the stress from looking for a replacement for Patty was weighing me down. I’d been home for almost a week now, and there were still no prospects remotely qualified to fill Patty’s position.
She smiled suggestively. “Your mind and other things were fine thirty minutes ago.”
She tore off the covers and exposed herself. I turned away.
It had taken two whole years for me to give in to Vivian’s flirtation, yet it didn’t let up the guilt. How could I be cheating when my wife was already dead?
In the next second, her hands were around me, and her lips were against my neck. “Stay, Charles. I’ll make it worth it. I promise.”
I extracted her hands and peered down at her. Vivian was stunningly beautiful with her light-olive skin and silky, straight jet-black hair that rested just above her waist.
“You know I can’t. I have to get back to the girls.”
Her calm, put-together demeanor faltered, and I exhaled deeply. I didn’t want to give her hope, hope for a future between us that would never come.
“Vivian, maybe it’s time that we—”
She went on her toes and silenced me with her lips. “Enough. We’ve discussed this. I’m okay with this arrangement, Charles. I know this is all you can give me right now.”
I stared down at her, my eyes firm. “This is a permanent situation for me. This is all I can give you ever, and you deserve more than what this is. You deserve a future with a guy who can stay the night. Vivian, you deserve dinner and a movie and not a couple of hours of sex every other week.”
Her hands trailed up my chest, slowly running up and down my nipple. “I look forward to our sex sessions every other week.”
I took her hands in mine, and my chest seized. I knew if I gave her an inch, she’d take it. Problem was, there was nothing in me left to give.
“That’s the thing. You should look forward to more than that.”
“I’m not looking for anything more, Charles.” She raised a fine, arched eyebrow. “I’m not the marrying or children type. You know this about me. And right now, this is all I have time for too.”
Beautiful yet cutthroat, Vivian looked like a woman but was internally built like a man. She was a partner at the law firm that we used. She wasn’t the lawyer we dealt with because I wasn’t going to complicate my life any further.
Like me, her time was limited, but the difference between us was that I chose to make time for my family.
“I don’t want to be that guy who gives you false hope. I’ve told you time and time again, Viv, that you have so much to offer.”
“Enough,” she said, her tone sharp yet playful. “You’ve always been honest with me. I’m an adult, Charles, and this is what I want.” She reached for the button on my slacks. “I want another hour, and that’s all.”
Her lips met mine, and I flinched. The thing with Vivian worked because in the moments I was with her, I disconnected my heart from my body. Because that heart—the organ that pumped blood to every part of my body—belonged to someone else. And that someone else was no longer alive.
The next morning, I walked into the kitchen and found Brad sitting at the kitchen table. He was a disheveled, hungover mess. His hair was not styled to his normal perfection, and his eyes were bloodshot. But he was dressed and all ready for work. This was nothing new, as this was his lifestyle that I was used to. As long as he showed up to work and did his job as VP and was present when the girls needed him, I didn’t care what he did afterward.
One day, someone would knock him on his ass. Hopefully, a woman who would tame his wild ways.
He stared up at me and waved a weak hand. “Hey. Where were you last night? You weren’t home when I left, which was pretty late.”
I swallowed and walked toward the coffee machine. “Vivian’s,” I said the word curtly, brooking no further comment.
I didn’t know why I felt guilty. We were all grown men. Some would judge his lifestyle more than my life choices. Still, I didn’t want to live this life. I’d tried to break it off with Vivian multiple times because I didn’t like how our relationship felt—like she was my dirty little secret.
I judged my moral compass based on my children—whether they