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He peered at me quizzically for a minute, then looked me over before a hurt expression crossed his face.
“Is that what all of this has been about?” he asked with a wave of his hand. “The piercing, the hair, and now the tattoo … Are these all things you’ve wanted to do, but somehow thought that I wouldn’t allow you to do?”
I cleared my throat, uncomfortable, and for some reason suddenly feeling guilty.
“Um … I don’t know, I guess,” I stammered. “I’ve always wanted to do these things, but I didn’t think you’d like it, so I never did.”
“Jesus,” Cal exclaimed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I want you to do what you want to do … I always have. If you want to tattoo your entire body, shave your head, and dye yourself blue … go for it. I’m not your ruler, Shelly, and I can’t believe that you’ve ever thought that I would dictate what you could or couldn’t do.”
“It’s not like that …” I said, trying to explain, but the hurt radiating off of Cal was palpable, and it suddenly didn’t seem like anything I’d say would help.
“It sure as hell seems like that, doesn’t it. Is that what you think of me, of the last six years of our relationship?” Cal took a step closer to me, his voice low so as not to broadcast our fight to the entire restaurant. “No wonder you’re so quick to give up … I thought we were in a partnership, Shel. I’ve never expected you to ask my permission to do anything. I love you, for who you are, and I want you to do what makes you happy.”
My heart pounded loudly in my chest, and I felt a mixture of regret and fear running through me.
“Cal, you’re taking this the wrong way. Yes, I’ve always wanted to do the things I’m doing now, and I didn’t because I didn’t think you’d like it.” His eyes narrowed at that, and I rushed on, hoping to make him understand. “Not because you wanted to dictate what I did or didn’t do, but because you liked me so much the way I was that I didn’t want to change anything. I wanted you to find me attractive …”
Cal’s face smoothed out at my words, and when I was finished, he stepped even closer. Close enough that I could smell the mixture of sweat and grease on his body, and see his chocolate eyes darken as he said, “Never doubt how attractive I find you, Shelly. You were hot as hell before, and you’re hot as hell now. There isn’t anything that you could do to your appearance to make me not want you. I want you every minute of every day, Shelly. I promise you that.”
“Cal, your order’s ready,” the guy behind the counter shouted out suddenly, causing me to jump.
My heart was beating rapidly and my breath was shallow. When he turned to grab his order, I stood there for a moment, trying to gain my bearings.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Cal said as he moved passed me toward the door.
“Cal,” I said quickly.
He turned and waited for me to say what I wanted.
“Text me about Saturday,” I said. He nodded and walked out, leaving me feeling more conflicted than ever.
Chapter 29 – Cal
I stood in Shelly’s kitchen … again, waiting for her to finish getting ready. I’d told her to dress up and be ready to go at six, but when I’d arrived she asked me to give her a few more minutes.
I checked my watch, saw that we still had enough time, then glanced around the kitchen. This was the first time I’d been here during the day, and the place had “Shelly” written all over it.
She’d gone with a blue and yellow theme, which made me think of U of M, although I’m sure that wasn’t her intent. There were colorful appliances, towels, and yellow flowers in blue-pitcher-style vases. It looked fresh and homey. Shelly had a knack for making a house a home, no matter where she lived.
I sighed as it hit me …. I may not ever live with her again. I probably needed to remove myself from Scott’s home and find a place of my own, but I didn’t want to. I could be honest with myself and say that above all, I was hoping that after our next three dates, I’d be moving in here with Shelly.
Did that make me optimistic or naïve?
I probably needed to come up with a backup plan. It was time for me to give Scott his space back, and figure out what I was going to do with myself, if Shelly still wanted a divorce when this was done.
After the events of the last week, I had to admit that things weren’t looking good for “Team Cal.”
I heard the tapping of heels down the hall, and looked up to see Shelly enter the kitchen from the hallway.
Her hair was swept up, leaving her neck exposed. I’d always loved the soft expanse of her neck, and often spent a lot of time there, nuzzling or brushing my lips along the length of it. She was wearing a dress that hit just above the knee and swayed a bit when she walked. It was a halter-style dress, and I’m sure she picked it to show off her new tattoo, the script dark and sexy against her creamy skin.
She looked amazing, from the top of her head to the point of her black heels. My body grew taut with the familiar tug of longing, and I felt comforted in the fact that my wife, even after six years, turned me on like no other woman ever could.
“You look beautiful,” I said, walking over and offering my arm to her.
“So do you,” she responded with a smile.
It wasn’t often that I wore slacks and a tie. I was more of a jeans and T-shirt kind of guy, but the look on Shelly’s face as she looked me over was making me think I could become a convert.
