Leaving Amy (Amy #2) (19 page)

“Wesley, I wanted you to be more romantic. You not once have sent me flowers. You not once have cooked for me, surprised me with anything like jewelry.”

“Jewelry? You don’t even wear jewelry, Amy.”

“That’s because you don’t get me any.” I heard my voice raise and looked down to control myself.

“Did you get what’s-her-name any jewelry?”

He shielded his eyes and rested his elbow on the table.

“Don’t go there.”

Answer received. That jerk.

“What was it like with her? Better yet, how long were you with her while you were with me?”

“We can’t do this and have it pollute our relationship. This is a new start, remember? Let’s focus on us.”

“Pollute? It’s been polluted, Wesley. I’m just clearing the drain and getting some of this crap out of here.” My head throbbed. “Did you get her any jewelry?”

“Yes, Amy. I got her a pair of earrings. Are you satisfied?”

That hurt. I’ll admit it. My leg stopped shaking and the blood flow in my body felt as though it were clotting.
This was not going to work. What was I thinking?

Then it was as if God heard the door shutting to this reunion, and he put a foot in before it slammed shut, just wide enough to let Jeff and Margaret walk through.

“Look who’s here, Jeff.”

Margaret waved over her husband. She was pretty, dressed in a rose-colored suit. Worry rested on her face, but her smile was trying to cover up for it.

“Wesley.” Jeff put out his hand for Wesley to shake.

“I’ve got a line on an intensive course that assures you you’ll pass the bar. I’ll make sure Veronica brings you up to speed on it tomorrow. The company will spring for it, obviously. It’s a couple days’ stay in Vancouver, but it’s well worth it.”

Wesley rose from his chair and listened to Jeff intently. He seemed committed to this mission of taking over for our dear friend’s plight.

“And Amy,” Margaret said, beaming her eyes on me. “Stop by the office, if you can, this week. I need to go over some things with you. Marsha, my assistant, will be at your disposal in my absence, but I want to brief you on a few things.”

“Okay.” I cringed inside. The last time I went to that office, Mom was running things. I wasn’t looking forward to the memories.

“Well, Margaret, let us go so they can finish their dinner.”

Jeff led his wife away and Wesley took his seat. I made myself busy by cutting my chicken and organizing my rice into rows.

“Amy, I’m sorry I hurt you.”

I looked up. Wesley hadn’t even taken his first bite.

“That’s okay, Wesley.”

“No, it isn’t. I’m sorry for not being the husband I should’ve been; I’m sorry for cheating on you; and I’m sorry for hurting you tonight.”

He reached for my hand. I hesitated before surrendering it to him, and then I thought about the tender last moments Jeff and Margaret had left together.
Why was I being so petty?

“I vow to you right now that I will do everything in my power to make it up to you.”

I didn’t doubt his sincerity—just his ability to make that vow happen.

“Let’s just take it slow. I don’t want to have any false expectations of this. If we want this to work, we have to be prepared to put forth the effort.”

“You have my complete devotion.” His eyes never left mine. Which was surprising when I knew he could smell the steak that waited for the plunge of his knife on his plate.

Ahhhh
…
It was such a blessing no one could hear the other’s thoughts. At this point, I felt like an on-off switch. Maybe it could work…maybe there was no chance in the world it could. Still, all I could see in my mind when the pendulum swayed to the negative side was Margaret and Jeff. The hurt and uncertainty in her eyes, and the complete loss in his. Wesley and I were someone they were depending on. I took that very seriously.

“Well, I parked over there.” I pointed and pulled my coat closed. It was dark and the earlier breeze had transformed into gusty winds.

“I’ll walk you to your car and make sure you get there safely.”

I began breathing like a woman about to give birth.
Did he expect a good-night kiss? Wasn
’
t I thrilled about that?
He did look and smell great tonight. And after the horrible start to our date, it did get better. He flirted with me and even kissed my hand when we got up from the table to leave. Who was I kidding? I would always be attracted to Wesley. Who wouldn’t be? He was gorgeous. And that smile? It got him many things in the past. Evidently a mistress, too.
Stop that, Amy! New beginnings.

“Well—”

I didn’t have time to get it out. Wesley grabbed and kissed me like one of those movie scenes. Right before doing something very X-rated. Before I knew it, he was inside my mouth, moving around like a professional hitman, hitting the target. My arms became pinned against his chest. Then I felt his hand on my butt, drawing me closer…until I felt something rather odd. My eyes flew open. He continued consuming me like a piece of tiramisu. It came to mind because I’d wanted to order some after dinner, but didn’t.

Finally, I needed air…and my tongue back. He’d taken both. I withdrew before someone passing by threw a sheet on us.

“Wesley,” I said, barely breathing. My chin was on fire from his five o’clock shadow.

His eyes opened lazily, as if coming out of a stupor. “Amy, I’ve wanted to do that since I went to your apartment that day.” A smile spread on his face from ear to ear like the Grinch before he stole all the presents in Whoville. “And it was better than I imagined.”

I swallowed hard. The kiss had raised the hair on the back of my neck. I wasn’t sure whether it was the endorphins from being fondled, or the fact it was Wesley who was kissing me as though he’d never done it before. I needed the space of my car and a few miles of distance from him to figure it out. So much had happened to me this week. I didn’t want to do something reckless that I’d regret later. And handing over cognitive thinking to my libido was not up for discussion.

“I need to go.”

“Amy, come home with me.”

All right, that look he gave me was not good—his gluey eyes begging; all the while, he played with the buttons on my jacket. I could easily see myself slipping back into those shoes, again. You know, the ones I kicked off when I realized I was trapped inside them? But, I was married to this guy. Certainly there were all kinds of physical attraction to re-visit. Knowing exactly how he felt underneath the sheets, and remembering the noises he made. But it came attached to “cheater,” “jewelry-giver,” and “failure.” I needed to tap into my brain and tell my loins to get a cold shower until I could think clearly.

Looking into his love-drunk eyes was not helping, but I fought through it. “Wesley, I’ll call you later. I can’t do this tonight.”

He cupped the back of my neck and drew me in for another kiss. His tongue was warm and inviting. All I had to do was say yes.

He backed up and adjusted himself. I held onto my car for balance.

I watched him walk away.
Why did relationships have to be so hard to figure out?
Our date started out as a re-run of our lifeless marriage of four years, from knowing exactly what he’d say, to this. This. What
did
just happen? You get shot, you fall down, right? You get fondled, you feel frisky. So why did his kiss feel dirty with a hint of a tonsillectomy and Tom’s kiss feel like a sudden spurt of electricity with a sweetness behind it?

I found some tissues in my glove box and wiped my face before I went inside the house. I could only imagine the lipstick I put on after dinner was smeared from my nose to my chin. It was after nine o’clock; Tom was no doubt waiting up for me. I just needed to get past him without him being able to study my eyes. There was no escaping the truth with him. He could read through me like Saran Wrap. There certainly was nothing I could use to wipe away the truth inside my heart. It shined out of my eyes like the beacon of a lighthouse.

I didn’t hear anything at first. I slipped my shoes off and tossed them in the corner before tiptoeing up the stairs. I stopped when I heard my name being called.

“Amy, I thought that was you.”

I slowly turned around and didn’t expect to see what I did. A woman stood beside him.

“Hello.” I had that classic hand stuck in the candy jar look.

“Hi, I’m Kate Harris. You must be Amy. Tom’s told me very little about you.” She looked over at him when she said it.

Kate was beautiful. Her hair was dark and shiny, as if it could model for a shampoo commercial. You know, the ones claiming to keep the frizz out but rarely ever work on your own head no matter how much you strum it like the girl on the television does. Her cheekbones were round like apples and she had the type of smile that told you she was sincere, and angelic—halo and all. She wore a very sensible top and cardigan to boot. My type of fashionista.

I came back down the five stairs I’d managed to climb. “Hi, Kate. It’s so good to meet you.”

I could feel Tom stare at me. So I ignored him.

“Amy, are you all right?” he asked in a serious tone.

“Yes,” I said, focusing on Kate. “So did you two have dinner?”

“Not actually. I kind of crashed Tom’s evening.” She looked at him again, adoringly.
The sap was running strong.
“I remember him saying how much he liked apple pie and I made one today. So I called him up and asked if I could bring it over.”

I glanced at him. He was zeroed in on me. I felt the cross hairs bearing weight on me. “Isn’t that the nicest, Tom?”

“Yes, it is. And it was great. I left some for you in the kitchen.” He motioned down the hall.

I looked at Kate.
Did this make her wonder at all? My relationship with him and why I was living here?
Because it sure did make me question it.

“Thanks. I’m completely stuffed, but I’ll try it tomorrow.” I patted my stomach. “Please excuse me while I go and turn in. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

“Tom tells me you work in the county’s administrative office. I believe the judicial department?”

I held onto the banister, trying to give the illusion I was leaving. “Yes, I’ve been a clerk there for five years.”

“Isn’t that amazing!” She tucked her hands in her pockets. “I work in the zoning department. I bet we’ve passed each other in the halls.”

“That is amazing.” I nodded my head, wondering how to end this enlightening conversation and run away to my bed, where I’d scream into my pillow.

“Well, anyway. I’ll let you get to bed. I’ve got to be leaving too.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” Tom said.

I smiled and waved, and then two-stepped the stairs until I sprinted the rest of the way to my room. I locked the door and leaned against it. Suddenly Chicago and living with Mark sounded like a cakewalk compared to this mess. At least the only problem there was living among strangers, in a strange place, never seeing him, and never passing from live-in girlfriend to anything more serious. Yeah, that would’ve been easier.

I undressed and got into my gown. There was no desire to even wash off my makeup. The sooner I became unconscious the better. I was about to get into bed when I heard the knock on the door. I stopped breathing. As if he could sense the oxygen levels from the other side of the door. I didn’t say anything. He knocked only one more time before I heard his footsteps disappear. It would’ve been so much easier if Kate looked like a prostitute, Wesley scratched himself through dinner and belched between courses, and I didn’t know how Tom felt about me. Or that Tom became Wesley or vice versa. Who was I kidding; that wasn’t going to happen.

There was no sense in believing I could avoid Tom. Either it was now or when I got home after work that I’d have to tell him about my evening with Wesley. Might as well not dread it for the entire day. I strolled into the kitchen like any other day, when I didn’t get home late and look as though I’d swallowed the canary on my way here.

“You seemed like something was wrong last night.” He poured coffee into his mug.