Chapter 21
Sweat dewed around my headband. I teeped the punching bag for one last set.
Roundhouse kick, jab, cross, elbow, jab, uppercut, sidekick, jab, hook, spinning crescent kick.
Done. I tapped the bag on its rebound and caught it.
Shoulders heaving and sucking in deep breaths, my forehead relaxed against the cool leather, but my internal inferno kept cooking.
The short workout hadn’t helped. I didn’t feel any better.
I ripped my gloves open and off with a drawn-out groan and tossed them aside. I couldn’t stay in this small room anymore. The mats, weights, and cardio machines just amped up my nerves. I needed to cool down.
Mirrors lined the back wall. I let my long hair down my back and teased it loose.
It tickled the bottom of my sports bra. Usually, I took pride in admiring the toned lines of my body after a workout.
Not today. There was no firmness to my shoulders.
No self-respect in the twist of my jaw. With no makeup on and circles under my eyes, I looked like a hot mess.
All because of him, the heartless, stubborn mule.
Last night, back at his place, I thought I had him.
His fingers had gently sifted through my hair.
His soft touch, down my temple to my cheek and back again, had left tingles behind that I still felt even now.
In those moments, I’d been his focus, and it had warmed me from head to toe.
I’d felt special and cared for by someone, and I thought we’d made a connection.
Except I woke up alone. No note. No warning. Just a text message from him, wondering if I had already kicked myself out of his apartment. That was definitely one way to put a damper on my femme fatale act and add another broken fantasy to a long list of them.
It was the kick in the gut I needed to remind myself there was no happily ever after at the end of this road. His usefulness lay only in the orgasms he delivered and his signature on the divorce papers before I put him in my rearview forever.
“That you, babe?” Maeve called from the kitchen as I crossed the living room, headed for the patio. “I put some coffee to brew. Want some?”
“Yes, please, absolutely. You’re my savior. Any of those lemon tarts I made left?”
“Just ate the last one.”
I groaned. “You are killing me. I’ll be outside.”
Beneath a black cherry tree shading the garden table and chairs, Maeve’s yard disconnected us from city life.
Sounds of traffic lingered in the background, but her red brick walls bracketed a garden with dozens of different flowers on one side and vegetables on the other.
Birds frequently sang their bliss, and with the variety of smells and colors, this place carved a little slice of heaven in a bustling city.
The first signs of fall-colored leaves rustled overhead with the wind.
It swept some away and twirled them in the air so their bitter almond scent danced among the flower perfumes.
I collapsed in a chair gracelessly.
Everything was going to be fine. Nothing worked overnight, same for starting a business or learning a language. I just overestimated myself a little. It happened to the best of us, but giving up wasn’t something I did. Ever.
If I wanted my freedom, I had to work for it. If I wanted him to understand my loneliness and abandonment, I had to make him want what he couldn’t have. It was all up to the effort I was willing to put in.
Phone in hand, I reread for the tenth time my earlier reply to his not-so-subtle hint I needed to leave his apartment.
Alizé
Is this you telling me you miss me already?
I groaned. It sounded desperate. His lack of reply only made it worse because an hour ago, in true Alizé-style, I tried forcing the issue.
See you tonight then?
Don’t answer, and I’ll take it as a yes.
I stared at the screen. Still no reply.
I set my phone face down and tilted my head up to the breeze. A dash of gasoline, a touch of seaweed, and underlining notes of pine and citrus mingled with the perfumes of Maeve’s flowers. The breeze nipped at my cooling skin, and I slipped on my wool wrap coat.
My phone buzzed through the entire metal frame of the glass table, and I scrambled upright.
HD
You’re assuming I’m available.
I smirked. So maybe not all was lost.
No, I’m demanding you be.
Can’t.
Playing hard to get? I thought that was my job.
This has run its course. You were a good fuck. Now I’m bored.
I scoffed. Good thing I wasn’t in this for his charm.
Oh mon chéri, that’s not for you to decide.
Try me.
We’ll see.
I could just imagine the downward crease of his eyebrows and the frustrated twist of his mouth as he read the words.
“What’s with that smirk?” Maeve set a cup of steaming coffee in front of me and sat beside me, a mug of black tea in hand.
“Husband dearest. He’s still resisting. It’s endearing.”
I took the first few sips of the watered-down black coffee.
It wasn’t as hardy as the double espressos I preferred, but it beat the exhaustion.
I definitely hadn’t expected Cillian and me to keep at it until almost sunrise.
One thing I had to give him, the guy had the stamina of a twenty-year-old and really knew his way around a woman’s body.
“If you say so. Don’t know how you do it. I’d have given him a few good kicks in the balls if I were in your shoes.”
I shrugged. “This is more fun.”
“Then why don’t you seem all that happy about it?”
“That obvious?”
“You didn’t even say ‘hi’ when you got home. You went straight to the gym, and now you’re out here on your own and smelly. Showers are a thing, you know.”
I shoved her lightly.
“Don’t tease me. I really thought I snared him last night. He had this look in his eyes, and it was…intimate.”
“Sex kind of always is.”
“The other sort of intimate. Sweet. Meaningful.”
“But…?”
“But it seems like that might have been my wishful thinking. I’ll need to put even more effort into this.”
“Just be careful not to fall for him.”
“He’d have to be even slightly romantic for that. Trust me, there’s no chance.”
“I hope for your sake.”
She tossed her permed strawberry-blonde hair over her shoulder and crossed her bare knees, exposed above her leg warmers.
“You know you deserve so much better, right?” Her half-empty mug of tea clapped against the glass table. The murky brown water rippled.
“You’re allowed to think the same for yourself too.”
“What do you mean?”
“Erel and you. If you’re not happy—”
“Why wouldn’t I be happy? For once my boyfriend’s here for an extended period of time. I’m getting sex on the regular. Damn good sex. There’s nothing disappointing about that.”
“But what happens when he goes home? How long are you willing to live apart?”
“We don’t all have to have the same ideals about love as you do.
You want the knight in shining armor who’ll follow and cherish you for the rest of your life.
I just want someone who understands and accepts me.
I don’t need the to-have-and-to-hold bullshit.
Just a man who doesn’t get in my way, and I don’t get in his.
When our lives intersect, it’s great. But I don’t want to regret my life because I followed him, and I don’t want him to resent me because he followed me. This way works.”
“That’s enough for you?”
“Just because you weren’t the apple of your parents’ eyes doesn’t mean we’re all starved for affection.”
“Ouch, that one hurt.”
Maeve sighed and cradled my hand. “Look, babe, what I mean is love isn’t the fairy tale you’ve sold yourself on.
It’s messy, hard work, and full of compromises.
It’s all about balancing those concessions without losing yourself and what you want.
What Erel and I have works for us, for now.
If he really wanted to move here, that’d be a different story.
Marriage, babies, maybe I’d agree to the whole shebang, but he doesn’t. ”
“And if one day he decides he doesn’t want this sort of relationship anymore?”
“Then I’ll have to let him go.”
“Just like that?”
She gazed down into her mug. “I’d rather not, but I won’t keep him tied to me if he’s unhappy.”
I sipped the rest of my coffee, not really sure if I should comfort her or be brutally honest. No matter how adorable they were together, I couldn’t see their story lasting with this kind of mentality.
Then again, what did I know? I’d been married for seven years without a gram of affection.
Before that, my boyfriends had been more interested in my looks and wealth than in getting to know me.
Heavy footsteps broke the tension.
“This looks tense. Are you well, mon ange?”
I cringed at hearing Erel’s heavy accent in English. He wasn’t one of those men who sounded sexy in another language. French suited him much better.
“We’re fine,” Maeve said as he bent to kiss her. “Just sharing relationship advice.”
“Ah, yes, something Alizé has much to contribute on.”
I stuck my tongue out at him. “Here to break the vibe, I see.”
“Only to tell you O’Leary hasn’t fallen for your tricks.”
“Thank you, I was very much aware.”
He sat opposite us with an exaggerated huff. “You have a tail, by the way, parked outside. Two men, one car. It does not seem like they shall be leaving anytime soon.”
“It could be protection.”
He stared at me deadpan.
“What?” I rolled my palms up. “It could be true. My charm is irrefutable.”
“Bien s?r.” Right.
“They better not be blocking the street,” Maeve groused.
“Professionals, mon ange. See but not seen, they prefer that.”
“You saw them.”
He gently tapped her nose. “I see everything.”
I rolled my eyes and reached for the box of throwing knives on the built-in shelf beneath the tabletop.
“Anyone up for a game?”
“Not me.” Maeve lifted her hands in surrender. “I got my dose of embarrassment last time, thank you very much. I’m more of a jab kind of girl, anyhow. But I’ve got five bucks that my pookie bear will kick your ass.”