day you’ll find someone that you’ll get to seventy years with,” he said, smiling.
I shuddered, imagining myself at a century old. “I’ll settle for fifty. And thanks for talking and walking me back.”
Eduardo nodded and jerked his thumb toward his car. “See you later?”
“Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.”
He nodded, turned on his heels, and walked a few steps toward his car. He stopped, turned and speed-walked back to me. With a look of determination on his handsome face, he cupped my neck and kissed me. The shock of his soft lips against mine popped my mouth open. After a few beats, I relaxed under his expert tongue.
Eduardo broke away. “Damn, you taste like . . . like strawberries. I thought you’d be bitter.”
“Bitter?” I jerked back. “Why? Because I’m going to be a divorcee?”
“No. From the wine.”
I licked my lips, my heart racing. But as expertly as he kissed, something was off. Wrong. I slammed my back against the car. “W-what . . . What was that?” I fingered my bruised lips.
“I’m sorry.” He stuffed fingers through his hair. “You’re tough and extraordinary and beautiful. And you standing there, looking fragile and fierce at the same time, I just had to kiss you.”
“Look, I’m not even divorced and I—”
“I know. I knew as soon as I charged over to kiss you that it wasn’t the right time. But I had to take my shot.” He gave me a small smile. “See you later?” He repeated his earlier question. But I knew this time it meant something different. He wanted to make sure we were okay.
“Every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday.”
* * *
I stared at my phone, hands sweating and shaking, as I had been for the past thirty minutes. My mouth went hot and dry, so dry the swallow I forced had scratched my throat.
Can I swing by later today? I have a few things I need to get from the basement.
Darren.
I wished I could run into Raina’s room to get her advice, but she wasn’t home. She already had a full day planned with her brother, going to Six Flags, of all things. I shuddered thinking about the lines and thousands upon thousands of people.
“You can do this.” I wiped my hands on my summer dress and responded.
Sure. What time?
I asked so I could get the heck out of Dodge. I needed to see Robotic Darren like I needed a hole in my brain. I already had a huge hole in my heart.
There were dancing dots on the phone screen. He was responding quicker than I had anticipated.
I’m a few minutes away, if that’s okay?
My heart stuttered and plopped on the ground. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for him. I hadn’t spoken to the man in months. No talks of divorce proceedings or I miss yous. Just radio silence. I didn’t know what to do or say. From the research I’d done online on how to support a partner who’d been sexually abused, the biggest factor was to be supportive and give them time to process their feelings.
I bit my lip and paced the floor. What in the heck did he need from here anyway? He took everything, rented out a storage unit up the street. The day he left was the most emotional he’d been since starting his sessions with Dr. Fuckboy. He hugged me, albeit awkwardly, and promised to continue to pay half the mortgage. I didn’t know where he’d been staying, and I didn’t ask. I’d been too torn up to form a coherent sentence.
I rushed to the mirror, taking a quick scan of my appearance. When one goes through a divorce, one wants the soon-to-be ex–significant other to do a double take—and not from pity.
The summer dress that used to hug my curves hung from my body like a burlap sack. And speaking of ugly bags, they were present and accounted for under my eyes. My hair was smooth and together thanks to my earlier salon appointment.
Pulling open my vanity drawer, I grabbed and then scattered makeup on the counter. I swiped the foundation stick across my face, focusing on the bags.
“Problem solved.” I smiled at myself in the mirror. I dabbed on a clear gloss that tasted like strawberries.
“Damn, you taste like . . . like strawberries.”
A wave of guilt stopped me. The kiss was soft, gentle, reverent. And though the feelings weren’t there for Eduardo, I was secretly thrilled to feel wanted.