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“Alright, that’s enough out of you.” I shove him through the door and slam it shut.
Scurrying to my window, he plants his hands over the glass, voice muffled. “I’ll give her your phone number! And don’t worry, I’ll make sure she’s clean.”
Through my open blinds, I see several heads turn our direction.
“Fucking hell.” I roll the blinds closed with a tired sigh.
I turn for the couch, and the plastic casing around my tux rustles when I run my hand over it.
The windows framing towering skyscrapers and the subtle fog that hazes around each of them is a work of art. I busted my ass through college, took extra training courses, practically became a virgin again for three and a half years post grad so I could work my way up some corporate ladder tothis.
People fight their whole lives to be in the position I’m in, and it’s somehow still not enough.
There’s no thrill pulling me out of bed in the mornings. No excitement like there once was. And I suppose those are the qualities that attracted me to my ex in the first place.
As usual, that ever-present ache begins to bloom in my chest, like a living thing that’s been asleep for far too long, waiting for me to wake it.
I rub the area absently.
Her kinks terrified me. But much like Pavlov’s hound, I couldn’t wait for her to come slinking into my office during my lunch hour, closing the blinds, and then stripping out of whatever outfit she’d surprise me with.
She used to goad me while gripping my ass with her blood-red nails to keep me from retreating. Even sick to the point of vomiting from the view below, I would thrust her up against the blindless windows facing the city, suffering through it all because of my desire to please her.
Before the affair—and before she blamed me for the reason it happened to begin with—her love and approval were a high I was constantly chasing.
It may have taken me the better part of a year to learn, but I know now that even the best highs are fleeting.
Swiping a hand over my face, I flick my gaze to the calendar lying on my desk. A bold red circle marks the date we’re expected to leave, and in less than one week, I’ll be in paradise.
I’ll take a load off, play a round or two of golf with Chuck and the boss, impress the CEO, and then accept an award I’m working on convincing myself I deserve.
Who knows, maybe I’ll even have a little fun.
