Maria Undone

Chapter 17

Maria - 26 Years Old

FROM THE PRIVATE NOTES OF DR. ANNA MORRIS

I surveyed myself in the mirror, running my hands up my flat stomach to cup my generous breasts. The girls always looked good with or without a bra, but they looked spectacular right now. The bra I wore wasn't made to cup and comfort. With its lacey cups that were cut out to showcase my pointed berry-red nipples, its primary purpose was to seduce. To bring men to their knees. It was pure lustful sexiness that even a celibate priest wouldn't be able to resist.

My pussy tingled as I imagined Simon on his knees in front of me. His mouth kissing my stomach as he stared at me with unbridled passion. Desire. Want. Need. Love.

I turned around and stared at my high, firm ass. The panties were also for show and designed to either be ripped off or fucked on. It was crotchless, of course, but it also split up the ass, so my crack and half my cheeks were on full display. Easy access. Simon loved my ass. Spanking it, eating it, and fucking it. My man knew how to keep me satisfied. And I knew I did it for him, too. Why else would he be coming to see me so often lately?

I knew I was a looker. I didn't go through life with blinders on about what I looked like to men. And not to toot my own horn, but I was a fucking wildcat in bed. Years of fucking, I picked up something from each partner and curated my performance to match their needs. Their kinks. Even if it wasn't to my taste or comfort level, but a girl had to do what she had to do to keep her man satisfied.

And right now, I only cared about satisfying one man. Finally, after years of casual fucking—casual on his part—I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Excitement floated in my belly at seeing him soon. He was going to come in his pants when he saw me. Unless he wanted to eat first, of course. I had roast chicken cooking in the oven. It was one of those pre-stuffed ones you just chucked in and forgot about until the oven timer went off. I had garlic bread ready to pop in later, and a pre-packaged salad took care of the health side of things. I wasn't a cook, but I always made an effort with Simon. Sure, he barely touched what I made. Sometimes, he took off before dinner was even ready. But tonight, I had him all to myself. All night.

I grabbed my phone to check the time. Six-thirty. There were no new messages from him since he last contacted me.

Simon: You free tonight?

Maria: Hi :) Yes! You coming over?

I winced. My response was a bit too eager and quick. I should've played it a bit cooler.

Simon: Yeah, got no plans tonight so thought I'd swing by at 6 if that's cool?

Maria: Of course :) I'll make us something. Anything in particular you wanna eat?

Simon: No, I'm good.

No, he was good for food, or no, he was good for food preference? I wasn't sure, but I had immediately rushed to the grocery shop anyway.

Maria: Can't wait to see you 3

Simon: Yep!

He wasn't very talkative by text anyway. Or in person.

I wondered where he was. I would call him, but I didn't want to distract him if he was driving.

The smell of the sage and onion-stuffed chicken was strong, so I scurried to the kitchen to check. Then I remembered that I wouldn't know what to check for anyway, so as long as it didn't look burned, I decided to leave it until the timer went off.

I straightened when a sound caught my ear. It sounded like a male's voice coming from out in the hallway. A familiar male voice.

Simon.

Who was he talking to?

I creaked my door open slightly and poked my head out. I might be proud of my body, but that didn't mean I wanted my neighbors to get an eye full.

Sure enough, Simon was out in the hall chatting with my neighbor, Sofia. Standing a little too close to her, it appeared. Maybe blocking her from moving forward? Simon was Barron's cousin, and Barron was back in a relationship with Eden, who was Sofia's best friend. I didn't know he knew Sofia like that, though. Certainly not in the way I was witnessing. I couldn't see Sofia's face as Simon was blocking it, but I could hear low, stern words coming from her.

"...such an arrogant ass..."

I made a move to interrupt, to chastise her for being a bitch to my man. But then Simon spoke.

"I don't know why you won't admit you want me."

My footsteps faltered, and my stomach clenched in shock.

Sofia gave a loud sigh as she moved to shove past him. Instead, he stepped in front of her.

"Move."

That I heard clearly. I would've intervened. I wasn't completely heartless in leaving a woman vulnerable to a man's advances.

Except I heard the inflection in Sofia's voice. The half-hearted tone that a woman of the world, like myself, knew how to use against a man I was attracted to but enjoyed playing a practiced game of cat and mouse with. There was no real venom or panic in her voice.

My stomach plunged further when Simon lifted his hand to briefly stroke down her cheek before he straightened away. "You're so beautiful."

I bit my lip to keep from wobbling and slowly retreated to my apartment. I softly closed the door and leaned my forehead against it.

Simon's tone was gentle. Revered. He'd never spoken to me that way before. He'd never called me beautiful, either. In fact, all his endearments were reserved for bed.

"Fuck, your ass is incredible."

"Fuck, your pussy's so tight."

"Fuck, you have the best tits."

A knock on my door had me jumping back.

Simon.

He finally managed to pull away from beautiful Sofia for a piece of ass, I thought bitterly.

Another knock sounded, and I wanted to tell him to fuck off.

But then he might ghost me again, like the last time he chastised me for being too clingy and saying he needed his space. That silent period had me tearing my hair out. I did everything I could to entice him back to me. And it worked.

Until the next time.

So I swiped my finger under my eye, steeled my shoulders back, and placed what I hoped was a sultry smile back on my face. I put my hand on the doorknob and took a shaky breath.

Showtime.

"Did you love Simon?"

Wow. Straight to the point. But then again, that's what I liked about Dr. Anna. She was a straight shooter. Yes, she asked the clichéd "and how did that make you feel" questions, but she was also intuitive to my underlying issues and adapted to meet my mood. If she knew I was being evasive, she'd change the subject to focus on another facet of my trauma before circling back to draw out the original line of questioning that I'd danced around. I learned quickly that there was no point in not being completely vulnerable and open in therapy. Dr. Anna could smell bullshit a mile away, and all roads led back to Rome. Plus, at one hundred and eighty-five a session, I couldn't afford not to lay my cards on the table. I was here to improve myself, after all.

I twisted my mouth as I thought of an answer. The truth was, as soon as things with Simon ended—once he fucked my now ex-best friend—I’d shoved him to the dark corners of my mind. I didn't dare examine my faltering feelings for him because, by the time the end was near, I was fucking fatigued. I was so damn tired of chasing after him and trying to figure out what his one-worded texts meant. Sick of dropping hints about where our non-relationship was going. I was sick of putting out when I wasn't in the mood because I thought the payoff afterward would be worth it. It never was.

"A part of me did," I slowly replied. "I mean, I'd been with him on and off since I was seventeen."

Sexually, of course. Not in a committed relationship. We spent a summer together fucking frantically as horny teens tended to do. Then he went off to college, and that was that; until years later when he moved back to Helensville and started showing up around town sporadically when he visited his family. Eventually, we restarted our sexual liaison, and I fell headlong into an unhealthy attachment to him. I thought for sure I'd be sporting a ring in the not-too-distant future.

Dr. Anna observed the myriad of emotions that played out on my face. Sadness. Hurt. Embarrassment.

"Tell me what you're thinking," she encouraged.

I blew my breath out. "Resentment. Anger."

"About?"

I rolled my lips in and contemplated how to answer her question without sounding like a bitter bitch. Because I definitely was one when it came to Simon and Sofia.

"In less than a year, Sofia managed to achieve what I had failed to do since I was seventeen. And she hated him." I shook my head as I attempted to get a hold of my simmering emotions. "I keep wondering what I did wrong. Was I too clingy? Too slutty? Too bitchy? No," I shook my head, "that can't be right because Sofia was a massive bitch to Simon, and yet he couldn't keep away. I've done the play-hard-to-get card and the eager-to- please card, yet I'm still overlooked. I'm treated like trash, just like my –" I stopped myself and took a deep breath as I rolled my words back in. I could feel the tempestuous flush on my face, so I sank back onto the couch, folding my arms protectively.

I waited for Dr. Anna's inevitable probing questions regarding my impassioned speech, but instead, she leaned forward to refill my water glass.

"Your childhood was filled with uncertainty and upheaval. Instead of having a nurturing caregiver who reassured you with their constant and loving presence in your life, you were left abandoned and neglected."

I murmured my thanks before taking a sip of water. This was all stuff I knew. Thanks, Mom.

"Your fear of abandonment is inflated in your romantic relationships," she continued. "I can't comment on the personality of the men you pick, but they are men who are perhaps not emotionally available to you."

Yeah, like a guilt-ridden widower.

"You feel like you're giving so much of yourself without getting anything back because the relationship is not genuine in its conception."

I frowned. "What do you mean?"

She tapped her pad and gave me a small smile. "They may not be available emotionally, but, Maria, neither are you. You've sacrificed your own needs and boundaries due to your deep-seated fear of abandonment.”

"Great. So because my mom was a crazy bitch, she fucked me up so bad that it's crept into my romantic relationships."

Dr. Anna pursed her lips. "I can't comment on an individual's mental health without a proper medical evaluation. And we also tend not to use that language when we do offer a diagnosis."

I refrained from rolling my eyes. Another thing about Dr. Anna: she was a stickler for the rules. I couldn't use flippant language around her without it being taken literally. She'd then gently chastise me using her Colombia University jargon.

"That being said," she added, "I also cannot comment on the mental state of your male suitors." I wanted to snort at her terminology. Male suitors certainly sounded better than male fuck buddies.

"They may also have their own emotional growth that hindered them from establishing a more stable relationship with you. But we aren't here to focus on their behavior. I understand that having a stable relationship with someone who reassures you and makes you feel safe and secure is important to you. But consider what may happen if you enter into a relationship right now with someone. What would happen if your partner requires some space? If their personality requires them to be alone or if they have an independence that differs from yours?"

I would probably be tearing my hair out, coming up with various scenarios.

He's cheating on me.

I'm annoying him.

He's bored of me.

I'm not pleasing him in bed.

I then thought of my brief relationship with Brian. I rarely texted him, rarely called him. I didn't immediately rush to my phone to message him back. But that wasn't because I didn't desire to. I had to force myself from appearing clingy and needy. I held back because I was trying to curb behavior I thought drove men away.

Putting aside his emotional immaturity—I wasn't a doctor, but I felt comfortable diagnosing him with that—if Brian had decided to enter into a serious relationship with me, would my old habits of needing to feel needed creep back in? Would Brian have gotten sick of my issues and eventually left me? Or would he have accepted me, flaws and all, and worked at reassuring me and understanding that I was a work in process?

One thing was for sure: I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship.

You would think that revelation would put a damper on my mood, but to the contrary, I went into the weekend with a spring in my step. Usually, after a therapy session, I was left feeling zapped. Not only emotionally and mentally but physically. Who knew talking could be so taxing?

But this was the first session where I felt invigorated. I was glad I decided to be transparent with Dr. Anna regarding my childhood. I truly thought my issues with my mother didn't affect my adult life, especially since I'd put that woman to the back of my mind once she took off. But talking through my stuff with Dr. Anna, it all made sense on how it was all connected.

So, instead of being holed up at home with a wine and a book, I accepted a night out with the girls. Yes, I had girls now.

I was a little nervous about going to The Homestead, the venue Rachel picked for our night out. I hadn't been back there since the night Lissa was banned. Solidarity and all that.

But after we fell out, I still stayed away for fear of running into Simon and Sofia. However, after my therapy session, where some ground was broken over my journey with Simon, I felt strong in myself that even if I did bump into them, it wouldn't be too terrible.

The Homestead was just as fun as I'd remembered, and I kicked myself for staying away so long. We ordered fish tacos to share with a side of salad and fries. The menu was delicious—no overly potent and watery margaritas here—and their live band every Saturday night was in top form. The spot was popular with locals, tourists, and day visitors. After all, the owner was married to a famous supermodel; one who visited often. The Homestead really was its own tourist attraction.

"We have a new mission," Rachel informed me between mouthfuls of fries.

I quirked my brow. "What was your first mission?"

She rolled her eyes. "Okay, we have a mission."

"And what's that?" I took a big bite of my taco.

"To get you a new man."

I shook my head. "No." Absolutely not. "I'm not interested in dating right now."

"Aww, c'mon," Toni whined. "Brian was an ass...I think because you've told us literally nothing about why you stopped seeing him." She paused for effect, waiting for me to fill the silence.

When I refused the bait, she sighed. "So let's dust ourselves off and try again. Oooh! You know, I swiped on this guy, but we had no chemistry. He'd be perfect for you."

"Oh, yay," I drawled in a monotone voice. "Please set me up with someone you deemed too boring for you."

She laughed and slapped my arm. "He's really nice. Hot, educated, and a science teacher out in Helensville. We just didn't mesh well. Our vibe was all off."

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm honestly not interested, and," I raised my voice when Rachel opened her mouth for a rebuttal, "I don't mean I'm not interested, but wink-wink I am. I mean, I'm not interested."

Toni sighed dramatically before picking her drink up. "Okay, fine," she mumbled into her glass. "Just consider it for –"

Her eyes widened before she placed her glass down. "Incoming," she murmured out the corner of her mouth.

Since my back was to everyone, I had no idea who she was referring to. Visions of Brian or Simon and Sofia fluttered through my mind. I braced myself.

"What are you losers doing here?"

Fuck. It was worse.

Lissa.

I craned my head to look at her. Her long blonde hair was down, and she wore a tight crop top and jeans. I had no idea why she was shooting daggers at me when she was the one who fucked our friendship up.

"Aren't you supposed to be banned from here?"

Her face flushed red as she flicked her hair back. "Not anymore."

I snorted. I'd seen how overprotective Barron was around Eden. He was like a rabid dog over anything that may disturb her peace, determined not to let a hair on her head be ruffled.

"I seriously doubt that."

She rolled her eyes and sipped her drink. "He's never here anyway. He's too busy holding Eden's handbag while she works."

I knew Lissa like the back of my hand. I could read her moods. I knew when she was pissed, happy, vindictive, and bitchy. And right now? She was jealous as fuck. Bitter, even.

Lissa had briefly succeeded in pulling Barron away from Eden when they were teens, but she hadn't succeeded in keeping him. I remembered the quiet pinch of anger on her face whenever she caught Barron staring longingly at Eden across the hall or in the cafeteria at school. I constantly advised her to forget about him because, honestly, it was kind of embarrassing having to watch Lissa chase after Barron so hard while he was making hurt-hearted eyes at his ex.

Lissa was livid when Barron and Eden got back together a couple of years ago. To the point where I actively avoided her so I wouldn't have to fake my way through another vitriol about Eden fucking Jamison.

Barron and Eden were inseparable—New Haven's golden couple. Lissa had done everything she could to cause trouble between them, to no avail. All that happened was a permanent ban on The Homestead's premises and the shame of knowing that the town pitied her—or reveled in her misfortune. After all, she’d burned a lot of bridges.

"Ian's here," I reminded her. He was Homestead's take no bullshit manager. He would have no issues tossing her out on her ass.

Lissa shrugged carelessly as she sat on an empty seat at our table. Charli made a face like she got a whiff of a bad smell.

"What Ian doesn't know can't hurt him. But don't you think it's weird that Barron's still keeping that policy? Of banning me? Like, why are you so obsessed with me?" She held out her arms and gave a high-pitched giggle.

Wow. Destination: Delulu Land. Ticket for one, please.

I could be a bitch and signal Ian over, but I didn't want to waste any more energy on Lissa. What she did or where she went was no longer my concern. Thank God.

Lissa surveyed our faces, taking note of everyone's stony expressions. She rolled her eyes. "Uh, oh. Has Saint Maria been crying into her tissues to all of you? Y'all need to get a grip."

That did it.

I slammed my drink down. "Lissa, we're all here to have a nice night out, and you're ruining our buzz. Now, I don't want to be that bitch, but I will call Ian over, and I'll gladly watch him escort you out."

The girls stared at me, dumbfounded but with a hint of enjoyment. I knew we weren't in high school anymore, and most adults didn't feel comfortable being overtly rude to people if they deserved it. I wasn't one of those people. If you were a dick to me, I felt comfortable calling you out on it.

Lissa's mouth tightened, and an angry flush slashed her cheekbones. She huffed out a breath, but then her eyes shifted to something behind me before widening with surprised delight. Her red-painted mouth lifted in a cat-that-got-the-cream smile before she abruptly stood. She downed her drink and slammed it on our table before smoothing her hair.

"Love to stay and chat, ladies," she purred. "But better company has come up. Tootles."

She sauntered off, and I instinctively turned my head to watch her leave. Amusement danced in me, as well as a sliver of pity for the poor soul she was going to force herself upon. She made a beeline toward a group of men, approaching one from behind. She stroked his shoulder as he looked up at her in welcome surprise.

The smile froze on my face.

"Is that...?" I heard Rachel's harsh whisper.

Brian.

My stomach plummeted as Lissa bent down to give him a lingering, familiar hug. His arms came around Lissa's svelte frame, returning her embrace, his hand gripping low on her back.

I immediately swiveled back in my seat, unable to watch any more of their display. I snatched up my drink and swiftly downed the contents before I met everyone's stares as I gently placed my glass back down. As predicted, I spied the pitying and angry emotions blazing across their faces.

Feeling far from perky, I shrugged carelessly. "Guys, it's fine. Brian and I barely went on three dates. He's not the love of my life or anything, so you can quit the woe-is-me looks."

I gave them a smug smile, hoping to lessen the harshness of my words. But seriously, they looked at me like I should storm off to the bathroom for a good cry. Which I definitely did not feel like doing. Nope. Not at all.

"Besides," I continued. "She's his problem now, and that's the kind of karma I could never wish on anyone."

They all laughed, relaxing at my apparent indifference to Brian and Lissa—whom I'm guessing was his new purely sexual partner. Once again I was thankful I hadn't gone all the way with Brian. Double dipping with Lissa? Been there, done that.

I pushed the sickness in my stomach aside as I waved my empty glass at them. "Now, whose turn is it next to buy rounds?"