window because I am certain if our eyes meet, I’ll burst into tears. “Marissa, look at me, baby.”
“No,” I grit out. And damn him for calling me that AGAIN. “What did you say?”
“Nothing. I wanted to talk to you first.”
I’m still staring out my window, so I know he can’t see the confused look on my face. Like I somehow have a say in a decision between a man and his wife. “About…?”
“What do you think?”
I furrow my brows, anger flaring through me when I turn my gaze to him. “About what? You think we’re going to be together while you and your wife go to counseling to fix your marriage?”
“It’s not going to fix anything.” He shakes his head.
I shoot him a look that isn’t quite a glare, but I hope he can see that I’m annoyed by his flippant response to therapy. “I am sure you’re not the first husband to feel that way.”
“She asked for a year and then she’d give me the divorce.”
“So, a year of what exactly? Playing house?” I’m not trying to be a smartass, but what exactly would they be doing?
“No, I talked to my lawyer and he thinks we can push for a trial separation, but if she pushes for counseling, a judge may side with her on that.”
“So, you just don’t get a say at all in it? Is that what you’re telling me?”
“Marissa…” He sighs. “I cheated on her a lot. I don’t have a prenuptial agreement and I make a lot of money. Unfortunately, her wanting to work things out means I have to play by her rules on some things.” He sighs. “Plus, she said she’d go public about you and me.”
My heart begins to pound in my chest at the thought of being fired from my first job. After only a month. I’d carry that stigma with me for my entire career if anyone ever called Beckham Securities for a reference. “What’s to stop her from doing that now?”
“She won’t if I do what she wants.” He reaches for my hand and despite my flinching, he rubs his thumb over the knuckles. “I want to ask you to quit. Go somewhere else. Anywhere else. I’ll write you a recommendation,” he says.
“So, you want me to give up my job for you. For us.” I shrug.
“I don’t mean it like that. If I could walk away, I would. It’s not as easy for me.”
“I get that. I didn’t ask.” I pull my hand away from his and cross my arms over my chest. “You told me not to worry. That she didn’t care. I already gave up my moral compass to be with you. Now, you’re suggesting I give up my job? I made all these rationalizations so I could still look at myself in the mirror every morning. I already feel like a different person than I did months ago, and I don’t want to risk waking up in another few months and not even recognize myself.” I shake my head. “We have great sex and we make each other laugh and I like who I am around you, whole mistress things aside ,” I whisper because I can feel the tears building, “but you’re married and I think it’s best we just end things now…” My voice is calm despite the fact that my insides are screaming. “Before we go further down this road and it’s even harder to stop.”
“It’s already fucking hard, Marissa.”
My heart thumps painfully and I wince in response. “I know. For me too—but this is so complicated and the only thing that will make things easier for us both is if we walk away.”
He turns in his seat and lets his back rest against the door to stare at me. “How am I supposed to look at you every day and know that I can’t touch you or kiss you?” I turn to look at him and I see the anguish all over his perfect features. “Would it be that easy for you to see me?”
“Nothing about this is easy, Chris, but what do you want me to do? Even if she didn’t know who I was, I don’t know that I could do this for a whole year. We’ve hardly been sneaking around, but if you’re trying to work on your marriage, I can’t imagine you’d be able to spend every night out of the house with me, if any.”
“I wouldn’t ask you to put up with that. I shouldn’t have asked you to put up with as much as you have.” He sighs.
“Being with you is not a tough feat.” I give him a sad smile as I blink away the tears forming in my eyes. “I have been very into you since you bought me that shot of tequila.”
“Will you wait? Until I’m divorced?”
I’ve been waiting for this question. He’s asked it in so many ways before but now this is explicit and attached to a specific timeline. “I think it’s best if you don’t expect me to,” I tell him. In a perfect world, I’d tell him yes and we could spend the entire year shooting longing looks at each other from across the room, send each other secret love notes, and maybe even take a secret trip under the guise of business, but how is that different from what we’re doing now? “You can’t give your marriage a valiant effort if you’re just counting down the days until you can be with me. It’ll drive you crazy.”
“So, that’s a no.”
“What happens if in a year she wants another year or you two decide to reconcile? What if the last few years were just a bump in the road to your happily ever after with her?”
“It—”
“You don’t know that,” I interrupt. “So much can happen in a year. Maybe she decides to go to therapy and changes. You loved her at one point; what happens when you start to see glimpses of that person she used to be that made you fall in love?”
“I…it won’t be the same. It has never been the same,” he murmurs. “I’m not the same.” He offers as his lips form a straight line. Full lips I’ve grown accustomed to feeling against mine. I’ll miss the way they move against mine and the way his stubble scrapes against my cheeks and everywhere else he puts his mouth because he can’t keep his lips off of me. “We could have really been something.” He laughs, but I can hear the pain in it. “It’s crazy to think that in another life where you don’t work for me and I’m not married, I’m probably convincing you at this very moment to move in with me.”
“Chris…” I start, but he shakes his head.
“I get why you feel this way, but it doesn’t mean I like it.”
“I’m not crazy about it either,” I tell him honestly.
“Try not to break too many hearts out there, yeah?” he asks as he opens his door. A part of me thought he’d try to kiss me one final time, but he’s out of my car, letting the rain beat down on him.
“Wait…aren’t you going to kiss me goodbye?” I know I shouldn’t ask but if I’m never going to kiss him again, I’d like the last one to be memorable. He hesitates at first like he’s not sure he wants to before he moves back into my car.
He reaches for my cheek and I ignore the fact that his hand is wet because his mouth is an inch from mine. “For the record, this is not goodbye because this is not the last time I’ll ever kiss you.” He gives me a smile and then he pushes his lips to mine. His tongue darts out and rubs against mine once before he pulls back, not even giving us a chance to sink into it. “That’s all you get for now.” He winks and then he’s out of my car.
I don’t know how I got home. Or how I made it to work the next day or the one after that. In theory, I know I did the right thing, but the way my heart throbs in my chest every time I even hear Chris’ name makes me feel I’ve done all the wrong things. Chris had our one on ones switched to emails for the time being but that wasn’t a permanent solution. When it had only been three days, it felt like I’d been avoiding him for months.It was pretty hard to avoid the CFO of the company that works on the same floor and it felt like I’d been working overtime to do so.It wasn’t until a meeting at the end of the week when Mr. Beckham announced they were ready to send a team to Paris for six months to open the new office that I realized the best way to avoid the CFO for an extended period of time.
By the following week, I was in Europe.