Tainted Love (Sweetest Taboo #2) (3 page)

BOOK: Tainted Love (Sweetest Taboo #2)
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The next morning, I’d woken up with a few of those lingering doubts, unable to push them to the back of my mind. The doubts had been morphing and increasing since then. I had failed to forget all about Christine, though Tom might have. I could feel my heart trying to isolate itself and my mind making the attempt to re-build walls. My thoughts had become so suspicious about Tom’s life in the last year that my mind constantly doubted, questioned and was now resistant to trusting him altogether.

Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted when I heard Tom’s voice in the bathroom. Surely he wasn’t talking to me, as I could barely make out the muffled sound of a hushed conversation. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard him talking in the bathroom, and I’d seen him carry his phone in there a few times in the last couple of days. Who exactly was he talking to and why did it have to be in the bathroom, with the door shut? Surely he wasn’t talking while he was using the toilet, or in the shower! Did he not want to use his phone in front of me? Why not? What was he afraid of, exactly? What could Tom be hiding from me?

After a moment, I realized that he had the door completely closed this time. I could hear that he was still speaking, but couldn’t make out the words. His voice was a soft, a monotonous hum, devoid of any expression. He was obviously trying to keep quiet; if I listened close enough I could almost decipher a slight tone of affection in his voice. Maybe it was just his daughter on the line, I thought, or maybe he was just being considerate and keeping his voice low, almost silent so he wouldn’t wake me. Yes, that must be it.

Desperate to know what he was saying and to know who he was talking to, I rolled over and crawled quietly out of bed, creeping toward the bathroom. I stayed close to the walls to avoid squeaking boards. My bare feet sank into the thick, soft carpeting, while I moved soundlessly toward the bathroom. When I finally made it next to the bathroom door I stood silently against the cool wall, holding my breath. In an effort to keep my shadow at bay, I straightened and pressed my back against the wall, standing next to the hinges of the bathroom door. The window next to me was open and a cool morning breeze tickled my legs and blew the hem of my nightie to and from. I quickly pressed the hem against my bare legs, afraid that my swaying nighty might result in a moving shadow that would catch Tom’s attention.

“You know it won’t be for long,” Tom was saying, his voice low and urgent. “This is just how it has to be right now.” He paused; evidently listening to the person on the other end of the line, then spoke again. “Now you know that’s not true, and I wish you’d stop saying it. I’ll be home in a week, and then we’ll talk about it. How does that sound?”

I bit the inside of my cheek nervously, drawing blood. As a coppery metallic taste filled my mouth, my pulse quickened. I’d heard Tom having heart-to-heart conversations like that before. At one time the person on the other end of the line had been his wife, but then it had also been me at one point when he had been away on vacation with his family. He’d been apologizing to me for being gone for so long while promising to make it up to me when he returned.

Who was on the phone now, and what was he promising her? Was this what I’d set myself up for, more heartbreak for falling back in love with him so easily? All of the sudden, the suspicion I’d experienced over the last year emerged as I began to wonder what I had been thinking, taking him at his word.

Suddenly I heard the phone snap shut in the bathroom, and Tom’s footsteps walking toward the door. I quickly turned and sprinted back toward the bed and jumped in, terrified that he’d find out I had been listening to his conversation all this time. I couldn’t imagine a more horrible situation – him in the bathroom, on the phone with his mistress or me getting caught with my ear pressed to the door listening in. I wasn’t happy with what I’d heard, but I certainly didn’t want to discuss it with him here and now! I quickly pulled the warm goose down comforter up to my shoulders as I heard the bathroom door open. My eyes slammed shut and I focused on making my breath slow and even, pretending to still be asleep.

After a moment of tense silence, I felt his caress on my bare shoulder.

“Hun,” he murmured, bending down to brush his cheek along my jawbone. “It’s time to get up. We have big plans today, remember?”

I groaned inwardly, pretending to fight off sleep. He was right. We had agreed to go on a tour of several local wineries with another couple staying at the bed and breakfast. It had sounded like a good idea at the time, but now I wasn’t so sure. After what I’d just heard, all I wanted to do was to start investigating and find out exactly what Tom was up to. Spending the day with him, in an atmosphere that promised to be romantic and in the company of another love-struck couple, sounded like pure torture. I was never very good at hiding my emotions, especially when it came to Tom, and I wasn’t sure I could pull off the entire day without an argument or at least an attempt at what could be perceived as an innocent inquiry.

I took a deep breath, though, and pretended to wake up. I had agreed to go to the wineries, after all, and maybe it would be a good opportunity for me to play along and try to do some fact finding during the trip. I was hoping to God that there was a good explanation for what Tom had said to the other person on the line; I was hoping it was innocent. Maybe he was talking to his daughter, after all? He hadn’t said anything very romantic, my rational mind tried convincing me, so why was I so quick to jump to conclusions? I wanted to believe – or at least my heart did – that he really did love me, that we were really meant to be together, and that I was the only girl he has ever truly loved. I wanted to believe that he’d been loyal to me all along, in spite of the fact that I broke things off with him. I wanted to believe that he’d actually left his wife because he hoped I’d return to him some day. Although my mind had many, many questions, my heart was steadfast and I held on to the belief that fate, destiny, kismet, or whatever you want to call it, was in charge of our future. In spite of the doubts in my mind, my heart was convinced that Tom and I were meant to be, that he loved me and only me, and that he had remained faithful throughout simply because he couldn’t imagine being with anyone else. Was I being far too naïve, or was I being too hard on him? Was my mind really allowing my heart to take over so easily?

Still, my mind was racing with uncertainties and distrust. Things weren’t exactly turning out the way I had hoped.

Chapter Two - Linger

 

A
s I dressed, I tried to get my thoughts under control. There were a million possible reasons as to why Tom would take his phone into the bathroom to talk. After all, he had thought that I was asleep at the time – he probably didn’t want to wake me. Tom was a very thoughtful and courteous person, so naturally he would take a call somewhere where my slumber would not be disturbed. Besides, I took my phone into the bathroom when I was back in my apartment in DC all of the time. Granted, it was always so I could get some privacy (my roommates were really nosy). Maybe Tom just didn’t like people listening in on his conversations? Throughout our secret affair in high school I had never seen him take a call when we were together, but then again, cell phone technology was rather new and I’d never seen him with a cell phone until now.

I gazed at myself in the mirror, trying to decide whether I actually believed in him or not. The girl looking back only vaguely resembled the teen I’d once been. I had lost the roundness in my face, and had higher cheekbones than I’d thought possible when I was fifteen. I looked far more serious now, like someone who belonged in a library or an art gallery pondering the inspiration of artists, rather than giggling about things with my friends in a swimming pool. My body had lengthened too, now my curves were less obvious, and I looked more adult. I was almost as tall as Tom, though that had happened by the time I was seventeen, and my hair had grown longer. My behavior and thought process was certainly more rational now, and I felt far more mature than that fifteen year old he’d once seduced years ago.

You seduced him, actually, my conscience reminded me, as I smirked coyly at my reflection, feeling no guilt or shame. That was true – I’d started the relationship through sheer will power, and had only myself to blame. I’d never regretted it, though. Tom was never to blame, and after all, he was the love of my life and even though I tried to forget him and move on when I went to college, it just proved too difficult to do.

Suddenly the man in question appeared in the mirror behind me, raising his eyebrows in question. “Why are you grinning at yourself in the mirror?” he asked, poking at me playfully. “Trying to charm yourself? Or have you been thinking about something naughty?”

I moved away from his playful poking, laughing. “Nothing of the sort! I was just remembering my sophomore year, when I was just getting to know you. You remember, when I was still young, and impressionable.” I lifted my eyebrows, implying that he’d taken advantage of me, and he laughed loudly, a laugh that communicated two words to me, “yeah right!”

“Put your shoes on, woman, and let’s go have some breakfast. I’m starving, and we need food before we guzzle down some wine! Besides, we have things to talk about, and staying in this room does not lend itself well to talking!”

We walked out of the room, laughing in sync, as I put my uneasiness behind me. When we were laughing like this, and talking rather than thinking, it was easy to feel as though everything was fine. Just as in the past, I still felt completely comfortable with Tom, and found it easier to be myself with him than with almost anyone else. I never felt like he was judging me or wondering what I was actually thinking, and that made it easier to be honest and open with him. I still hadn’t found anyone else who made me feel quite this good and free. In fact, since leaving high school I had yet to actually date the way other freshman girls do when they are away from their parents for the first time. My roommates were on dates with different guys weekly it seemed. As for me, I didn’t really like to date and made no efforts to go out, probably because I had still been in love with Tom. The memories of Tom, of the way he always made me feel, those memories and emotions kept me from moving on completely. The fact was that Tom and I got along really well, we enjoyed spending time together, we talked, we laughed, we could be silly, but we could also be open and have meaningful discussions about so many things. When I was with Tom it was easy to forget everything else. It was easy to forget the rumors, the suspicions, the jealousies…

He continued to tease me through breakfast, which we enjoyed in the charming Mediterranean-style dining room at the B&B. I had scrambled eggs and bacon, my favorite, and was just scooping up the first bite when Tom started probing.

“So you’ve been studying your English lit, I see,” he said seriously, referring to the stack of books I’d brought with me to read over the summer. “Forgetting all about painting, are we?”

I laughed, with my fork mid-way to my mouth. “I never had a passion for painting, actually,” I said casually, glancing at him through my batting eyelashes. “I don’t have much talent in that arena, to be honest. Words appeal to me more. I only took art in high school for elective credit.” I shrugged, as if it didn’t mean a thing to me, as he snorted in response.

“And you have an internship lined up for the latter part of the summer?” he continued, growing more serious. “Tell me about it.”

I sighed. The internship was the last thing I wanted to talk about right now, and I’d already told him some of the details earlier. Still, we’d spent a year apart and were still playing Q&A trying to catch up on all that had transpired. The internship was a big deal for me because not everyone was able to land a internship like that after their freshman year, but I was committed to being as successful as possible in college. I was heading back to DC, I told him, for a summer program at a publishing company. I wasn’t certain what I wanted to do with my life just yet, it was still early and I had another year of general education classes to complete, but I thought I might like to get into books and editing, and an internship was the best way to get real-world exposure to the industry. I had worked hard throughout the year at a local independent bookstore near campus, building up my resume, and making sure that my grades were top-notch. I had submitted my application for the internship, and then held my breath until I received the response letter a few weeks later. To my absolute joy, I was selected, and the publishing house had even sent a catalogue of their titles, along with lists and lists of things I would be working on for the duration of the six-week internship.

If I played my cards right, I thought, I would be able to leverage that one internship into another for the next summer, and another after that. I might even have a career waiting for me when I graduated from college, if I decided that was what I wanted to do. I’d been dreaming of that kind of opportunity for a year, and now it was right in front of me.

I was busy listing the duties I would be responsible for while working at the publishing house, my tone excited, eyes expressive. While prattling on, I glanced at Tom, and saw he was absolutely beaming.

“I’m so proud of you, Isabel,” he said softly, a look of adoration in his eyes. “I always knew you were special, but that’s an amazing opportunity for you, to be in DC and work at a publishing house.” He reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently. “Have I told you how much I missed you? It’s been terrible here without you, like there was no meaning to my life. I felt as though there was nothing to live for, no one to share my life with. Do you know how rare it is to meet someone you instantly click with who has a mind like yours? To be able to sit and discuss anything, and know that the other person actually enjoys it as much as you do.” He paused, swallowing heavily, and I felt the tears spring to my eyes. He’d told me that he missed me, but I hadn’t seen this level of emotion from him. He looked haunted, suddenly, as if he had spent the previous year living an invisible existence. I squeezed his hand back, already regretting my suspicions of that morning. This wasn’t a man who would hurt me. This was a man who had missed me so intensely that he’d almost stopped living himself. This tad-bit of knowledge only served to make me feel even guiltier about the way I treated him when I left.

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