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Life can’t go back to how it was yesterday, and I desperately wish it could. I’d do anything to get yesterday back. Ignorance is bliss, after all.
We walk into the kitchen. All black gloss and dark marble, it looks like something out of a celebrity house tour. It’s too modern, not fit for practicality, but it probably doesn’t get cooked in often. I sit on a bar stool, across from where Joseph goes to stand in front of the fridge.
“What are you thinking about so hard?”
“Pondering how men can be so dead inside, they steal the life from women.” My face feels stiff. Being forced to look at him isn’t helping the internal pendulum swinging between realising he isn’t who I thought he was and remembering the person I so desperately wanted him to be.
I wanted him to beit. I thought I’d found the one I would be with, and I didn’t realise it until the moment he wasn’t there. I was comfortable, I was infatuated, and I am undeniably stupid.
“We have a lot to talk about.” He leans down on to the counter, his gaze seeking mine, but I struggle to keep it away from his arms.
My Lord, those arms fill out the sleeves of his shirt too well. The material looks as though it is about to tear open. I remember what those arms felt like under my hands and wrapped around my body, supporting my legs as he…
“No, we don’t have adamn thingto talk about. It was a ploy to get to Tony. I understand perfectly how badly you needed to get this stupid shipment and what you were obviously willing to do to get it.”
I was worth breaking for it.
“That’s not true.”
“It’s very true, and I look forward to the second Tony brings it back so I can go home and forget you ever existed. Because I’m ninety-nine percent sure that’s what we both want.” I lean back on the bar stool, pretending to examine the flowers on the counter. They’re beautiful, giant lilies opened-up proudly, displaying all their secrets for us to adore. Stupid flowers should know that it’s all in vain. In a week’s time, they’ll be dead.
Joseph lets out a sigh, straightening up from the counter to turn and look into the fridge. He saves us from the ‘what do you want?’ conversation and starts pulling things out.
With his back turned, I can look without bashfulness. This man has to be the worst I have ever met. Not by what he has done to me, but because of who he works for and what he does for him. How did I let myself get tangled into this?
As I stare at his back, admiring the curves of his shoulder blades, I notice his body has stilled. My eyes jump up, searching for the reason, and find his reflection staring back at me in the mirror-like panel above the fridge door.
His gaze is intent, frustration shining behind his eyes, giving him the air of a caged lion. I think this is going to be a long night. He’s frustrated I’ve stopped playing his games. Well, if Joseph thinks he’s getting anywhere close to me, he has another thing coming.
Hopping down from the bar stool, I appraise the open-plan kitchen and lounge, searching for anything to do. Finally, I settle on the windows, far away across the room.
This is worse than liking someone who doesn’t like you back because he pretended he thought I was everything. He put me up there so high, always knowing there was going to be a time that I’d fall. If men are like this nowadays, how do we stand a chance at finding a good one amongst the rats?
The plush carpet is spongy under my feet as I walk across the room and grab hold of the window sill to give me something to ground myself to. What if Tony doesn’t find the shipment? I’ll be stuck here longer. That’s an unbearable thought, especially if I’m going to have to eat every meal with him.
“You hate me.” His voice is gravelly, accompanied by the sound of a knife slicing through produce.
“Well, I wasn’t being subtle about it.”
I’m not sure if he hears me because the silence stretches for a little too long.
“I deserve it—I know I do—but you need to know that it wasn’t all for the job. I wanted to get to know you.”
“You’re saying you wanted to do this to me? You enjoyed it?” I cringe into myself. What is wrong with me? “You’re worse than I thought.”
“No! I hoped that if we built a foundation strong enough that…you might…”
When his voice trails off, I spin around, putting the cold glass of the window against my back.
“Oh, you have to be kidding me. You thought I’d be stupid enough to forgive you for doing this to me? Is that how weak you think I am?”
“Everything I said and everything I did, I meant. I didn’t lie about any of that!” The frustration is breaking through, his voice getting louder, his eyes desperate, a tremble humming through his body like the one I feel inside me.
“Well, then you can relate to what I’m feeling.” A vicious idea pushes me up from the window and causes me to walk back to the kitchen. I watch his eyes devour me. They’re hungry and desperate, and he drinks me in, from my toes to the messy ponytail I’d thrown my hair into.
I keep his gaze until I’m standing between the fridge and the counter he’s chopping onions on. He appears magnetised. His body never stops facing me, leaving his back against the counter, knife discarded on the chopping board.
This can’t be real. He can’t actually be obsessed with me, but the proof is staring right at me. I have him at my fingertips here. His body is simply waiting for me to tell it what to do, and I don’t doubt he’d do it.
