I hang up before she can respond.
The frustration settles in fully now. There’s no point pretending I can work like this. I shut down my computer, clear my desk, grab my things, and leave the office.
The door slamming behind me harder than necessary.
The following section includes a brief instance of mild on-page cheating. It is part of the story’s journey, but this moment may be difficult for some readers. Please feel free to skip it if it feels overwhelming.
Maya opens the door with a bright smile, barely giving me a chance to knock.
"You're early," she says, her voice light with a satisfaction she doesn't bother to hide.
I walk past her without a word. I drop my wallet, keys, and phone onto the coffee table, followed by a strip of condoms. They hit the surface with a clinical thud. I’m already unbuttoning my shirt, my focus narrowed down to a single, precise point of intent.
"Take off the dress," I tell her.
She obeys, pulling it over her head with slow, deliberate movements. She isn’t wearing a bra. Her full breasts sway as she moves, leaving her standing in nothing but a scrap of lace panties.
I let my gaze linger, dragging over her curves, assessing the skin I’m about to claim.
"Lose the rest. Sit down. Play with yourself."
Her breath catches, a ragged hitch of air, but she does exactly what she’s told. She spreads herself open, showing me how slick she already is, her fingers working to make herself even more ready for me. She begins to moan, a soft, needy sound that should make my blood roar.
It does, in a way. I can feel the familiar pull, my cock getting hard in an instant, but it’s not enough to drown out the noise in my head. Even as she offers herself to me, my focus is fractured. My eyes keep sliding back to the phone on the coffee table, waiting for a glow that hasn't come.
I should be lost in her. I should be present in the way her body arches for me, in the desperate, beautiful way she’s tryingto bridge the distance I’ve put between us. But the silence from that device is louder than her moans.
No missed calls. No texts. Nothing from Ceci.
I grind my teeth, the muscle in my jaw tamping down a sharp spike of irritation. Maya moans louder, the sound finally cutting through the static in my head and dragging my attention back to the room. I rip open a condom with a tight sense of urgency, roll it on, and cross the space between us in two strides.
My hand clamps around the back of her neck, tilting her head back to expose the line of her throat as I kiss her deeply, forcefully—smothering her sound with my own.
"Bend over the couch," I command, my voice a low, rough rasp.
She moves instantly. I push into her, hard and fast, driving myself into her heat with a desperate, silent need for oblivion. I want the friction to burn away the guilt, the brutal force of my need to drown out the doubt. I just want to be anywhere but inside my own head.
I check my phone the second I step out of the shower. Nothing. No new texts, no missed calls. The silence is starting to grate on me.
I start getting dressed in the clean gym gear from the duffel bag I keep in my trunk. Maya went down to the car to retrieve it for me while I finished up in the bathroom.
I’m pulling on a T-shirt when she appears in the bedroom doorway. She’s changed into a loose, airy dress, the kind that moves with her body, flowing with every step. I don’t need to ask to know there’s nothing underneath it.
"I’m starving," she says. "I’m going to make something. Stay and eat with me?"
I nod. Her joy is instantaneous. She crosses the room to kiss me, her gratitude evident. It’s an invitation she offers every Saturday, and one I always decline. I don't do dinner; I don't complicate the arrangement, and I always have someone to return to. But today, that isn't the case.
Maya practically skips out of the room. I pick up my phone again. Still nothing. I wait another thirty minutes, sitting on the couch in the living room, staring at the blank screen as if I can force it to light up. Ten more minutes of silence pass. I can’t take it anymore.
I step into the hallway, away from the soft music playing in the kitchen where Maya is cooking, and I dial.
When the line finally picks up, I don't lead with a greeting. "Ceci, why haven’t you answered or returned my calls?"
"It’s me, Daddy!" Alicia’s voice explodes with excitement on the other end. "Mommy’s in the shower and asked me to answer."
I close my eyes, the tension in my shoulders finally beginning to drain. "Hi, princess. Are you having fun at the beach?"
“Yes! Mom and Abigail made an awesome picnic basket with all our favorite things. We spent most of the day at the beach,and Ethan, just to annoy me, put me on his shoulders and threw me into the water. I ended up liking it, though.”
