Acutely aware of how intense my gaze comes across, I purposefully work to soften my eyes as well as my voice before speaking.
“I’m afraid so," I respond, firming my voice. "I have two evaluations to complete by Sunday night that need to be ready for Monday morning. I apologize for not making that clear beforehand.” Pulling my briefs in place, I hurriedly jerk my pants up my legs and turn to her as I button them. “Feel free to stay the night, V. I’ve already paid for the room, and you can order something on room service if you’d like.”
Averting my eyes from the sudden look of hurt that flashes in her eyes, I turn and reach for my shirt, pulling it on and commence to looking for my socks and shoes. I feel awful doing this to her, I do, but I'll feel even worse if I lead her on to believe that there's something here between us that's not. I'm not getting suckered back into a life that I worked so hard to get away from. If I was going to fall for someone like my ex-wife,then I should have just stayed with her and avoided raising my son in a divorced household.
“Oh,Alex—“ Veronica implores. Sliding forward on one slender arm, she bites her bottom lip in a bid to look more enticing. It doesn't work.
“Refer to me as Alexander, please," I interrupt. "No one calls me Alex."
Because I won’t let them. Too personal.
Veronica scoffs. “It’s a Friday night. We were supposed to have fun,” she says. Keeping the sheet clutched to her chest, she sits up on her knees and raises her gray eyes to meet mine.“Do you have to?”
I finish tying my shoes and stand up. She doesn't deserve for me to act like a complete asshole, so I lean forward and brush her hair behind her ear before pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Veronica pulls her lips into a pout, but I speak before she has a chance to.
“Yes. Unfortunately, there’s a cost to being a psychiatrist,” I say softly, holding her eye contact. “I’ll check on you in the morning and have an Uber here for you by ten-thirty.”
Then I can figure out what excuse to give you for not being able to continue this ridiculous farce of a relationship.
Pulling away to walk to the door, her next words stop me dead in my tracks, causing me to turn my head slightly as she lashes out at me.
“You’re socold!"Her high-pitched voice rings out harshly, touching that tender spot inside me that's always felt attacked about my demeanor."My coworker told me to not ask for your number. To not eventrybecause you were icier than fucking Alaska. I should have listened to her!” she spits out from the bed behind me, throwing off the covers and standing up angrily to find her bra.
Her words hurt, like they always do.
“Perhaps," I say gruffly. "Goodnight, Veronica.” Ignoring the sting, I open the swanky five-star hotel door, exiting the room into the brightly lit hallway.
I'm icy because no one’s been able to warm me up.
Though I'd just left her, loneliness swells heavy, familiar, and hard in my chest as I make my way to the elevator bank and push the button.
As I stand there, waiting for the elevator to open, I contemplate on how I’d been unable to thaw out enough to even be comfortable with us driving together to our date tonight. I get it's odd, but I just can’t let my guard down with anyone no matter how hard I try to put myself out there. For the hundredth time, I examine the thought that I'm still probably not ready to move on after my divorce. Maybe I'm not healed enough yet. I'll have to let her down...
Like I've done with various women for the last nine years since my divorce.
I swear a career in psychiatry was the best and worst thing that could have ever happened to me. Unfortunately, even outside of work when it's inconvenient, I see everything. I miss hardly anything, except real connections, genuine conversation, and chemistry.
I miss those things, a lot.
When I board the elevator I pull out my phone to text my best friend, Johnathan, not really expecting him to respond since he’s been busy with a five-month-old. I smile wryly, thinking about starting all over with kids again at the age of forty-three. No way, man.
AR: Sorry for the piss-poor update, but I don't know man…It's not going to work out with Veronica. I don’t like her. Couldn’t make myself spend thenight. I couldn’t even fuck right. It’s time for me to step back and just stop trying for a bit.
I run a hand through my hair, pulling the strands away from my forehead as I disembark the elevator, rather absentmindedly than normal.
Listening to my shoes tapping on the marble floor, I muse even deeper. Thinking on how hard it's been for me to keep my boundaries firmly in place since the divorce. A hard lesson I had to learn from being Hannah's doormat for well over ten years.
Right as I make it to the front revolving doors of the hotel my phone pings.
J. Dawg: It’s only been four weeks, Alexander. You have to give it longer. You do this with EVERYONE. You date for a month and then call it quits with every woman you’ve talked to in over seven years. I find it hard to believe out of the nine women you’ve dated since your divorce, you haven’t found one that fits your high standards?
He doesn't get it. No one in my small circle does.
Shaking my head, I pocket my phone, make my way to my luxury BMW and drive off without bothering to respond. He's got his happily ever after already. He, Colin, and Vincent all do. I just want mine, now. And I don't want to feel judged at the way I go about it. Sowhatif I have to go slow to find it? I went fast with Hannah and look where that got me: almost middle-aged with no one to love. That's where.
My chest now burns with irritation because Johnathan's text has my hackles up. He's one of the rare people who can get under my skin and make me doubt myself. Because, though my standards might be high, evenIknow better than to fall for a woman who only wants me for my status. And I keep lucking outand finding all the women who want me for my name and what being attached to me could mean for them and their life.
Though I don't mind having a woman to spoil, and who will benefit from my lifestyle and what I've worked so hard for, I want to feel seen for once. Not used. Notdoubtful.
