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That, well, that I could do.
I took care, slathering on the lotion I kept in my bag, brushing my hair free of tangles, slipping into the silk blush-colored shorts I had packed, only pausing when my hands pulled out the matching camisole.
I never had to give much thought to my pajamas before, having lived in a room with my sister, then alone in adulthood, never having to think about things like bras and cool, unforgiving of nipples material.
But I was thinking about my pajamas now.
With a single bed in the other room.
And Kai to share it with.
I was thinking about how my shorts hitched up a bit in the back, creating a sexy cheeky thing if I didn’t pay attention. And that the bodice of my shirt scalloped down a bit to show a swell of breast. That the air was pumping in the space. There would be no way to prevent my nipples pitching under the silk top.
Bare arms, bare legs, a hint of belly.
But I only had one other outfit to wear.
For the next day.
A dress.
I couldn’t wear a dress to bed.
And I had a moral opposition to wearing my dirty day clothes again after bathing.
I took another breath, hauling the camisole over my head, sliding it into place, deciding I would just roll onto my side facing away, make sure the covers were pulled up high.
With that, I flicked off the light, moving into the bedroom finding Kai had darkened the room as well, only leaving a light on dim over near the door.
He was already in the bed, in a simple white tee, a little loose around his slim body. I had this odd longing to see his inky hair tickling the collar. I never thought I would get attached to a colleague’s hair.
The bed – large enough for three people really, seemed oddly cramped as I rounded the unoccupied side, pulling back the covers, climbing in, settling on my side like I told myself I would, seeing some lights through the pulled blinds of the windows.
It was a long couple of minutes of nothing save for the occasional door clicking in the hall, the quiet ding of the elevator, the muffled sounds of a TV in another room.
I hated hearing the noise of a television at night, but I suddenly wished Kai had flicked it on, just to make things less awkward.
But then he finally did break the silence.
“Hey Jules?”
I took a breath, feeling it fill my lungs to burning, knowing his soft voice often came with things I didn’t always want to hear.
“Yeah?”
“It’s okay to feel about it. I know you’ve been thinking about it. But you need to feel it too.”
My body turned, curling on the side facing him, finding his gaze on me already.
“I’m afraid if I start feeling about it, I might never stop.”
“So what?”
“So… no one wants that,” I told him, feeling sure of it down to my marrow.
No one wanted messy me.
Everyone wanted cool, calm, collected, in-charge Jules, one that could handle whatever you threw at her without so much as breaking her stride.
They didn’t want me falling apart.
None of them.
“I do,” Kai insisted.
“No… you do…”
His hand moved out so fast I barely noticed the motion before I felt my chin snagged between two of his fingers, shocking me enough to make me lose my sentence.
“A man you were supposed to spend the rest of your life with, who you thought loved you, who you shared every part of your life with, saw you as nothing more than a mark, stole everything you have worked yourself to the bone for over the past several years, and then left you on your wedding day.”
Somehow, hearing it, hearing it from someone who knew all the ugly bits, knew how deep the betrayal went, it made it something. It made it bigger, more real. Took it out of shallow 2D, put it into three dimensions full of bright, Technicolor detail.
It broke down the defenses, put gaping holes in the wall I was trying to hide it all behind.
“Jules, sweetheart, you gotta purge it. If you don’t, it’s gonna eat you alive.”
That was it.
My defenses were stripped ruthlessly away.
The tears flooded and poured before I could even stop them.
A choked whimper burst out of me unbidden.
It was hardly a moment before I felt hands reach out to me, pull me close.
Kai rolled onto his back, pulling me securely to his chest.
One of his arms went around my hips, holding me close.
His other hand went to my hair, gently sifting through the damp strands as I soaked through his shirt, as my body racked with the intensity of the feelings he claimed he wanted me to purge.
I bet it looked a lot like heartbreak.
What he didn’t know was he held me through it all was it was anger, frustration, confusion, shame, embarrassment, fear.
