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I thought I was avoiding him, but he tried to sneak out of the house yesterday after the boys went down for a nap, so I think we’ve been trying to avoid each other.
I apologized in Detroit, and I don’t make a habit of doing it a second time.
I know it’s not smart to compare Chase and Sam, but my ex would treat me like shit when he was upset with me. Every situation, no matter what the topic, was somehow turned around on me until I felt the gnawing need to make it up to him even when he was in the wrong.
It’s one of the few things I’ve refused to continue since my world was rocked two months ago.
I’ve avoided Chase because after the kiss, I couldn’t stop watching his mouth when he talked, when he ate, when he was chewing on his bottom lip while writing measurements down as he was working on the boys’ play area the other day. I’ve been hyper focused on that mouth.
Maybe it was that my apology wasn’t genuine that’s left me so out of sorts. That kiss, as short as it was, breathed life back into a libido I thought had left long ago. I can’t help but be a little infatuated by it, so in true Madison fashion, I’ve avoided the idea of it all together.
Mostly.
I’ve mostly avoided it because right now, I’m in a lounger on the pool decking as Chase and the boys play in the water. I have my sunglasses firmly in place, but that’s only because I know I can’t keep myself from looking at him. A wet Chase Woodson? I may severely dislike him for things that went down over a decade ago, but I’m also not stupid. Unlike the women at the pool back inDetroit, I’m not brazen enough to take pictures of him. I will, however, stare and commit the sight of the water dripping down his muscled torso to memory.
His forearms flex as he picks Cole up, those veins that would make any woman drool pronounced before he tosses the little boy a few feet away from him.
Cole comes up sputtering with a wide grin, begging for another turn.
One of the few spoken rules Chase ever gave me before starting this job was that the boys were not allowed near the pool without him. The man is their father, so he can make any rules he likes. They’re fairly decent swimmers for their age, and they love it out here, but I’ve stuck with his rules. After risking my employment with that kiss, I know better than to take another chance of losing this job because it would probably include the design job as well.
When Chase’s eyes dart in my direction, I try to stay unaffected, but eventually I need to pick up my phone for a distraction. If he were a little closer, he’d be able to see the way goosebumps trail over my skin with the attention and, considering it’s the temperature of the surface of the sun out here, I really need a break from him.
Social media bores me on a good day, but it’s always good for mindless scrolling. I don’t usually have much time for it, and I realize by the number of notifications I have, that I haven’t been on in over a week. I scroll the alerts, not paying attention to most of them. Like why should I care when someone comments on a post that isn’t mine? It’s like these platforms are training us to be snoops and stalkers.
Annoyed, I almost close out of the app but I see someone I’d consider more an acquaintance than a friend has tagged me in a comment.
I regret clicking on it immediately.
My name is the only thing in the comment, but it’s showcased right under the smiling picture of my ex and a woman I don’t recognize. The link takes me to an engagement announcement, and the sight of their smiling faces makes my chest cave in.
A glutton for punishment, I end up on the online society page which breaks my heart even more. It’s a full spread article describing their wedding plans, and of course it comes with more than a dozen photos of them doing various things to prepare for their special day.
Just when I think it can’t get any worse, I read the inscription below one of the pictures that describes them picking out the perfect flowers during a trip to Nepal three months ago.
Three. Months. Ago.
He was planning his happily ever after with this woman before I discovered my empty bank accounts. It makes me wonder if she was there beside him,snickering when he lied to me on the phone about plane delays in Europe because of bad weather or if she’s just as in the dark as I was. I’m leaning more toward the former honestly, because I didn’t get an announcement in the paper. Every time I’d ask Sam about the wedding, he’d always tell me not to rush things, that the wedding plans could wait. We have time. He couldn’t even waste time on planning with me to pad his lie. I wasn’t worth it.
I know I should close out of the website. It shouldn’t bother me at all, but the way he has his hands on her in some way in every single picture rocks me to my core.
I was introduced to so many of his friends, but he never wrapped his arms around me in public. Displays of affection like that were a way a man claims a woman, andyou don’t want to be claimed like a pet, Madison. You’re going to be my wife one day, not a prized pony.
My stomach turns at recalling that conversation. It went hand in hand with him disregarding the part of the conversation we had about me wanting to be a mother and a respected businesswoman.
It was all a manipulation. But regardless of knowing that now, I still open a new window on my phone and search her name.
It’s clear very quickly that there’s a good chance that he’s going to use her for her family’s money because their net worth according to Forbes is astounding, so high in fact, I’m surprised I’ve never heard of them.
But then there’s the way he’s looking at her, even in some of the more candid photos. I can’t recall a single time that he looked at me that way. I missed so many clues, listened to his lies too many times, that I don’t know exactly when I lost myself.
“Madison?”
I snap my eyes up to see Chase on the side of the pool, his forearms bent as if he’s seconds away from pulling himself up and out of the water.
“What’s wrong?”
I don’t realize until he asks that my chest is heaving.
