13. Ford
— ? —
Ford
My key missed the lock twice before I got the door open.
The house was dark. I didn’t turn on the lights. My shoulder caught the doorframe as I moved through the foyer, and I stopped in the hallway and leaned against the wall because the floor wasn’t staying where it should.
Madison’s coat wasn’t on the hook. Her shoes weren’t by the door. The air smelled stale, like a room no one had lived in for weeks.
I pushed off the wall and made it to the kitchen. Found the whiskey. Poured it wrong, liquid splashing over the rim onto the counter. I brought the glass to my mouth and drank and stared at the chair where she used to sit every morning.
The glass shattered against the wall before I knew my arm was moving.
“There you are,” a voice said from behind me.
I turned.
Valerie stood in the doorway wearing a silk robe that was barely tied, the fabric slipping off one shoulder to show the lace of something underneath. Her hair was loose, tumbling over bare skin, and she was looking at me like I was something she’d been waiting to unwrap.
“I thought you left,” I said, staring at her.
“I would never leave you, Ford,” she said, already moving toward me, her hips swaying, her bare feet silent on the tile. “I stayed at your mother’s for a few days. Just to give you space. But I couldn’t stay away any longer. Not after everything. Not when you need someone.”
She closed the distance before I could respond, stepping over the broken glass without looking down, her eyes locked on mine.
Her hands landed on my chest and slid upward, fingers curling over my shoulders.
“You’re so tense,” she said, pressing her body against mine. “Let me help you relax.”
“Get off me,” I said, grabbing her wrists.
She didn’t pull back. She leaned in closer, her mouth near my ear.
“You don’t mean that,” she whispered, her breath hot on my skin. “You’ve been alone for so long. Let me take care of you.”
I shoved her wrists down and stepped sideways, putting the island between us.
“I said get off,” I said, my voice harder now.
She smiled like I’d said something charming.
“You’re angry,” she said, circling the island slowly, her fingers trailing along the marble. “That’s okay. You’re allowed to be angry. She hurt you. But I’m not going to hurt you, Ford. I’m going to make you feel good.”
She came around the corner and reached for me again. Her hands found my belt before I could stop her.
“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, catching her wrists and yanking them away.
“What I’ve wanted to do for months,” she said, trying to press closer even as I held her back. “What you’ve wanted too. I’ve seen the way you look at me. The way you let me touch you at parties. You wanted this, Ford. You just couldn’t admit it while she was still here.”
“I never wanted this,” I said, pushing her back hard enough that she stumbled.
She caught herself on the counter, and for a second something flickered across her face. Then she smiled again and came at me from a different angle, slower this time, her robe slipping further off her shoulder.
“Don’t fight it,” she said, her voice dropping into something low and honeyed. “She’s gone. The divorce is final. There’s nothing stopping us now.”
She reached for my face. I caught her hand before it made contact.
“Stop touching me,” I said.
Her free hand grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me closer, her body arching against mine. For one frozen second I didn’t move, too shocked to react.
Then the rage hit just as she was about to close the distance.
I grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back so hard she hit the island. Her hip connected with the marble edge and she gasped, more from surprise than pain.
“What is wrong with you?” I asked, my voice coming out loud, echoing off the walls. “I told you to stop. That means stop.”
“Ford, I was just trying to…” she started.
“Trying to what?” I asked, cutting her off. “Force yourself on me? Climb on top of me five minutes after my divorce is finalized? What exactly did you think was going to happen here?”
“I thought you’d finally let yourself have what you want,” she said, straightening up, adjusting her robe but not tying it any tighter. “I thought without her poisoning everything, you’d finally see what’s been right in front of you.”
“The only thing I see is a woman who won’t take no for an answer,” I said.
She moved toward me again. I held up my hand.
“Stay where you are,” I said.
“You’re being dramatic,” she said, but she stopped. “I’m not attacking you. I’m offering you comfort. A woman who actually wants to be with you instead of counting down the days until she can leave.”
“Madison didn’t count down anything,” I said. “She waited for years hoping I’d wake up. I was the one who failed her.”
“She brainwashed you,” Valerie said, shaking her head. “She spent a decade making you feel guilty for being successful, for having responsibilities, for being the man you are. And now she’s gone and you’re still carrying her voice around in your head, telling you that you’re not enough.”
“That’s not what happened,” I said.
“That’s exactly what happened,” she said, taking a step closer. “But I can help you forget her. I can remind you what it feels like to be wanted.”
She reached for the tie on her robe and pulled it loose. The silk fell open, revealing black lace underneath, the curves of her body on full display.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” she said, moving toward me again. “Look at me and tell me you feel nothing.”
I looked at her. At the body she was offering, the invitation written in every line of her. And I felt nothing except a cold, sick fury building in my chest.
“Put your clothes back together,” I said.
“Ford,” she said, still coming closer.
“I said put your clothes back together,” I said, louder now, stepping back until my spine hit the counter. “And then get the hell out of my house.”
She stopped. Her hands paused on the edges of her robe.
“You can’t be serious,” she said.
“I have never been more serious about anything in my life,” I said.
“I don’t want you, Valerie. I have never wanted you.
And every time you touched me over the past few months, every time you pressed yourself against me at parties or found excuses to put your hands on me, I should have told you to stop.
That’s my fault. But I’m telling you now. Stop. Get out. Don’t come back.”
“You’re making a mistake,” she said, finally pulling her robe closed, her face hardening.
“The only mistake I made was letting you stay in the first place,” I said. “The only mistake I made was calling my wife jealous when she tried to tell me what you were doing. She saw you clearly from the beginning. I was the one who was blind.”
“She turned you against me,” Valerie said.
“She didn’t turn me against anyone,” I said. “She asked me to protect our marriage and I didn’t. That’s on me. But you, standing in my kitchen right now, trying to seduce me hours after my divorce went through? That’s on you. And it’s done.”
“Your mother won’t be happy about this,” she said, her voice turning sharp.
“I don’t give a damn what my mother thinks,” I said. “Pack your things and get out. Right now. I want you gone before I come back downstairs.”
“Where am I supposed to go?” she asked.
“Anywhere that isn’t here,” I said. “Call a hotel. Call my mother. Call whoever you want. But you’re not spending another night under my roof.”
She stared at me for a long moment. Her face cycled through expressions I’d never seen on her before.
“You’ll regret this,” she said.
“I already regret more than you can possibly imagine,” I said. “But kicking you out? That I won’t regret.”
I walked out of the kitchen before she could respond.
Made it to the study and closed the door, stood in the dark, breathing hard, my whole body shaking with something that wasn’t the whiskey.
I could still feel her hands on me. The way she’d kept coming even after I told her to stop.
Madison had seen it. She had tried to tell me for months that something was wrong, that Valerie was too close. And I had looked at my wife like she was crazy and told her not to become a jealous woman.
I sank into the chair behind my desk and put my head in my hands.
I thought about calling her. Picking up the phone right now and telling her that I understood finally, that I saw what I’d done, that I would spend the rest of my life trying to make it right if she would just give me one more chance.
But it was past midnight, and she wasn’t my wife anymore, and I had no right to ask her for anything.
No one had stolen my marriage from me. I had walked away and been surprised when it wasn’t there anymore.
And if I ever wanted her back, I would have to become someone I had never once bothered to be.