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Dominic opened the door and flipped a light switch on in the foyer to illuminate the area. He smiled as he walked deeper into the house, and I followed him. We stopped in the kitchen. It was spotless, with thick white quartz counters, chrome appliances, and little signs on the walls that I was sure the buyer had gotten from Hobby Lobby. They were the cheesy kind—signs that said things like:
Rise & Shine It’s Coffee Time, Let’s Eat, and Yum.
He showed me the living room, which was set up beautifully with ivory furniture, a beige rug, and a wooden coffee table that I was sure cost a fortune. A wide flatscreen TV was mounted to the wall and on either side of the TV were shelves filled to the brim with books and trinkets. Dominic then showed me where the minibar was and prepared us drinks from it.
“Any requests?” he asked.
I shouldn’t have, but there was something about being in this house alone with him that pushed me into a dangerous zone. “Vodka,” I said.
He prepared it for me, and I guzzled some of it down.
“Wait until you see the master,” he murmured, and it was now that I realized how close he was as he stood in front of me. I could smell the bourbon on his breath, feel the heat of his body on mine. He escorted me upstairs with a gentle hand pressed to my lower back, and when we reached the landing, he stopped at double doors at the end of the hallway.
He pushed them open, and luxury screamed from every corner of the room. The bed was made with white sheets and a plush brown duvet. Behind the bed was an upholstered wall, bordered with iron designs on each side. I had the urge to lay on the bed, cozy up with the pillows. Off to the right was the master bathroom. One of the lights was on, revealing a rainfall shower, a clawfoot bathtub, and white marble.
“Is that drink okay?” Dominic asked, gesturing to my almost empty glass of vodka.
“Yeah, but I probably need some water right now,” I told him. I needed to sober up.
“You’ve got it.” Dominic left the room for only a moment and while he did, I sat in a single upholstered chair in the corner and started unstrapping my shoes. He returned with a glass in hand containing yellowish liquid, while I was halfway unstrapped.
“Hope you don’t mind. My feet are killing me.”
Dom laughed, turning to me with the drink in hand. “Make yourself as comfortable as you want.” He offered the glass to me and said, “Apple juice.”
I would’ve preferred water, but this would do.
“Here. Let me help you.” Dom set his drink down on the dresser and lowered to his knees. I couldn’t help smiling as he unstrapped the shoe I hadn’t gotten to, undid the buckle, and removed it, setting both shoes aside. Once done, he stood and collected his drink, taking a swig.
I sipped my apple juice, mildly annoyed by yet another sweet and fruity beverage, but it was better than taking in anymore alcohol. My eyes turned to Dominic, who was already looking at me. There was heat in his eyes, flaming with lust. He sipped his drink, and I did mine, but couldn’t help fidgeting.
“The Brynn I know didn’t waste time getting to the point,” he said with a hint of a smile. He moved in closer so that his groin was practically in my face. He was referring to high school Brynn, the one who didn’t know a damn thing about sex and didn’t care about the consequences.
I huffed a laugh. “Things change, I suppose.” And they had. Though I was having a great time, I wasn’t so quick to drop my panties for anyone, even if they were my ex. Plus something about this entire night niggled at the back of my mind. A warning was more of what it was. If I crossed into this forbidden territory for him, there wouldn’t be any going back. This was a married man, which meant I would never come first to him and that did not sit well with me.
He stood. “Perhaps some music.” He fished his phone out of his pocket and went to the stand near the TV, where a speaker was plugged in. Once he’d connected the Bluetooth, Ginuwine played, and I wanted to throw up—not because of Ginuwine’s voice, but because the nostalgia struck the hell out of me. My vision blurred a bit as Dominic snapped his fingers to the beat then spun around to face me. He took a swig of his bourbon, then undid the top button of his shirt. “You remember this song?” he asked, chuckling.
“Of course, I do.” I forced a laugh. “Differences” by Ginuwine. It was a song we played on repeat while acting like horny teenagers in my bedroom whenever my mom worked third shift.
I couldn’t believe he was playing it. He truly was treating this like some high school reunion. Like, okay, I get it. We were high school lovers and all, but let’s not make this childish.
He approached me, bringing me to a stand and collecting me in his arms. I tried smiling and enjoying the moment, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, and I was pretty sure that was my own fault. I’d allowed the niggling in the back of my mind to swim to the forefront.
I couldn’t stop thinking about his damn wife and ever since reading those messages and seeing her photo, I only felt regret. While he was sitting next to me in the lounge, flirting and being charming, she’d been texting him all night. He hadn’t responded to any of her messages, and I figured that was a courtesy to me. He was married, and his wife assumed he was happy. She had no idea he was showering another woman with drinks and attention . . . or that he was now alone in a house with said woman.
I realized in that short moment in the lounge—when he’d run off to the bathroom and I filled myself with dirty knowledge—that he’d likely done this before. Found a woman he was interested in while away from his wife, paid for drinks, then took her to his rental or hotel room. I instantly felt shame and then pitied myself for ever coming here to meet him. It didn’t matter that I was his high school love. To him, I was just another woman he could get lucky with.
At first, I didn’t care that he was married because the wife was unknown. I had this stupid notion in my mind that I was there first, so he’d choose me. He’d fall for me again and leave her, whisk me into his life, ease my troubles, and give me everything I ever wanted. It was such a stupid idea to have because he’d been married to this woman for years, while he’d only known me for two while we were young. Plus, the way you get a man is exactly how you lose him. I of all people should’ve known that.
It’s so much easier to detach yourself from anonymous things because they don’t mean shit to you, but because I saw his wife’s face, because I saw how happy she was with him, how excited she was for him to come home so she could share a simple dinner with him, and how she supported his career, I realized I couldn’t be that person who sabotaged their marriage. Because at the end of the day, all Dominic would do is throw me under the bus to save his ass if he got caught and, frankly, I was worth more than that.
We’d already taken things too far by meeting at the lounge and even further by venturing to this fancy house to be alone. I would be ruining someone’s life because of my selfish decision to ignore that wedding band on his finger. It was almost like he wanted me to know he was married—like he knew it would make me want him more. Most men hide their rings, but not Dominic, and I couldn’t help wondering why.
I knew what it was like for someone to be cheated on through my own mother. All my father did was lie and cheat. It drove her crazy. It made her thin, depressed, but she couldn’t do much about it because he paid the bills while he was around. He ran the show. But for some odd reason she was still surprised to know he was leaving her for another woman. As if she hadn’t seen it coming. As if she weren’t aware that he was a total piece of shit who had no respect for her.
I refused to be the other woman—the homewrecker, the destructor, the manipulator. Did I want out of this poor life of mine? Yes. Did I want more for myself? Absolutely. But this wasn’t the way to do it. It felt dirty and lousy and cheap, and you don’t think about the consequences until you’re forced to face them.
What my mother went through was literally enough to kill her. She drank herself to death, choked on her own vomit. I found her body when I visited from college for winter break, and the only reason I visited is because she wasn’t answering her phone. No one had heard from her, so I bought the cheapest plane ticket I could find on such short notice and flew back.
