The fancy job, the huge, glamorous house, the unnecessary networking, and a life he feels proud to showcase, which brings no actual sparks of joy to me. Yet here I am, conforming to his desires at the expense of my own happiness. Had he told me this was a dressier dinner, I would have been better prepared, but there’s no need to demean me in the process of getting the last-minute information to me. I’m not a mind reader. As much as that would probably help in situations like these with him.
But in an effort to avoid an argument before dinner, I put the stupid dress on, telling myself that it’s just to keep the peace, and he and I will be having a long-overdue talk when we return home. I can’t continue to be treated like this, and he can’t be oblivious to it any longer. I want to make this work, and the way through whatever rough patch this is, is to have open communication and talk about it all.
Blake sits down on the edge of our bed, eyes glued to his phone as I strip down to my lacy panties and matching bra. Mustering some courage through the sting of his comments, I strut over to him and walk right between his legs, combing my hands through his hair. Angry makeup sex is a thing, right? Maybe we just need to connect, and what better way for two people to connect than physically?
“Bristol, c’mon, now I have to redo it,” he says as he jerks his head to the side away from me.
“So let’s mess it up some more before you do, we can be a little late,” I jest, reaching for his face. My breasts are large and practically spilling out of my bra, right into his face. The man I knew a year ago wouldn’t have wasted a second before touching them, right? It’s been so long, I wonder if my memoryis failing me, or if my mind has fabricated our past to justify the present.
“Look, Bristol, I don’t want to keep our friends waiting. I’ll make time for us when we get back, but I need you to get ready now.” Blake stands and walks to our bathroom to fix his hair, leaving me gutted. Nausea rolls through my stomach, my previous appetite completely gone. Did he seriously just turn me down like that?
An image of Rhys from today flashes through my mind. The way his piercing green eyes slowly and unashamedly perused my body from head to toe before focusing all his attention on my face. I can say with the utmost confidence that I’ve never been looked at like that before.
Like the man was hungry, starved even, and I was his oasis. It almost feels like I imagined the entire interaction, desperate Bristol making things up in her head because she’s desperately craving the affection and love.
Deep down, I know I deserve to be looked at like that. Maybe not every day, because I’m a realist and I know life gets in the way sometimes, but at least when the situation calls for it. I should feel a glimmer of desire from the man I’m committing my life to.
I manage to pull the dress on with shaky hands and change out my shoes to a pair of cream pumps before Blake walks back into our bedroom. My hands nervously knead together in front of me while I wait for his approval.
“Why are you just standing there? Makeup, Bristol. Where is your head tonight?”
My mouth falls open slightly, shocked and fairly dumbfounded that those words just came out of his mouth. “Jesus, you’re in a real mood, Blake. I’ll meet you in the living room,” I say, rushing out the words as I walk past him and into our en suite with a slight stomp.
I pull out the extravagant makeup kit he purchased for me from some designer I can’t pronounce and quickly line my eyes with eyeliner, adding a bit of blush to my fair-skinned cheeks, and opting for a bold red lipstick. It’s not like I can count on him kissing me to mess it all up, anyway.
Grabbing a new purse, I walk into the living room slowly, unsteady on the pumps I’ve only worn once to a wedding. Blake looks up from his phone, looking me over and nodding his head. “Better. At least you don’t smell like wet dogs anymore. Ready?” My head jerks back like I was physically hit. I know my heart should be sinking right now. I know I should feel heartbroken and hurt, but I find myself completely detached for the first time ever.
I’m not a business partner he’s taking out for dinner; I’m his fiancé, I know he should have some type of reaction to me other than irritation and passiveness. But this has been par for the course since he started with this new company. His work and his image are his full focus. It’s hard not to wonder where I fit in all of this.
The rideto dinner was spent the way they usually are, quiet and awkward. Blake works on his phone next to me while I anxiously fidget with my fingers and watch the world pass me bythrough the window.
“Could you try not do that at dinner? It’s distracting, and it makes you look childish, rather than like the future wife of a respectable, successful businessman,” Blake snaps, his eyes looking at my hands in my lap with disgust. I can’t explain why he’s being exceptionally cruel tonight, but I decide to keep the peace.Again.
I smile brightly at him before speaking. “I’ll do my best not to embarrass you, Blake. I didn’t realize the movements of my hands would be so off-putting to everyone around us.” Blake huffs before his face softens slightly.
“Thank you for understanding, darling. It’s important we make sure we’re projecting a certain image. I’m glad you’re starting to get it.” His hand reaches out and brushes along my cheek, and for the first time since I’ve met him, I have the strongest urge to jerk away from his touch.
Dinner was exactlyas I expected. A vomit-inducing, ass-kissing fest with a side of “whose dick is bigger.” These businessmen love to hear themselves talk, and man, they don’t shut up. I’m unsure if they even hear half the bullshit that slips between their lips or if their brains are just completely detached from their tongues.
As the waitress comes back to the table, I toss back the remainder of my red wine and hand her the glass with a smile of gratitude on my face. “Another one, please? And you are more than welcome to keep them coming,” I request.
“She’s just joking. Thank you,” Blake chuckles. So, he is aware that his fiancé has a pulse and is sitting next to him. I wasn’t sure, since he hasn’t said more than ten words to me since we got here.
I cock my head to the side, leveling him with an uncharacteristic glare. “No, no, I wasn’t. I’d like another glass, please. Thank you,” I say, turning to look directly at her. The waitress nods once at me and walks away from our table.
I can feel the stares from Joffrey and Lexi, who are clearly appalled, and I find myself not mad about that fact at all. Quite the opposite, actually. The heat radiating off of Blake is palpable, and when he clears his voice and picks up the conversation withhisfriends as if there hadn’t just been thick tension thrumming between us moments prior, the knowledge starts to settle deep within my bones. Blake doesn’t give two shits about me when it comes to his image.
The waitress soon returns and places my wine in front of me with a wink. I pick it up, the glass cool in my hand, and tip it ever so slightly in silent cheers toward Blake. Taking two rather large gulps, I sigh, letting the warmth from the alcohol consume me, a steady pulse flowing through my veins, controlling my heart rate and steadying my breathing.
Who am I tonight? Kira would be proud.
The conversation continues around me while I sit there by myself and finish off my second glass, staring out the window at the lively street, watching the hustle and bustle of the little city move around me. A couple, hand in hand, stops momentarily, the man pulling the woman into his arms. He looks down at her with such adoration, such desire, that goosebumps break out across my arms.
I feel like I’m intruding on an intimate moment, but I can’t look away. What would it be like to be looked at like that? Before I realize it, my mind travels to Rhys.
The way my body heated from head to toe when he looked at me, the way my heart flipped over, and butterflies took flight in my stomach. Has there ever been a more gorgeous man to walk the planet? I don’t think so. And for a man to be graced with looks and such a pure heart? The way he was so concerned with the dogs, how he handled them so delicately with all the love in the world. I’ve always known you can tell everything you need to know about a person based on how they treat animals. And Rhys? He’s gold.
The check came and went, and soon Blake and I were back at our house after another silent ride home. I fully expected him to call me out on my behavior, especially after our little pep talk in the car on the way there. But how dare he tell me I can’t have another glass of wine? I don’t even like wine, but it was that or some stuffy hard alcohol that I knew I had no interest in sipping on all night. Who even likes scotch and whiskey? They burn.
