Conflicted (23 page)

He turned to leave, glanced at his watch, and turned back to me. “Ms. Cleary, I need to meet with you over lunch in an hour.”

I nodded, and then he left. I mingled with a few of my coworkers who congratulated me, but my mind was on my lunch meeting with Cole. He’d said we would talk at the end of the day, so this had to be work-related, not personal.

The resident historian, Rebecca, took my photo to put in the next company newsletter.

And then it was all over.

I headed back to my desk ten grand richer. I didn’t really suppose it was going to make me work any harder since I already considered myself a hard worker, but I was definitely grateful for it.

I checked my messages, sent the email I’d drafted earlier that morning, and then headed to Cole’s office for lunch. I knocked on the door.

“Yes?” he called.

I pushed the door open. “You wanted to see me?”

“Close the door and sit,” he said. I did as he requested. He tapped a few more keys on his computer and then turned toward me.

He folded his hands in front of him before his eyes met mine. “I know I said we’d reconvene at the end of the day, but I can’t take the waiting. I hate this shit. This is why I don’t do relationships.”

“I’ve thought about what you said all morning.”

“And?”

“And one thing really stuck out to me.”

“What’s that?”

“You said I’ve been stringing you along, but there’s something you don’t know.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I told John last night. I told him everything before I came here to see you.”

His eyes lit up. “You did?”

I nodded. “I did. And then I walked in on you with some tramp.”

He averted his eyes to the window, his gaze falling over downtown Los Angeles. “I can’t change what happened.”

“No, you can’t. And I can’t, either.”

“So that’s it.” He stood and walked around his desk, leaning against it beside me. I knew he wanted me to stand and walk into his arms. “It’s over with John, and we can move forward.”

“It’s not that simple.”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Of course it is.”

I shook my head. “No, it’s not. John isn’t what I want, and you
are
what I want, but I can’t just jump from one man to the next.”

“So we’ll take our time.”

“No, Cole. You don’t get it.” I stood up and walked over to the window.

I was going to miss this view.

“Then explain it to me. Help me to understand.” His voice took on an edge of anxiety, and it shredded the remains of my already broken heart.

I turned back to Cole. “I need to be on my own. I can’t be in a relationship that started on a lie.”

“What we have didn’t start on a lie.” He was arguing, looking for a loophole. But my mind was made up.

“Well then it isn’t right for me to start something that could grow into something potentially very serious while I’m still married.”

“Then we wait. Divorces can’t take that long, can they?”

“Six months minimum in California.”

He glanced away from me, somehow sealing in my mind that I’d made the right decision. He digested the idea of waiting six months for me. He knew if he was going to do that, there’d be no more random blondes that he could screw in his desk chair. He’d be committed to a memory until I was free to be with him, and I was sure that wasn’t how he envisioned his future.

He drew in a long breath before looking at me again. “Lucy, what are you saying?”

“Mr. Benson, thank you for the opportunity to work with you. Thank you for the Assistant of the Year bonus. Thank you for giving me a chance with MTC, and thank you for trusting me with confidential files and trusted information.” His eyes grew wide with horror as I spoke. He knew where I was going with this, and my voice shook as I got to the words that I knew would break both of our hearts. “Thank you for everything. I quit.”

I turned and walked toward his door. I felt his eyes on me the entire way, but I couldn’t seem to stop my shaking legs from taking me to my desk, where I grabbed my purse out of my bottom drawer, logged off my computer for the last time, and headed toward the elevator.

CHAPTER THIRTY

I sat in my car with no real plan, staring at the steering wheel in a daze. I half expected Cole to come after me. I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to or if I just wanted him to leave me alone.

That’s a lie.

I wanted him to chase me down and fight for me. I wanted it with every fiber of my being.

But I knew he wouldn’t. He’d been pretty clear that morning. He was done playing games. I had no idea what sort of mess I’d left behind. He’d been honest with his feelings for me, and I’d still walked.

What was done was done. I’d acted impulsively for too long, and it was time to get a plan together and move on with my life.

The events of the past twelve hours hadn’t quite hit me yet, but I had a feeling that once they did, the emotions would be overwhelming.

I called Kaylee while I sat numbly in the parking lot.

“Hey, Luce.” Her voice was tired.

“You need some help with that little girl?” I asked, faking enthusiasm.

“Sure, I could use some help. Don’t you have to work?”

“It’s a long story.”

“Come on over.” I knew my sister. She’d never come out and ask for help directly. She’d only take it if it was offered. And I was out of a job and essentially homeless.

I was hoping she’d be interested in a mutually beneficial arrangement. Maybe she’d let me stay with them to help out with Madi while she focused on helping her husband on his road to recovery.

“I’ll be there in a couple of hours.”

I started the car and glanced up toward Cole’s office window. I couldn’t see in with the bright sunlight, but I imagined him standing in his window watching me. I imagined our eyes met for one last long glance, and I imagined the pain in his matching the pain in mine.

I tore my gaze from the window and touched my fingers to my lips. I imagined it meant I was giving him a secret kiss, and I closed my eyes for a brief moment before taking a deep breath and heading toward my apartment.

Once I got “home,” I packed my suitcase with as many clothes as I could fit. It was early-afternoon, so I had all the time I wanted, really—but I didn’t dawdle.

After I brought my clothes and bags to my car, I went back in to leave a note for John. Before I wrote the note, I looked around the apartment that I’d decorated with my husband. I took a moment in each room, allowing the memories to wash over me.

As much as I’d felt neglected recently—and for much of our marriage—it hadn’t always been that way. As I walked through the family room, I heard our shared laughter at our favorite sitcom. In the kitchen, I smelled John’s burnt toast the morning after we’d moved into this apartment. Down the hallway, I saw us making love up against the wall one night when we hadn’t made it to the bedroom—the night we’d gotten engaged.

When I walked into the office, though, I remembered sitting in the chair, cheating on my husband as I listened to the voice of another man guide me to climax.

When I walked into the bedroom, the memory that hit me was the night before.

This wasn’t how I ever imagined it.

I always thought marriage was once and forever, but that was before I married the wrong man.

Hindsight makes everything so much easier. It was easy to look back and say he’d been wrong for me, but I hadn’t seen the signs when we’d been dating. I hadn’t expected to one day wake up and realize that I didn’t love him anymore.

I hadn’t expected to fall so hard for another man.

And I never expected to fall into an affair.

It just wasn’t me. It wasn’t my character. It wasn’t what I knew and it wasn’t where I came from.

Yet I’d done it.

Everyone makes mistakes, but I couldn’t look at my time with Cole and call it a
mistake
. That would be a bigger lie than my “happy” marriage had been.

My real mistake had been marrying John. It had been staying with someone when I wasn’t happy because I was too complacent to do anything about it.

I walked back through the apartment, realizing that except for my clothes and a few pictures, there wasn’t really anything I wanted. Even the desk chair that I’d so desperately had to have just seemed tainted now.

I pulled the paper and pen from the drawer in the kitchen and started writing.

John,

I stopped by to get my clothes. If there’s anything here you want, you can have it. I’ll be back next week sometime to get the rest of my things. If there’s anything you don’t want me to take, just mark it.

I know you don’t want to talk to me, and I understand. I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry for the way things turned out. I’m sorry I wasn’t a better wife to you. You deserve better than me, and I hope you find it.

I’ll miss you.

Lucy

I read my note over before leaving it on the counter. I wanted to apologize for cheating on him, but it was a sticky situation.  I wasn’t sorry I slept with Cole, but I was sorry that John had gotten hurt because of it.

I drove to my sister’s house in complete silence. I was so lost in my thoughts that I hadn’t even realized I never turned on the radio.

Instead, I thought about all that had transpired over the past few weeks. I thought back to Cole’s first day as my boss, to our New York trip, to Cole’s softer side that emerged so rarely.

I thought about John and the good times we’d had once upon a time.

And I thought a lot about the future. I wasn’t sure where I was going or what I’d do, but I was sure that for the first time in a long time, I was free.

“What’s going on?” Kaylee asked when she opened the door.

I couldn’t help it. I burst into tears.

My sister limped toward me and did her best to pull me into a hug despite her broken ribs and arm. She gasped when she raised her arm.

“Stop,” I said through my tears. “I should be the one hugging you.”

“Whatever it is, it’ll be okay. If Kev and I could survive the accident, you can survive this.”

I nodded and forced a shaky breath. “You’re right.”

We walked into her house and she gingerly lay back on the couch while I collapsed dramatically in her overstuffed armchair.

“Talk to me, Luce.”

“I left John last night.”

She sat up and winced. “Oh my God. For your boss?”

I shook my head as tears filled my eyes again. “No. I left him, too. And I quit my job.”

“Holy shit!”

“I know. I’m homeless, jobless, and manless.”

“You’re not homeless. You’ll stay here with us.”

“I thought I could help out with Madi while you go back and forth to the hospital and while you get better yourself. I should’ve offered before all of this anyway.”

“Stop it. You have a life and I get it.”

“Kay, I’ll pay you rent. I’ll pay for my food. I just need a little time to figure this out.”

“You take as much time as you need. Don’t be ridiculous. You can stay as long as you want rent-free.” She smiled brightly, as if that would make it all better.

“Thank you.”

“If you can’t lean on family when you need them, who can you lean on?”

“How are you feeling?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Nice try. Talk to me. What happened?” I was quiet for a few seconds, trying to figure out where to even start. “Did you sleep with your boss?” she asked before I could form my words.

I nodded.

“Oh my word, this is juicy. Spill it. All of it. Now.”

I giggled. I couldn’t help it.

She rolled her eyes. “Look, I’m currently a housewife who is toting a child to school in between visits to the hospital. I need something spicy. My soaps and reality television just aren’t hitting the raunch factor like they used to.”

“Glad I can be of service,” I said dryly.

“You know what I mean. Now start at the beginning and leave nothing out.”

I started from the day I met Cole and ended with that morning, and she listened attentively and sympathetically.

I was so glad I’d turned to my sister. Anyone else would’ve given me exactly what I deserved, but not Kaylee. She didn’t judge me. She was on my side.

Despite my shortcomings and the complete disaster I’d made of my life, my sister was going to help me figure out where the hell I was supposed to go from here.

When Madi got home from school, she was thrilled that I was going to be staying with them for a while. I was more grateful than ever for a supportive and loving family.

Later that night after we tucked Madi into bed, I checked my personal email. I had a reply to the email I’d sent right before I quit.

Lucy,

Thanks for getting in touch. I’m so sorry about what happened. I can offer you a part-time, work from home position as a contractor. Is that something you’d be interested in? If you are, we can work out specifics in regard to your duties and pay. I know what an asset you were to Benson, and I’d prefer not to let you get away from MTC. Let’s talk soon.

L. Mathers

I read his reply twice before I believed the words. Lincoln was offering me a part-time position. It was more than I could’ve hoped for. I’d explained to him that I was quitting my job because of some personal issues but that I was invested in his company and I still wanted to work with him. I told him I wouldn’t be in or around the city but that I could do everything online.

The best-case scenario was him offering me a position to work from home—especially since I knew Cole would potentially show up at MTC’s offices. I didn’t want to risk running into him.

I’d half expected him to call by now, or maybe to send a text. To try to make some sort of contact with me. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed that he hadn’t fought for me, but it was a selfish and narcissistic thought. I’d been the one to walk out, and my actions had made it pretty clear that I wanted to be left alone.

So if I’d been the one to make this grand decision, why was I the one crying myself to sleep that night as I thought about Cole and all I’d lost in the past twenty-four hours?