Coming Around Again (10 page)

I don’t know, Mr. No-Name…you seem like you’d take over every tiny part
of my life.
“Just dinner.”

“Okay,” she agreed. “Just dinner.”

He leaned in, eyes gleaming with approval. “Good. Now, may I have my jacket,
please? I wouldn’t want anyone to think you’re giving services away for free.”

“Aren’t you more than just a pretty face?” she teased.

“I am Niels Strøm.” He gazed at her for a moment as she removed his jacket
from the wooden closet. “You know, if you married me, you’d sound like a
superhero.”

Wow. Stella Strøm did sound amazing. But not so amazing she would
already plan her life to a man who melted her underwear in five seconds flat.
“What makes you think I’m not one already?”

“You have no love interest. Yet.”

“That makes a superhero? Their other half?”

“Superman has Lois Lane. Spiderman has Mary Jane. Batman has Catwoman.
Stella needs her own someone.”

“And that would be you?”

“That
is
me.” He handed her a card. “You may run my name through
any search engine, should you desire. A woman who applies such care to her life
would do the same with anyone daring to enter it.”

He picked up her hand, kissed it, and strolled to the reception.

What in the world
, she thought. Stella Strøm.

Silly man. She was not going to marry him. No. Sleep with him. Yes.
Marry him. Absolutely not. No. Not at all. No.

One Year After Divorce

“Dad?” Will piped up, upturning his bag in the hunt for his mobile
phone.

Niels sighed deeply, quite sure that his son had forgotten his phone,
which meant he’d be getting a call from Stella accusing him of all sorts of
dastardly deeds. “I’m not going back for it, William, you’ll just have to ring
your mother from the house.”

“I know, it’s here somewhere. I just wanted to know if you’ve met Rash.”

Niels frowned. “Met... What?”

“Rash. Muma’s friend.”

A cold stillness filtered through his veins. “When did you meet this
friend?”

“He came over yesterday.” Will confided, completely unaware of the
effect of his words. “He said hello, told us our games were cool and he said
he’d see Mum tonight.”

Stella. Was. Dating?

“How many times have you met this Rash?”

“Just yesterday, but Muma said something about a rash and I thought
she’d run into some stinging nettles, but nah, she’s all right, just going out
with him. Don’t you think it’s a weird name?”

“Boy, you think
my
name is
weird.”

“It is. You sound like something in the DIY aisle in Homebase. Dad, you
have to promise you won’t take me or Danny there again. It’s so boring.”

“Okay, William. Let me just let your mother know and we’ll go downstairs
and eat.”

***

Stella felt her phone buzzing and sent her date a smile of apology
before glancing at it.

The Ex Prick:
What the fuck is a Rash? And why
are you introducing It to my children?

Stella burst out laughing and slapped a hand over
her mouth. “Sorry, it’s the babysitter,” she explained, getting up from her
seat and calling Niels.

“Why are you interrupting my one free night?”

“You have weekly free nights. Answer the question.”

“How culturally insensitive of you. Rash isn’t a
condition. Rash is a he. A nice he.”

Stella rested her elbow on her opposite hand,
smiling uncontrollably into her phone.

“Where did he come from? Is this what happens when
you’re not looking after the kids? You
contract
people?”

“Stop it!” she warned, struggling to contain her
laughter.

“How is it that he met my children?”

“
Our
children, and that wasn’t meant to
happen. He picked me up before I had the chance to drop the kids with you.”

“He was alone in the house?”

“I couldn’t very well make him sit in his car,
could I?”

“Serves him right for being early. When did you
meet him? And how much savlon should I buy to get rid of him?”

“Niels…” she said on a sigh.

“I’m listening.”

“I met him through work.”

“Did he come in for a back, sac, and crack?”

“No! God, why are you so vulgar? I was having lunch
with the event planner we’ve hired and he’s the restaurant manager.”

“He’s a glorified waiter.”

Oh, good God
. “I need to go now…”

“Use protection.”

“I’m not going to have sex with him on a first
date!” she hissed.
What was wrong with
him? And what was wrong with her that the conversation excited her more than
the entirety of her date?

“You did with me.”

“And look how that turned out!”

“Remember what I told you would happen if you ever
slept with another man?”

Ummm… She really needed to get off the phone before
a line was crossed that neither of them could uncross. “Seriously, I was a
five-pound Kings Cross whore for you and I’ve learned better.”

“It’ll happen. Exactly like I told you. Enjoy your
date.” He abruptly ended the call and with a huff, Stella returned to the
table. Rash had ordered her another cocktail.

“Sorry,” she said again, sitting down and folding
her hands in her lap. “Would you mind if I switch to water?”

“Not at all. Everything all right?”

“Right as rain,” she assured him. But as he talked
about his studying agriculture, Stella’s thoughts turned abruptly to Niels’
vow. He’d made it just shortly after they were married, when a male
receptionist in a hotel in Spain had given her far too much attention. In the
moonlight darkness of their beachfront room, Niels undressed her.

“Are you jealous?” she’d muttered, tilting her head
back to allow his lips to traverse over her shoulder.

“Of what? That boss-eyed little dick?”

“You are,” she teased. “If it’s this bad with a
little mild flirting, what will you do if I decide to get a boyfriend on the
side?”

“You’re not going to rile me,” he taunted.

“You wouldn’t have to be friends. Won’t be a Mormon
thing, where we enjoy communal living and have family meetings…”

He kissed her deeply, his fingers spearing over her
stomach, pressing her tight to his body, whispering his words into her skin.

“No, I’d want to meet him. In fact I’d want him to
know exactly where he was going wrong. I’d fuck you into delirium right in
front of him so he’d know what he and his pencil dick could never achieve. Your
complete surrender. Body. Mind. Soul. Let him watch. How you truly are when you
come; how you drench me; how you scream yourself hoarse. How every time you
were with him was only a sliver of what you give when I take you. Try it. You
know it’d appeal to the voyeur in me.”

The night they’d had together barely after those
words left his lips remained forever scorched in her brain. When she was
feeling extra low, she’d picture the scene. Somehow the dining table would be
set up in the living room where her lover would be tied to a chair and Niels
would press the length of his cock inside her, turning her head so her eyes
were on her lover while her husband savagely pounded into her. Guaranteed an
orgasm within five minutes.

For all his talk on voyeurism, Niels would never
let anyone see her in the midst of a sexual thrall. Her body had belonged
entirely to him. Her pleasure was his to control. And he knew she would never
let any man even approach her for the fantasy to be anything but that—a
fantasy. God, if she wasn’t ready to fuck. Looking at the man opposite her, she
accepted it wasn’t going to be with him.

She and Niels had talked about infidelity early on
in their relationship. Watching a film in the muted light of his bedroom, her
head balanced on his thigh as the film played on the screen, she confessed the
idea of cheating was utterly alien to her.

“You’ve never been cheated on?” he asked her, so
incredulous his fingers stilled in her hair.

She shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

“Oh, I see. You always cut out of the relationship
first.”

Stella bit her lip. “Maybe.”

“Yes, you did.”

“It wouldn’t ever happen with you.”

“Why are you so sure? I may one day forget to bring
you the right type of flowers or take you to see the wrong film… Then my dreams
would be shattered.”

“How dramatic! But you’d definitely leave me before
I ever left you.”

He frowned down at her, a bemused smile on his
face. “You sound certain. Why?”

Because I’m madly in love with you, you plum!
“Let’s watch the film, we’re talking through it.
Good thing we didn’t see it at the cinema; we’d have been chucked out.”

Niels left it alone and never raised it again. In hindsight,
it was probably because he knew how she felt and he knew full well she was
telling the truth. Now she wish she
had
taken a lover. Slept with someone else. At least that way she’d understand a
little of why Niels had abandoned her.

“Rash, would you mind dropping me home, please?
I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

The poor man scrambled for apologies for keeping
her and paid the bill. As he drove her home, he made small talk and Stella
tried to ignore her phone buzzing with text messages. Niels being belatedly
proprietary about her.

Rash pulled up into her driveway and turned to face
her. “Thank you for tonight,” he beamed. “I feel like I did all the talking,
though.”

“I’m sorry. There’s a lot to think about. And it’s
my first date since my divorce so…”

“Of course! Of course.” He leaned toward her, lips
puckered.

“Okay, goodnight!” she trilled, picking up her bag
and leaping out of the car. Closing the door to the house, she scrambled for
her phone and saw all the messages from her damnable ex.

Has he tried to touch you yet?

I bet he’s boring the hell out of you.

He’s not singing, is he?

Where did he take you? His restaurant?

She fired off a message of her own.

God’s sake, Niels. There’s a little document called
a Decree Absolute. Means you don’t get to interrupt my dates or insult them or
me. Stop it. Pay attention to the two sneaky buggers you sired.

As soon as she sent it, she wondered if she were
being too harsh. The text message she received in return told her to leave the
lion alone. No more taunting.

I believe that means my progeny is safe from a
Rash. Sense has prevailed. Let me know if you need satisfaction post-date.
We’re good at that. Or rather we were.

With a huff, she sent him a goodnight and went to
bed. She lay in the middle of her mattress, staring up at the ceiling, eyes
wide open. It took her another minute to concede defeat and hunt for her
vibrator. She figured Niels owed her for ruining what could have been something
simple and different.

Unfortunately, thanks to Niels, every time she
pictured Rash’s face, she pictured a bottle of antiseptic cream.

Niels indicated for the director to go ahead of
him, following the host to their table. He hated business lunches, but this one
was essential. Seemed the only way he would obtain the contact for the wind
turbines would be to talk Melinda Powell into the five-year agreement.

Sleek blonde hair waved over Melinda’s back as she
swayed toward their table. Resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose
for patience, Niels forced himself to follow the director.

He smelled her perfume before he saw Stella. She’d
worn Penhaligon’s for years and he’d bought it for her on several occasions.
That scent haunted him frequently. It mingled with his regrets and the best
times of his life.

His wife looked at her most unattainably beautiful.
In a black dress that sleekly skimmed her curves and her hair pinned with only
a few curls trailing her temples, she drifted through the tables and came to a
grinding halt when she saw him. His pulse threatened to choke him as he dragged
a smile onto his face.

“Hi,” she squeaked. Melinda stopped and turned back
to Niels.

“Something wrong?” Melinda asked.

Stella’s gaze wandered to Melinda and no one else
would have noticed, but Niels saw Stella’s embarrassment. The blush on her
cheeks and the widening of her eyes spoke volumes to him. “Melinda Powell, this
is Stella Strøm.”

“Mrs. Strøm!” Melinda turned pink, but held out a
hand in greeting. Stella gave it a brief shake before focusing her gaze on
Niels once more.

Even in the midst of their most difficult fights,
he would visit places, restaurants and wonder how she would enjoy it, her
reactions, what she would choose to eat and drink. Mostly how much she’d share
with him and it made him miss her with a desperation that caused him physical
agony.

“Former,” Stella murmured. “No longer. Position
vacant.”

“What are you here for?” Niels asked instead,
sensing Melinda’s increasing discomfort.

“I’m just having a nice dinner with Wynne and Eden
and Cara.”

“Cara?”

“Adeome. The one with the mouthy teenage girl who’s
too smart for her own good?”

That child made him ever so grateful that he didn’t
have a girl. “What’s the occasion?”

“Cara’s having a renewal ceremony with her husband.
Twenty years married.”

Bit fucking
insensitive of Cara.
“How nice for her.”

“Actually, I thought it was a bit fucking
insensitive given I’m a divorcee, but hey ho.” She turned and looked towards
her table. “Well, I’d better get back. I just got up to use the loo and check
on the babysitter.”

He wanted to tell her she looked beautiful. But it
wasn’t his place any more. “Nice to meet you,” Stella directed at Melinda and
with a careless brush of his arm, she stepped around Niels for the ladies room.

Almost frozen to the spot, he barely heard Melinda
take in a gasping breath and blurt, “That was intense!”

“Could have been worse,” he dismissed, directing
for Melinda to reach their table. Sitting down, the blonde curled her hair over
one shoulder.

Biting down on her lip she ventured, “Have you been
divorced for long?”

“Melinda, I realise that meeting was entirely
unexpected, but I would prefer we discuss what we came here to discuss. Wine?”

Blushing furiously, she nodded. “Of course. Yes.
That would be lovely.”

His glass of wine did little to assuage his guilt
for Stella’s current role. The dispirited divorcee who needed the pity and
self-serving sympathy of others. He couldn’t continue to live like this.
Something had to change.

***

Stella sat on the closed seat of the toilet and
stared sightlessly at the black painted wood of the door. He’d moved on. From
her. Already. As if their life together meant nothing.

Anger burned in her chest. How dare he mock her!
How dare he forget that renewal ceremony? Something the Adeome family had
planned for a long time. How dare he casually introduce her to some flimsy
blonde with his name attached to hers? As if she was still branded by him…and
goddamn it, she was! Fury burned in her chest and she searched the cubicle for
a way to get it out.

Without warning she slammed her fist into the paper
holder. Then again and again until the metal dislodged from the wall and
clattered to the ground.

A small knock forced her to gather herself
together. “Miss? Are you all right?”

“Yes!” Stella’s voice sounded reedy and unsteady.
“Yes, I’m fine. I just… The paper dispenser has broken.”

She stood up and unlocked the door. The toilet
attendant edged around Stella to look at the paper dispenser on the floor, and
her gaze went back to Stella’s face. Blinking with innocence, Stella simply
stepped to the basins and washed her hands, thoroughly dried them, and returned
to the table.

Eden leaned over to her and said, “Did I just see
Niels?”

Wynne choked on her outrageously expensive glass of
red wine. “Did you? Are we supposed to chase after him and make him pay?”

“Don’t be silly.” Stella dismissed her friends’
concern, tucking herself into the table and draping her napkin over her lap.
“There’s no need. You know Niels and I can’t fight because of the boys.”

Cara snorted. “I fight with Marcus for any reason
going. I had a fight with him because he bought me flowers and put them in the
wrong damn vase.”

“That’s because you fight with him to get banged,”
Eden reminded her. “This is different.” Stella sent Eden a sharp look. “Fuck,
sorry, can’t say it. Client confidentiality. But it’s taken them long enough to
be on speaking terms, so let’s not ruin it by pretending we can take him on.”

“Only takes a bottle to the back of the head,”
Wynne said with a shrug. “Who was the blonde?”

Stella lifted tense shoulders. “No idea. Not my
business any more. Now what else do you need for this renewal ceremony?”

Cara made a face. “Marcus wanted to invite Niels…”

Stella dug her nails into her palms under the
table. “It’s entirely up to him. Like I said. It’s not my business anymore.”

***

Nine years married

“If you do not stop jumping up and down your bed,
Daniel and William Strøm, you are not getting a single present!”

Niels heard the bellowing command from his office
and looked up from the mortgage document burning holes in his eyes. Between the
emails from his solicitors and the threats from someone he used to consider a
friend, his children’s seventh birthday party was supposed to be something
nice. A lovely distraction from the coming Armageddon. Not according to his
wife.

Without knocking, Stella threw open the door to the
office and said, “The bouncing castle people are stuck on the M4. God knows why
or how. A few parents are calling now asking if they can bring their kids and I
need to get more soft drinks, because someone has decided they don’t like
Robinsons anymore.”

Niels blinked patiently. “What would you like me to
do?”

“Help? Keep an eye on your spawn so I can go out?”

“Of course.” He stood up and made to cross the
room, kiss Stella goodbye, but she already dismissed him with a nod and flew
out of the door. As soon as the door closed, the twins began their riot of
energy. Niels deliberately and noisily made his way up the stairs and he heard
a gaggle of
shhh
s and
dad’s coming
.

Leaning in on the doorway of his son’s bedroom,
Niels cleared his throat. “I believe there are two gentlemen turning seven years
old today.”

Danny popped his head from under the wood slat of
his bunk bed. “Gentlemen?”

“I refer to a Daniel Strøm? And a William Strøm?
Have you heard of those two gentlemen?”

Will giggled. “We’re not gentlemen!”

Niels crouched down and pulled Danny from under the
bed by his arms, then caught Will by his ankles to do the same. Standing them
side by side, Niels wondered where the time had gone. It seemed moments ago
they’d been eighteen months old and mimicking each other with “I dunno!” A
blink of an eye would pass, and they’d be eighteen years old. Asking for money
and to borrow his car. Good lord, the horror.

“Happy birthday, my beautiful, brilliant gentlemen.
May you eventually find wisdom in silence and calm, and may you never lose your
joy for laughter and for fun.”

Danny and Will looked at each other in confusion.
Niels sighed. “You say
thank you, Daddy
, and you give me a hug.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” they chorused and both threw
their arms around his neck. Love overwhelmed him and he held them tighter to
him. He had to do everything possible to keep them safe. To keep them secure.
That was
everything
.

“Now, your friends are coming along very soon,”
Niels said, his voice cracking with emotion. “I need you to get washed and
dressed. What are you wearing?”

“Don’t you mean what will Muma let us wear?” Will
said solemnly.

“It’s your birthday. You wear what you want today.”

“Pirates!” they claimed. How in unison they were.
All they seemed to do was share a glance or touch the other and they knew what
the other wanted immediately. A brighter, deeper version of the connection he
used to enjoy with his wife.

“You go and get washed, and I’ll even do the
eyeliner for you.”

By the time Stella returned, Niels had filled
thirty party bags, laid out the sandwiches, fired up the grill for the barbecue
and marinated the meat. The boys were playing Jack Sparrow and Blackbeard,
complete with black eyeliner and fake beards. Stella looked from the boys to
Niels and groaned, “How am I going to get that crap off tonight?”

“How about you don’t worry about it, and you
relax?” he suggested lightly.

“I can’t, I’ve got…”

“What? The cake is done, the bouncy castle
guys
are ten minutes away now, I’m ready to grill, we have all the plastic cutlery
possible. Your children are dressed and ready to meet their guests. What else
do you need to do?”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Well, when you put it like
that. Well done.”

“Here to serve, ma’am,” he mocked.

She put a hand on her hip. “What? What’s that for?”

“Not to worry, my dearest wife.” He returned to
mixing a large salad for the barbecue. “Return to your list of to-dos.”

“Well, since you’ve done all of them, you smart
bugger, I’ll sit down and have a glass of rose lemonade.”

She patted him on the shoulder as she passed him
and poured herself a drink. Niels tapped his fingers on the marble top,
searching for patience. “Thank you wouldn’t go amiss.”

“For doing what you’re supposed to?” Stella asked,
eyebrows raised. “They’re your children, too. Welcome to parenthood. A
thankless job.”

“Yes, you’re not going to get a thank-you from
present-obsessed seven-year-olds. But you are an adult. It’s not a phrase that
should be beyond your vast capabilities.”

Her mouth worked for a moment. “Why are you trying
to start an argument?”

God’s sake
. “Forget it.” Out of the corner of his eye, as he
viciously chopped cucumbers, he saw her reach out toward him. Thankfully, the
doorbell rang, and they neatly sidestepped what would have been a minor war.

The rest of the party played out like a perfect
film. Guests complimented Stella and Niels on their home, their hospitality,
and moreover, their children. Stella took the compliments with a serene smile
that had been noticeably absent for a long time.

Niels felt surreal. How this happened at all, felt
beyond his understanding, his expectation. At one point, he sat in the bedroom
for five minutes of peace, only for some children to barge in and demand the
bathroom. He led them to it and back downstairs where another toilet was
situated for their use. No peace. Not a moment to relax and enjoy the looks of
excitement and gratitude on his son’s faces when they opened their multitude of
gifts. No swift, illicit kiss of appreciation and love from his wife. Only
sighs that spelled her exasperation and impatience.

By the end of the party, there was little cleaning
to do, as Niels had kept himself busy by cleaning as he went. As promised, he
carefully removed the eyeliner from each child, cleaned their teeth and put
them to bed. Despite the enormous amounts of sugar they had both consumed, Will
and Danny obliged him by falling straight to sleep. Stella locked up the house
and breezed a goodnight. He showered in contemplation. When he slid into bed,
Stella had on an eye mask and an awful patterned pyjama set.

“Was there something I didn’t do today?” he asked,
bruised and irritated by her dismissal. They still shared a bed; the least she
could do was face him.