The Ground Rules: Undone (19 page)

I hear soft laughter at the other end of the line. “It was. It was amazing.”

“You came out of nowhere,” I tell him, remembering that night so long ago. “One second, I was here, and the next, I was gone…caught up in you. Absolutely wrecked.”

“Wrecked?”

“Yes, absolutely wrecked.”

“You have it all wrong, Mirella,” he says, his voice quiet. “
You
are the one who has wrecked
me
.”

I close my eyes, my heart caught up in his words. I don’t want to do this right now. I don’t want to go deep into this. I just want to talk to my friend.

“There’s a French song in the mix,” I point out. “You know I don’t understand French, right?” I’m teasing. I hope he can tell by the tone of my voice.

“It’s beautiful. It’s by this French-Canadian songstress who has the voice of an angel.”

“What is it about?”

There’s another silence. And I try to remember the song. I listened to the beautiful melody but couldn’t understand a word.

“It’s about a woman who is passionately loved by two men,” he finally manages. My breath catches, his words replaying in my mind. “I thought it was fitting,” he says quietly.

I find myself without words. Another silence divides us. The air seems so charged. And neither of us seems to be able to utter a single syllable.

My voice trembles as I finally venture, “Does she love them both?”

He clears his throat and after a long pause, he says quietly, “I believe so.”

He knows I love him. He knows it despite the fact that I haven’t told him since that night so long ago, in the canopy bed under the stars. And he knows I love Gabe too.

“She does,” I whisper.

Another dreadful silence. I can almost hear the pounding of my heart in my ears. I want him to say something. “What a mess she must be in,” I finally manage, a poor attempt at humor.

“Yes, I can only imagine.”

Yes, I’m in a horrible mess
, I want to scream. I feel the heaviness consume me and I want to tell him how I cry myself to sleep every night, how I can barely eat a thing, how I can’t find the strength to take my daughters to the park on some days.

Almost as if he can read my mind, he asks, “How are you, really? Please tell me the truth.”

The lump in my throat grows thicker and I can’t hold in the tears anymore. “I’m in shambles,” I cry. “And I deserve it, every miserable second of it.”

“No, you don’t. Listen to me, Mirella. You don’t deserve misery. I wish–”

“I do. I’ve committed one of the seven deadly sins,” I point out. “I’ve craved you. I’ve lusted for you. This is why I’m in this mess.”

“No,” he says, and I can hear the raised pitch of his voice. “Think about it…God’s invention, it’s genius. How else to ensure the propagation of human kind? Lust is what that is.”

I don’t say a word as he goes on.

“The man sees the woman and desires her, wants to touch her, taste her, get as close to her as he possibly can,” he says. “And it’s not just in his mind, it’s his body too. His heart beats faster, his skin flushes, the blood courses through him, he hardens for her. He craves her. She becomes a physiological need.”

A wave of desire washes over me as I listen to his words. His voice is so soft. I want him to stop talking now. But he’s not quite done.

“And the woman has the same reactions. She wants to taste and touch, and be touched by him, be explored to the depths. Her heart beats too and her body readies for him, becomes hot, wet, pliable.”

I don’t think he’s purposely trying to arouse me, but
hell
…

“Weston…”

“Think about it,” he goes on. “Take a small boy building a car, would he fault his creation for rolling when he pushed it? When he built it to do just that?”

I decide to play the devil’s advocate. “So you’re saying God wanted us to all run around and go at it like wild animals?”

“Well, no, but I’m saying I don’t think monogamy is quite—”

“Of course, someone who leads a poly-amorous lifestyle wouldn’t think monogamy is a natural state.”

I’m not sure how this conversation has managed to turn into a fight, but it sure did. My heart is beating hard, and my breathing is ragged. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m angry or aroused.

“Monogamy becomes a natural state when one finds the person he or she is meant to be with,” he says matter-of-factly. “That’s what I truly think.”

“Then by that argument, Bridget and Gabe are not the ones we are meant to be with.”

“I didn’t say that.”

I can see this conversation going in a direction I don’t want it to go. I can’t do this today. I don’t have the strength.

“I’m sorry, Weston. I should probably go now. Thanks for the CD.”

“But Mirella.”

“I’m sorry,” I say one last time before I press ‘end call’. I can tell myself a lot of things, but I can’t tell myself God wanted this for me.

I run up the stairs, my cell still in hand. I play the CD again, from the beginning, and fall in a heap on the purple bed. He calls me again but I let it go to my voicemail. I can’t talk to him…shouldn’t talk to him.

The first song starts, its sweet melody fills the whimsical room. The pressure in me eases. My phone rings again and I put it on vibrate.

I think about Weston’s words. It’s true, it does feel like it was beyond our control, this thing between us. It was so powerful, so sudden. I didn’t understand it. I certainly didn’t want it. I’ve read about it in books, seen it in movies, but I never thought it would happen to me — pure, unbridled lust.

A long time ago, my mother told me something. I didn’t quite understand it at the time. But the moment stuck with me, deep under my skin. I remember it so clearly, like it was just yesterday.

“Like a puppet on a string,” she said as she applied a coat of poppy red lipstick, her gaze reflected in a small vanity mirror. “You have absolutely no control over your emotions or your actions for that matter. There’s a higher power making you do things you don’t want to do.”

I wondered what things she was speaking of.

She blotted her mouth on a tissue, the way she used to always do. “I’m telling you, Mirella, passion is a pretty scary thing. Makes you do crazy things.”

I was only six at the time, but for some reason, the words stayed with me. Over the years, I’ve thought about them a lot, trying to understand my mother, understand her actions, piece together her life, and understand why she left us.

The first time I met Weston I
almost
understood what she had been telling me.

The angelic voice fills the room, the words foreign to me. I want to know what she’s saying. I want to know her story. The melody is so beautiful. I almost get completely lost in it.

I get up from the bed, make my way downstairs, grab my iPad and Google the English lyrics of
Comme des enfants;
the song about the woman loved by two men.

As soon as the screen with the lyrics pops up, I hear the door. I drag myself to the front entry hall, wondering if Gabe is bringing the girls back earlier than planned. But then…

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I’m a part of him now.

M
y breath hitches when I see Weston standing there.

“I’m sorry we left off the way we did,” he tells me, his sleek European loafers scraping the stones of my walkway as he drags his foot back and forth.

“How did you get here so fast?” I ask, figuring it’s only been about thirty minutes since I hung up on him.

“I’ve been here this whole time,” he says, not quite looking at me. “I’ve been in my car, around the corner.”

I swallow hard. “You were there when you called me?”

He nods. “I like to park just over there,” he says, gesturing to the curve of the street, down our cozy cul-de-sac, “hoping to see you come out of your house, to catch a glimpse of you.”

I gulp, not quite knowing what to say. “That’s a little creepy, Weston.”

He smiles. “I know. I should stop. I think I’m starting to freak out your neighbors. They’ve been eyeing me suspiciously.”

I stare at him, slack-jawed. “Well, can you blame them?”

He looks off into the distance. He’s still standing there. I’ve yet to invite him in.

“I’ve told you, Mirella, I tend to obsess. I’m still completely infatuated with you.” he confesses. “But you know that already. I knew it was over between us, but now this baby changes things, I’d like to believe.”

“You can’t just stalk me like this, Weston.”

“I know…” he trails off, his beautiful eyes fixed on me. “Can I come in?”

I know this is not a terribly good idea, but as my mother said, “Passion makes you do crazy things.”

I take a step back, inviting him. I’m still not sure why he’s here. I don’t know what’s going to happen, what I’m doing, but the puppet master plays me masterfully.

My heart starts to beat fast as he closes the door behind him and I realize it’s just the two of us.

“Uh…come…in,” I stammer as I ask him, “Can I make you a cup of coffee?”

He tilts his head just ever so slightly, his gaze stuck to me. “No, Mirella. I don’t want a cup of coffee.”

My breathing is uneven, and I blow out a small breath, trying to steady it. “Are you sure?”

His gaze hasn’t left me. “Yes, Mirella. I’m positive.”

I start to feel faint, wanting to sit down, far away from him. “Why are you here?”

He pulls me to him with a soft touch of my wrist, closing the distance between us, “You know why.”

I feel a pressure build, deep below. “Weston…” He gets to me, despite the fact that I don’t want him to.
He’s
the puppeteer
.

He pulls me in. He makes me react.

With his words.

I lift a hand, take a step, and tilt my head.

“You’re the one, Mirella. You’re the one who is right for me. I don’t want anyone else.” A warmth washes over me as he trails his finger along my collarbone, tracing the neckline of my sheer blouse.

With his touch.

The sensation travels to the back of my neck, my skin drowning in tingles. I close my eyes. My body wants to go forward but my mind tells me to stop. I swallow, trying to build up some resolve. “I can’t do this,” I tell him. “I’m waiting for Gabe. I’m waiting for him to come back to me.”

I feel his body stiffen. “But will he?” he asks.

“I know he’s moved out, but he and I are still together as far as I’m concerned. We’re still married.”

“You and me, we have a child together now,” he says so softly, I barely hear him. “Perhaps you belong with me not with him.”

I shake my head. “I don’t believe that.”

He cups my face in his hands. “Believe it,” he says quietly.

What about Bridget? What about our children?

“But what about—”

He shuts me up with a kiss. A chaste kiss. His lips are soft, tender. I pull him tighter to me and deepen the kiss, wanting so desperately to be close to him. I feel the need for him deep within, from my lips, to my heart.

But I can’t do this anymore. I need to be stronger than this. His hands hold my face softly as his tongue teases mine. I suck on his bottom lip and let go reluctantly. I grab his hands in mine and pull myself free.

“We can’t, Weston. I can’t do this.”

He fixes me with dark eyes, his breathing ragged. “I know you want this. I can feel it in the heat of your skin. I can see it in the flush of your cheeks. I can hear in the ragged edges of your voice. I can almost taste it.”

I pull my gaze away from his. He’s breaking me again.

“Just say no,” he says. “Just say the word, and I’ll back away. I’ll leave you alone.”

I can’t say the word. I want him to stay.

He pulls my mouth to his again and the sweet taste of him almost brings me to the edge.

I think about Gabe again. I know I need to be strong, bold.

I push him off me, tearing myself away. “No,” I snap. “No. We can’t do this.” My whole body trembles as I tell him, “You’ve got to stop this. You know the power you have over me. You know I’m putty in your hands. And you take advantage of it. You play me. You manipulate me with your beautiful face and your beautiful words. I want you to leave right now.”

He swallows hard. “The last thing I want to do is play you, Mirella.”

“Go!” I scream.

“Mirella…”

“Please go.”

He stares down at the floor, at the strips of oak flooring beneath his feet and he doesn’t move or say anything for the longest time. He finally gazes up at me. He looks absolutely torn. He reaches for the door handle and looks at me one last time. “I may eventually let go if that’s what you wish, but I will
always
love you.”

The door closes behind him and I crumble to the floor in tears. Those last few words were said with such conviction, such emotion. I know he was speaking the truth…absolutely, unequivocally. He truly believes that he will
always
love me.

I’m a part of him now.

And he is a part of me.

Gabe brings the girls back at around eight o’clock. They’re full of smiles and riled up. I suspect there was a lot of sugar involved. Claire is clutching a stuffed giraffe and Chloe holds a white leopard.