about how he’s complaining he has blue balls. Like he can talk. I have a blue fucking vagina from no sex in months. I hit up my rabbit any moment I have alone time. Good old faithful bunny hasn’t been used for over a year, and suddenly, it’s rabbit season.
I mingle in the crowd, saying hello and doing the social thing, but in body, my mind is elsewhere. I lie through my teeth when asked about Lex. Thank God, I’m a lawyer and know the art of showing no emotion. I’m on my fifth champagne when a familiar voice calls my name. I turn around, and it’s none other than Julian Baker.
“Julian?”
He stands before me, and I’d be lying if I said he has no effect on me whatsoever. He hasn’t changed one bit, his looks on par with the ever-so-dashing Christian Bale. Maybe his hair is cut a little shorter, his chiseled jaw freshly shaven, and he smells so fucking amazing, my blue vagina may just have skipped a beat. The tuxedo on him is sexy. God, it’s like a blast from the past knocking the wind out of me.
“If it isn’t the gorgeous Charlie Mason.”
“Edwards… Charlie Edwards,” I correct him.
Yeah, but for how much longer? Stop right there, Charlie.
“Right, of course. So, tell me, gorgeous, how have you been?”
Fuck, did I slightly melt at him calling me gorgeous? No, you didn’t, Charlie, you are just mad at your husband.
“Good. And you? Are you still living in New York?”
“No, I moved to LA not long ago.”
Oh.
We chat about his move, and surprisingly, it feels just like old times. We laugh about life in general, and not once does he ask about Lex. Thank God. And maybe it’s my paranoia, but he’s standing awfully close. I don’t push him away, welcoming the feeling of being wanted. There’s always a place for Julian, but tonight his importance has stepped up a notch.
“Dance with me, gorgeous.”
“Julian… I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”
“Why? Your husband didn’t care enough to attend this event and celebrate this milestone of yours. Why can’t an old friend celebrate with you?”
“Because we were more than just friends, Julian.”
He holds out his hand, and reluctantly, I take it. There’s something comforting and familiar about his touch, something I crave so desperately, intimacy.
Our bodies become flush, and inside his arms, we dance slowly to ‘If It’s Over,’ the song setting the mood. We remain quiet for a few minutes, just enjoying the moment. I know I’m playing with fire here—I mean I was going to marry this guy. I’d planned to have kids with this man. I did things to him in the bedroom that could only be described as ferociously kinky. I need to back away now before it’s too late, the voices in my head are screaming at me.
But Lex doesn’t love you anymore, Charlie.
It’s over.
It is almost like he knows, pulling me in closer and whispering, “Gorgeous, I’ve missed you.”
With a pained stare, my body is in turmoil, fighting off past memories of a time when this man gave me the world. The second my eyes close, unwillingly, I breathe in his scent and question my choices. I’m at a loss of what to do, my head telling me to run with my vows still intact, but the hurt Charlie, the one yearning for her husband who pushes her away, is enjoying this moment with this unbelievably sexy man who once called me his.
“I should have fought harder for you. I let him win.”
“It wasn’t a game, Julian.”
“But he won.”
“Did he?”
Fuck, I didn’t mean for that to come out. I’m hurting, wanting Lex to feel the same way. I want him to feel the pain of giving up on our marriage, on us. Julian will always be the dark cloud hanging over Lex’s ego, and perhaps, that alone pushes my senses to a place of irrationality.
“Gorgeous, I still love you.”
Julian’s stare is boring into me, causing a wave of emotions only adding to my confused state. He says the words every part of me wants to hear, the weight of his intention resting on my shoulders inducing a tightness in my chest.
But I crave to hear these words from my husband.
“Tell me you still feel the same,” he begs me with his eyes.
“Julian… I do still love you, but I’m not in love with you, and certainly not in the way you deserve to be loved. You can’t erase the past, and for a while,