Degrees of Love, page 11
I was getting ahead of myself. Reese had kissed me. He’d said he cared about me. He hadn’t used the word love. He wanted more than friendship. He wanted sex, that was very clear, but how much more he wanted was murky. What I wanted was just as hazy. His true feelings frightened me. I didn’t want to face shallow affection, which was worse than rejection, nor did I want to deal with the consequences of loving him and him loving me.
Saturday passed in a blur of morning cartoons, soccer games, and laundry.
On Sunday, I went to church. I dragged my sleepy children out of bed with me, but let Matt sleep. Reverend Jim gave an upbeat sermon about our duty to God. According to Reverend Jim, our first duty to God was to be happy. He didn’t advise what we should do if, in the pursuit of bliss, we destroyed the happiness of others. The reverend was an honorable person. His joy came from being good. Couldn’t he understand that not all of us were as unselfishly virtuous as he was?
I knew what Reverend Jim meant when he said we were the creators of our own happiness. He meant we should be gratified with the gifts God gave us on a daily basis. He wanted us to find contentment in the simple things of life. Even so, the overriding theme was I would be failing God if I allowed myself to remain unhappy.
I wasn’t happy. I hadn’t experienced pure joy in a long time. I tried to find happiness at home with my husband and children. I experienced moments that gave me hope, but holding on to it was like trying to hold water. It slipped maddeningly away before I could bring it to my lips and quench my thirst.
On the way out of church, Reverend Jim hugged me and said, “It’s so good you joined us this morning.”
“Thank you. I enjoyed the sermon. It’s given me a lot to think about.”
“Well, you probably don’t need to work too hard at being happy. You’re so blessed with your beautiful family.” He smiled and moved on to the next parishioner.
The man was a simpleton. How easy life must be for him.
Shame washed over me. I had no business muddying our lives. Reese wasn’t a viable fix. I had to try harder with Matt. I drove home from church resolved.
Later that afternoon, I opened Matt’s top dresser drawer to put his socks away. While shifting a few things to make everything fit, I noticed an unused A’s baseball ticket at the bottom. I picked it up and looked at it. Then, I took it to my office and compared the date on the ticket to my calendar.
It was for the day Matt had taken the boys and told me he didn’t have a ticket for me.
The next morning at 6 a.m., I revved up my laptop, opened Outlook, and typed in Reese’s e-mail address. In the subject line, I typed, “YES.”
At 6:02, my phone rang.
No greeting, he said, “I about lost my mind waiting to hear from you.”
“Sorry I did that to you.” My voice shook.
“It’s okay, you needed time.”
I heard someone using the bathroom. “I can’t talk right now.”
“I understand. Let me know when your flight arrives. I’ll arrange everything.”
I hung up believing he loved me. I imagined what he would say and what I would say when we actually said the words. I rewound, rewrote, and edited my little screenplay multiple times during the next five days.
I don’t know how I got through the week. Reese and I didn’t talk or exchange e-mails as we had done. Our conversations were awkward, and we stuck to business. I was cautious of being too familiar. I think he was cautious of my coolness. I wish I could say I almost cancelled our assignation half a dozen times due to my consuming guilt, but I can’t.
Maybe it was my acting skills, or it could have been my childhood, engrained desire never to be caught being naughty, but I lied smoothly. I told Matt I was required to be in Chicago for a weekend of teambuilding activities. Matt didn’t question it.
To assuage my guilt, or more precisely, guilt for not feeling guilty, on Friday night I did laundry, made a batch of chicken enchiladas for Matt and the boys to eat over the weekend, and had sex with Matt.
Despite my evening’s exertion, I didn’t need an alarm clock to be up and at the airport in time to catch my 6 a.m. flight to Chicago. It felt no different than any other routine business trip until the plane landed; then, my nerves woke with a vengeance. I made my way to the baggage claim area with sweaty palms and butterflies flapping wildly in my stomach. I didn’t see Reese. His flight arrived thirty minutes prior to mine, and he was supposed to be waiting for me. Please, don’t bail on me. Then, I spied him leaning against a pillar.
He could have been a Calvin Klein advertisement with his jeans hanging loosely on his hips and a casual V-neck sweater over a partially unbuttoned shirt, hinting at a well-built chest. It was the first time I’d seen him in jeans, and he’d never looked sexier.
Reese smiled when he saw me. I walked toward him, unsure how to greet him. Shaking hands was out. Throwing my arms around him and planting a smacking wet one on his lips would be inappropriate. He made our reunion easy by gliding smoothly to my side. He wrapped his arm around my waist and pecked me on the cheek.
“It’s good to see you,” he said.
Reese had arranged for a limo to take us from O’Hare to the resort. The limo wasn’t a romantic gesture. It was simply the way he was accustomed to traveling.
We rode, holding hands and making small talk for the first few miles of the drive. Too nervous to look at his face or his eyes, I studied his graceful, callus-free hands. He worked with his mind, not his hands. Imagining those hands touching me made me shiver.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“No.” On the contrary, I was sweating.
Reese angled my face to look at him. Then, he took my hand, brought it to his lips, and inadvertently kissed my wedding ring. We both colored, and he dropped my hand. He put his arm around me, and I leaned against him.
I just started to relax when Matt called. I instinctively pulled away from Reese and turned my back to him. “Matt, I can’t talk right now.”
“Micah can’t find his cleats.”
“They’re on the back porch.”
“I already looked there.”
“Oh, that’s right. I cleaned them. They’re next to the wash basin in the laundry room.”
“Thanks.”
“I’ll call you tonight.”
I hung up and glanced at Reese. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
Then I glanced at the limo driver. I could see his eyes in the rearview mirror. He seemed to be looking at me. Reese guessed my thoughts and squeezed my hand. “He doesn’t know. Even if he did, he doesn’t care.”
When we got to the resort, Reese checked us in while I waited in the lobby. He wore the boyish grin that I loved when he returned to walk me to our room. He knew I would find it enchanting. A four-poster bed with a fluffy down comforter, wood burning fireplace, and a view of Lake Michigan. I could see a path leading around the lake from the window. He had chosen the setting for our big weekend well.
I looked at the fireplace and the bed again, and started to shake as a wave of unacknowledged guilt crashed over me.
“Something wrong? Don’t you like the room?”
“The room is fabulous. I …well ...” I couldn’t control my shaking.
His arms were around me in seconds, and he held me securely against him. While he held me, his hand ran up and down my back, soothing me. His strong body pressed against mine calmed me, like slipping into a warm bath. I felt safe and much loved. My body relaxed and molded to his embrace.
“Don’t be afraid … I love you,” he whispered in my ear.
How many times had I fantasized about this moment? Instinctively, I pulled back. Option 1 flashed through my head. Was that supposed to be a joke? Don’t be afraid? He wasn’t my seventh-grade boyfriend trying to French kiss me.
I fully acknowledged having a tendency towards drama, but I was afraid. I was afraid of the pain I’d endure if I gave him that part of me. It would start as a dull ache and eventually that part of my heart would separate from my body, dead and lifeless. There would be a black hole where it had been. The only thing to fill it would be pain, but it would never be filled. It would be a black hole. I would be alone again. Loneliness would once again be my only companion.
“You don’t love me.”
Grabbing my shoulders, he bent down so we were eye level. “Don’t tell me what I feel.”
I jerked away. “I shouldn’t be here. We need to stop before people get hurt.”
He stared at me with watery eyes. “Too late. You’re hurting me.”
“I’m so sorry.” I couldn’t get air in my lungs. I had to get away from him before my floodgate broke, but before I could think what to do, bile pushed into my throat. I jetted to the bathroom, locked the door, and let go of a low moan. My stomach erupted, heaving until nothing was left.
With my head hanging in the toilet, I heard Reese knock. “Are you okay?” When I didn’t answer, he tried to open the door. “Susan, open the door.”
“I’m fine,” I groaned. “Give me a minute.”
Slowly, I pulled my head together. It wasn’t too late to back out. A ripping feeling split down my chest, but knowing someday it would just be a dull throb, gave me hope. No one had to know how close I’d come to falling off the precipice. Matt hadn’t noticed a difference in me up until now, and he never would. Despite the guilt, I’d never tell him. It would be the worst kind of selfishness to confess just to ease my conscience.
I splashed water on my face and washed the sour vomit taste out my mouth. When I opened the door, Reese was sitting in the chair by the window.
“I’m sorry,” I choked. I couldn’t hold back my tears.
He silently got up, led me to the chair, and cradled me in his lap. He held me and gently rocked me, occasionally kissing my hair or my forehead. I listened to his heartbeat and our breathing synchronized. He felt right. I was such a mess.
He held me for a long time before he quietly said, “Susan, I—”
“No, please, I don’t want to talk.” I hadn’t been held like this for years. The physical closeness of a man, the comforting warmth of his body, the soft caresses, and the sound of his heartbeat thrumming rhythmically lulled me into a state of nirvana. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to think. I just wanted him to hold me and let time stand still.
“All you have to do is listen.”
How could I not?
“I thought it would be easier for you if you knew how I felt, but I scared you. I think there are two reasons. First, you have no idea what to expect, so I’ll make you a promise. You’ll never have to choose between your family and me. They’re on the West Coast. I’m on the East. I’ll maintain a 3,000-mile distance if that’s what you want.
“The second reason is you don’t completely trust me yet. I wasn’t trying to imitate your old boyfriend when I said, ‘Don’t be afraid.’ I swear I didn’t even think about it until you ran into the bathroom. All I meant was that I don’t want you to be afraid of me hurting you.”
He was right on all counts. My nerves were too raw and I didn’t think I could handle much more. I tried to get up, but he pulled me back onto his lap.
“Please, just listen,” he whispered in my ear. “I love you.” He said each word slowly and distinctly. “I feel very connected to you. I know I love you … hey, look at me.” He gently lifted my chin and made me look into his mesmerizing eyes. They were soft and oh so loving, inviting me into his soul. “Can’t you see—no, can’t you feel how much I love you? Please, trust me … stop thinking and let yourself feel.”
Staring into his eyes, I did see. I did feel and for reasons I couldn’t define, I trusted him. I wanted him to know me, all of me. I wanted him to see inside me, and in that moment, my soul left my body and joined with his. The bond wasn’t just spiritual. It was physical. We became one—not soul mates, one soul, a completely out of body experience. It was beautiful and wondrous, and Godly. How could I feel guilty about it? How could it be wrong?
“I love you,” I murmured.
He kissed me softly, ever so tenderly, our lips parting and carried me to the bed.
“I need to make love to you,” he whispered.
He took his time unbuttoning my blouse, stopping to rest his head on my breasts, listening to my heartbeat, caressing my waist, inhaling the scent of me. In turn, I slowing pulled off his sweater and unbuttoned his shirt. I took a moment to savor the sight of his bare chest. It was as hard and defined as I had imagined. My touch made him quiver as I glided my fingertips down his chest and through his course curly hair, trailing to where I wanted to touch him most. I moaned when he put one of my nipples in his mouth.
After we explored each other’s body with our hands, our lips, and our tongues, he entered me. Sighing with utter completeness, we became one soul and one body. We moved as one, and as one exploded in a burst of pleasure. I shattered as blinding white light gave way to vivid colors—dazzlingly bright colors—that suffused my vision. Consumed by fire and reduced to ash, I was reborn through the power of his love.
Afterwards, he continued to touch and kiss me. His skin was caress every time he moved, and I’d never felt so loved, so desired. How could I not want him? I knew I had a lot to consider, that I fell—no, jumped with my arms spread wide—off the precipice. I was still soaring and didn’t want to think about what would happen when I hit the ground.
My rumbling stomach temporarily pulled me down from the clouds.
He asked, “Is my love hungry?”
Hearing him call me his “love” made me ravenous. I sought his mouth and kissed him hungrily. Our arms and legs twisted together and our bodies roared with life. Nothing slow about it, we made love wildly. Reese teased and tantalized me, making me crazy with delicious agony until I couldn’t take it another second. I screamed, “Now! For the love of God, now.” He rolled us, letting me take control, and we exploded together a second time.
Collapsing on his chest, I panted, “You are an incredible lover.”
“I aim to please.”
“Oh, you pleased alright. I’ve never had that intense of—”
“An orgasm,” he finished for me chuckling.
“Yes,” I admitted with a giggle. “But I was going to say ‘of a physical experience.’”
“Much more lady-like.” He beamed. “That was damn intense for me, too. As much as I’d like to take all the credit, I think we’re pretty incredible together.”
“I think you’re right.” I kissed his chest. “By the way, your love is still ravenous.”
“Wasn’t I big and juicy enough for you?”
“Nope.”
He looked at me incredulously.
I laughed. “You are a delectable piece of meat, but I’m starving. I need food.”
He laughed, too. “Want to get dressed and go somewhere special?”
“No, I’m enjoying the view too much.” I guessed he was in a gym on a daily basis. He couldn’t get that physique sitting at a desk. “How’s the room service here?”
“Supposed to be pretty good. It’s one reason I chose this resort; I was hoping to keep you locked up here all weekend. And by the way, I’m enjoying the view, too. I love your curves.”
While we waited for room-service, he built a fire. We spent the evening cuddling in front of the fireplace, feeding each other dinner and drinking the wine he’d brought until our stomachs were full and our heads buzzed with wine.
He made me smile. He seemed so unabashedly happy. I asked, “Happy?”
“Insanely happy. I’ve wanted to be with you like this for months, but you’re even more beautiful than I’d imagined, being with you is more amazing than I’d imagined.”
Staring into each other’s eyes, we made love again. When we were done, we fell asleep in each other’s arms.
I woke up peaceful and warm with the sun streaming on my face and a soft sheet caressing my body. It took me a moment to remember where I was and why I was naked. I rolled over to find Reese lying on his side gazing at me with a deep crease marring his brow.
He murmured, “Good morning.”
I frowned at him. “What’s wrong?” I couldn’t imagine what could be wrong. Last night had been perfection.
“I know you can’t stay with me, but I’m worried you’ll go home and never come back.”
“Don’t be afraid,” I teased and smiled at him. I brushed his forehead lightly with my fingertips, trying to erase his worry lines. “I love you,” I said softly.
He pulled me to his side and held me as if he never intended to let go. His muscles were tense and his grip like iron. I glanced at the clock. We’d been up late and consequently, had slept late. I didn’t say anything until his muscles relaxed and his grip loosened.
“Let’s have brunch and then take a walk along the lake.”
He agreed and let me shower first. He kissed me when I came out and then took his turn. I started to get my clothes out of my bag when it hit me that I hadn’t called home. Crap. I found my purse underneath discarded clothes and retrieved my phone. It seemed a bit indecent calling with only a towel draped around me, but I wanted to finish before Reese got out of the shower.
Micah answered, “Hello?”
“Hi, Micah. It’s Mom.”
“Oh, hi.”
“Did you win your game yesterday?”
“No, we lost by one goal.”
“That’s too bad, but you were up against a really good team.”
“Yeah. Do you want to talk to Jason?”
“Sure.”
