Kathryn. That’s a really pretty name. I was hoping she’d have an evil name like Onyx or Lex. Instead, she sounds like a member of the royal family.
“She loved the smell of my cologne. She never told me. I knew from the way she reacted, so I used to spray it everywhere for her. When she left, I couldn’t stand the smell of it anymore.”
I remember his words from last night so vividly. It’s not often the man you love tells you that you aren’t his first, or his second, but his third love. I find myself reciting the words he said about her, “You loved her for all the wrong reasons.”
His hand stops moving along my hairline. I can’t see his face so I don’t know what he’s thinking. All I know is his pulse elevates just slightly whenever I make a mention of Kathryn. When he resumes playing with my hair, he also resumes talking.
“She’d already given her heart to someone else. She was married.”
This time it is my turn to freeze. He was in love with a married woman? He was the other man in a relationship? Okay, I get it, he’s not perfect. But cheating is a huge deal breaker. I am a very closed-minded person when it comes to the sanctity of marriage. When I eventually make that vow it will be forever.
I sit up on the bed and turn around to look at Alexander. He is exquisite and masculine, everything a woman would fantasize about. I get how a married woman, any woman, would want to be with him. But at what cost?
I feel my face morph into a look of disgust. The skin between my eyes tightens and my mouth turns down.
Alexander leaps off the bed and stands in my small room, his presence taking over most of the space. He runs his hands along the back of his neck and paces slightly beside the bed. “Don’t do it, Emma. Don’t judge me. You asked me to be real. Don’t make me regret it.”
I cough back an exasperated noise. “Sorry if I’m letting you down with my reactions, but this is a lot to take in. Did you know she was married when you fell in love with her?”
“Yes. I didn’t know she was a mother. That part hurt.”
A mother? I look up and his face resonates hurt as if he’s recalling the day he found out. The relationship they shared must have been powerful for her to forsake her family.
He releases his neck and looks down at me on the bed. His hand bangs on his chest in a dramatic gesture. “This is me, Emma. Yes, there were women before you. If I knew you existed I never would have been with any of them. You can’t fault me for having a past. And you certainly can’t fault me for thinking I was in love with someone. If that’s how you are going to react then you might as well leave me right now. Why wait until later?”
His eyes are ablaze, widening with his words. I have never seen him be more serious about something in the five months I’ve known him. He is like Jekyll and Hyde with his emotions. One moment he’s saying he wants everything with me, and the next he’s ready to call it off. His trust issues are deeper than I thought, which makes me realize they’re not trust issues . . . they’re abandonment issues.
“You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re right. I just . . . this is difficult for me. I can’t control your past and it’s hard for me to deal with.”
His body relaxes a bit with my words. We’re both adults yet we have a lot of growing up to do when it comes to relationships.
“I’m a grown man. I have a past. You are going to have to learn how to deal.”
I sit up on my knees and bring myself to his level. “And you’re going to have to learn how to trust I’m not going to leave you just because I don’t like a decision you made before you met me.”
Alexander nods his head and seems to accept my words. I pull him down back onto the bed and lie down with him, resuming our previous position. I had an easy, uncomplicated relationship with Parker for four years, and I’m glad it’s over. Here, I’ve had the most heartrending five months with a man so complex I may never truly break through.
And if it ends, I’ll be devastated.
chapter TWENTY-SIX
The past two weeks have been amazing. Alexander, as I have become accustomed to calling him, has spent every day at my apartment and we settle into a little routine. Since my shower is too small for the two of us, he showers first, and then I hop in. It works for me because I discovered a little secret about Alexander Asher: he sings in the shower. Turns out he’s a Bruno Mars fan. I found that very surprising.
Devon dropped off a small arsenal of suits and loafers. I placed them all in my small closet and wondered how we will make my small space work for the two of us. Alex goes to his fancy job uptown bright and early as I casually make my way into the school around the corner. Around three o’clock he arrives to teach his classes and then leaves at five to head back uptown.
When I get out of school at seven-thirty, he is outside the door waiting to walk me home.
He likes to eat out so we go to fancy dinners that are more than I am used to. I am no stranger to a five-star restaurant but a Michelin-grade private room on a Tuesday night is a lot, even for me.
Last night I asked him if we could go somewhere a little more laid back. When he asked what kinds of things we did back in Cedar Ridge, I said, “Bowling”—thinking he’d laugh at me. Instead, he obliged and as soon as we stepped into Lucky Strike, I knew why it was so easy for him to amend.
Lucky Strike is a bowling alley on crack. No, not crack. High-potency cocaine. The place looks like an exquisite nightclub with mood lighting, a DJ, a bar that rivals most high-end restaurants, and giant screens everywhere. He reserved a private room—yes, a private bowling alley room, just for us. We even had our own waitress. I just shook my head at the largess and vowed to figure out some way to get this guy to be a little more down to earth.
The sweet aspect of the night was that since I can only bowl lefty, he did too. He still beat me but at least it was on an even playing field. When we came back, he made his “famous” spaghetti Bolognese but was not thrilled when I took the leftovers upstairs to Mattie.
We still have a few kinks to work out in this relationship.
Gigantic kinks.
