Boundaries. I am respecting boundaries. It is what I tell myself as I pick my phone to call Lydia and have her dismiss the applicants waiting. It is the same thing I say as I tuck Brianna in bed. I smoothen the hair out of her forehead and place a kiss on her cheek. Her head rolls to the side, she blinks sleepily at me.
“Hello,” I murmur, pushing back the urge to crawl in bed with her. “Daddy loves you.”
“Hello,” she whispers in a scratchy voice. Her eyelids droop and her breathing evens out. She is asleep.
Wait. She spoke.
Brianna spoke.
The realisation washes over me, my breath rushes out in shallow puffs. I thread my fingers into my hair and stare at my baby girl in awe. She fucking talked. If I left with El, I would have missed this.
Tears of joy stand in my eyes, I bounce out of her room to mine. Holy fuck. She spoke to me.
After a phone call to the physiotherapist and a text to Sophia, I snuggle under the covers, staring at the ceiling instead of getting a much needed nap like the girls. I place a pillow on my face, toss and turn but my thoughts continue to revolve around one person. She should have been here to witness it. We might not be on the best of terms but she has been nothing but supportive since Brianna woke.
Am I doing the right thing? I stop trying to sleep and drag myself to the bathroom.
Water runs down my scalp to my feet, my hands press to the wall of the stall. My thoughts consume me. El wanted me there. I turn off the water and close my eyes, I can still fix my fuck ups. We can get back together. Stepping out of the shower with water pooling at my feet, I return to the room naked to scour my wardrobe for the right outfit to match hers. I am not sure what El’s wearing but I am sure I can never go wrong in a suit.
It takes minutes for me to get ready, soon, I am in the backseat with Enzo at the wheels to drive me to the venue. From a few metres, I spot the paparazzi crowded at the entrance, ready to hound guests for pictures. Idiots. I hate them. Those nosy motherfuckers missing the word—privacy in their dictionary.
I slide my phone out of my breast pocket to call El but think against it. I want to surprise her. Besides, I am an asshole and she might refuse to pick my calls out of spite. Enzo finds a parking spot at the back, I meander through the flashing lights and the bulky security ushers me in after seeing my invitation card.
The brightness of the hall hits me first, I squint at the chandelier hanging low from the ceiling. The edge of my hand goes to my forehead to act as a shield until my eyes adjust to the lights. I fiddle with my tie and scan the place till I find the perfect spot. A round table with two empty seats, away from the others.
Jazz music filters to the air as the live band serenades the small crowd. A few guests catwalk to the makeshift dancefloor, dancing in rhythm to the song. I sneak a glance at my wristwatch. I am late. Skimming through the card with the order of events, a frown settles on my lips. I missed the major event. The fundraising. I drop the card to the table and run my hands over my face.
El doesn’t have to know I came late. I motion for a passing server and collect a glass of wine from him.
For the first time, I pay attention to the people I’m sharing a table with. Four women and a man who looks like he wants to be elsewhere. The thick scent of their colognes speaks volume of their wealth. I shift under the gaze of the younger female. If she licks those dry lips again, I might throw up on myself.
She holds my gaze for an uncomfortable second and slides into the empty seat close to me. I swallow a protest. Afterall, I came here on my own volition. My eyes roam the hall, they settle on the tables at the other end. El’s table. She hasn’t seen me.
She won’t.
She can’t since she’s laughing at something T says. Wrinkles appear on my forehead. Tossing and turning in bed seems more appealing than watching both of them. Everyone on her table is in pairs. Man and woman. T is her date. I don’t know how to feel about that since I turned her down.
I gulp the content of my glass and request for a refill. But it’s not enough. My heart thrashes in my chest when both of them stand, I hold my breath as he guides my wife to the dancefloor.
What is she wearing?
She’s a vision in her black gown but I can see her long legs, the exposed skin of her thighs. Did she put that front slit deliberately? It’s high up to her thighs. When she moves, I catch an unholy glimpse of dark skin. The upper part of her gown is a bit decent. Thin straps with a V-cut that shows only the swell of her breasts. I bet she is not wearing a bra. My dick twitches in agreement. We would love to find out.
T slips an arm around her waist, I close my eyes and picture Brianna and the twins. That calms me until I open my eyes again. They are too close, no space between their bodies. A squeeze of my knee forces my eyes away from them. The female smiles at me, I arch a brow and she ducks her head as she pushes a curly strand of hair behind her ear. Another man might have found it sexy, not me. She is not my wife.
Her fingers run over the scarf wrapped around her neck. “Hey,” she breathes out.
Eyeing her hand on my knee long enough for her to feel uncomfortable, I reply, “I am not interested in what you have to say or offer.” A blush rises to her cheek, her hand slips away. I give her a thumbs up.
My attention returns to the dancefloor. The band changes the song to something more romantic and my fists clench when another man steals El from T. She’s laughing. It’s not funny. Annoyance coils my veins, I bristle with anger as the lights dim to create the perfect ambience for the song. They continue dancing, he whispers something in her ear and her head falls back with laughter. My jaw ticks when she slaps his shoulder and he flashes her a grin. His hand returns to her waist. I will break those hands.
T dances with his new partner until the song changes. El returns to him. I bite my tongue when he spins her in a circle. I will break his hands too. Is she fucking with me? Is this what she does when I am absent?
People are watching. The media is forever waiting to run a story and she’s being a bait. I shift in my seat, noticing now that the lady has returned to her place. Maybe I should take her to the dancefloor, dance close to those laughing chipmunks. It’s a song not a comedy show. But I can’t. I am still an awful dancer.
Seconds turn into minutes of dancing, I die a little on the inside each time she laughs at T’s jokes. The live band stops for a break and I release a relieved sigh. T stretches his hand to her, she takes it and my heart clenches. They walk hand in hand to their table and I am so tempted to crawl under mine and die. She hasn’t noticed me. With the amount of attention she is paying T, I doubt she will notice anyone else.
Luck must be in my favour, El stands. They communicate silently and he nods. She grabs her purse, I wait until she exits before I follow her. The sound of her heels connecting to the floor drowns my footsteps, she quickens her pace. I bridge the gap in a few strides, pausing in front of the door she disappeared into.
The restroom.
A few seconds later, I step in. It’s empty. The sound of a toilet going off breaks the silence, one of the doors of the stall opens and I take a step back, making sure to stick to the shadows. El stops in front of the mirror to clean up and touch up her makeup. Her hair is pulled back so the focus is on her pretty face and her pearl necklace. It must be new. My eyes glue to her round ass as she leans forward. Blood rushes to my manhood. We can forgive tonight’s behaviour if she allows us a few minutes of pleasure. I need her.
She smacks her lips, I step out of the shadows as she rummages through her purse. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror, she sighs and returns to searching her purse. I cross my arms as she reapplies that thing around her eyes to give a more sultry look. Is she doing it for T? She looks great. I am not complaining.
When she’s done, she pats her hair and sends me another annoyed glance through the mirror. I will not leave. “Brandon.” Her tone is flat like she doesn’t want me to be here. “This is for the ladies. Ladies only.”
My hands reach out behind me to lock the door. “Not anymore.”