I felt his eyes linger on the bare flesh of my shoulder, but didn’t look up to meet his gaze. The gentleman sitting alone at the bar was simply not my type. No sir, tall, blonde, and boring could not tempt me away from my best friend and the sushi special at our favorite hibachi place. Besides, he’d still be looking when Vanessa and I were done. Of that, I was positive.
“Girl, that ring is doing you no favors.” Vanessa points her chopsticks at my half-karat princess cut. “It doesn’t even stop the guys from hitting on you. Every. Where. You. Go.”
I run my thumb over the stone and laugh. “I’m not always getting hit on.”
“You are.”
Changing the subject was best in these situations. “Brian and I are happily married.”
“How? Dude is always away for work. When was the last time you even saw him?” She pokes an eel roll into her mouth and moans in delight. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
“With the eel roll or the guys supposedly hitting on me?” I waggle my eyebrows and Vanessa mock-glares across the table.
“Definitely missing out on this roll,” she says. “But maybe the guys, too. Haven’t you even, you know, considered it? Taking one of them up on it?”
“Why would I do that?” I flip my long dark hair over my shoulder and ignore Blondie-at-the-bar as he turns his hips in my direction.
Vanessa’s hazel eyes bulge and she covers her mouth as she gulps the rest of her roll. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve been your best friend for four years and I’ve never even met Brian! How do I know he actually exists?”
She winks, but the comment stings.
How could she understand what my life with Brian is like? Since I went home to an empty house every night, I had more than enough time to wonder that very thing— am I missing out?
“Har, har.” I sneak my chopsticks across the table and steal an eel roll, then pop it into my mouth. The flavor explodes over my taste buds, both subtle and unexpected. “Wow.”
“I know, right?” The skin around her lips crinkles. “Hey, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bust your balls about it.”
I force a grin. “We’re good. I have no balls to bust.”
“It’d be okay if you did,” says a strange voice.
Vanessa and I look up at Blondie, who leans a little too close to V’s elbow. He runs a hand through his hair and his bicep bulges underneath his teal t-shirt. Okay, so the blonde wasn’t my thing, but his body wasn’t so off the mark. Wait, did he just say it was okay if I had— Vanessa and I look at each other like ‘Awkward.’
“Sorry. Bad joke.” He lets out a nervous laugh. “Could, um— could I buy you ladies a drink?” He speaks to Vanessa, only his eyes keep landing on me.
I want to be angry— the audacity! The cliché!— but the way he looks at me? His posturing, his open expression, the way he bites his lower lip… I feel pretty. I feel desirable. I feel seen… and that never happens with an absentee-husband.
“I’m Vanessa.” She offers her hand and motions her head in my direction. “This is Lou.”
I shoot V a what’s-with-giving-our-real-names-to-a-stranger look. She shrugs me off. Blondie shakes her hand, then mine, before he pulls up a chair. “Eric. Nice to meet you. Is Lou short for something?”
“Louisa.” In it for a dime, in it for a dollar, they say. Whoever the hell ‘they’ are. “But only my father calls me that.”
“I’ll stick with Lou then.” Eric flashes his white teeth and reveals a small dimple in the left side of his face. It’s cute. I hate myself for noticing…
I pretend to be inept at using my chopsticks as an excuse to break eye-contact, and the energy changes as soon as a waiter approaches. Eric orders a beer, then two more when Vanessa tells him she’s a Blue Moon type of gal and informs him I’m not picky.
“Nice to meet a lady that likes beer.” Eric nods at Vanessa. However, his gaze finds its way towards my side of the table. “Thought you might be the wine type.”
“Oh, we are,” Vanessa laughs. “But it’s not wine-thirty yet. Still have to go back to work.”
Eric chuckles, a hearty sound, like a mix of gravel and sex. He found that genuinely funny. My chest warms and I press a hand to my cheek. What is wrong with me?
“So, you’re on lunch break?” Eric eats his soup. He doesn’t slurp or hunch over his bowl. He’s a poised eater, and I can’t believe I care about this.
“Yeah.” Vanessa arches her eyebrows and the light captures the planes of her Polynesian features perfectly. Girl knows how to work it. “Lou and I work in an office a block from here. We used to share a cubicle but they had to separate us.”
“Too many pillow fights?” Eric tries to keep a straight face… and fails.
Vanessa turns to me. Her face says it all. No, I beg with my eyes. She tells him anyway. “Too many flower arrangements, actually.”
Eric pulls back. “What?”
“Between the two of us, we got so many flower arrangements delivered each week that we had no room to work.”
I let go of the breath I had been holding. Good thing she didn’t tell him the truth. What would this guy think if he knew I had that many strangers sending me flowers in attempt to woo me? Not to say Vanessa never got any, but I got three to her one. Guys always want what they can’t have though. It’s not anything to do with me. Without knowing why I do it, I hide my left hand under the table.
The rest of lunch passes in casual conversation. Eric makes jokes and Vanessa giggles. I find him funny, but feign unusual interest in my tempura rolls. I answer his questions in clipped phrases. It’s the right thing to do, isn’t it? Avoid the guy trying to get to know me?
Vanessa stands, and gives Eric her sex-kitten smile. “Excuse me. Be right back.” Then she mouths to me she’s going to the ladies’ room.
Alone with him, the tension mounts. Eric and I sit in silence, each of us trying not to get caught looking at the other. Every time our eyes meet, we both grin and blush, like eighth-graders or something equally stupid. I exhale and smooth the napkin in my lap. He was here for V anyway. It didn’t matter.
After a minute, Eric puts his elbows on the table and stares right at me. “So, you’re engaged?”
“Married.” Now that he’s named the elephant at our table, I meet his gaze too.
“Shame.” The way he gives me the once-over makes my skin tingle. It’s not sexual, like most guys’ looks. More like he’s admiring a fine painting, in the way that he knows touching it would ruin it.
I clear my throat. “Vanessa is single though.”
“Vanessa is lovely… but she isn’t the one who caught my attention.”
Heat climbs into my neck and face. This isn’t the first time I’ve been approached. Not by a long shot. Only… something about Eric is different. I feel different about him. What am I thinking?
“I’m sorry, I—” What was there to say? “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.” Eric swipes all the checks and pays before I have a chance to protest. Then he stands, takes my hand in both of his, and shakes his head. “Maybe we’ll run into each other again.”
“Maybe.”
“A guy can dream.” He winks.
I withdraw my hand and watch him walk away. He doesn’t saunter or swagger. Aside from coming onto a married woman, the guy seems so genuine. And honest. I bite my lip to keep the smile from splitting my face.
“Aw, he left?” Vanessa is back with her make-up touched up, and a frown on her ruby lips.
My grin melts. “He paid for lunch, if that helps.”
“He didn’t say goodbye. Ugh.” She drops back into her seat and slouches. “He was cute, too. Wait. Did he ask you out?” She narrows her eyes.
“No.” And it’s the truth.
“But he asked about that ring.”
I sigh. “Yes.”
“See!” Vanessa points at me. “Every. Where. You. Go.”
#
The salt air bites my face and I relish the breeze snapping my ponytail from side to side as I jog. Nothing beats a morning run at Mission Beach. The seagulls caw, the waves crash. Even now, the coaster is rattling down the tracks as the techs test it for the day.
I’ve worked up a decent sweat, reached the end of the pavement, when I pull out my earbuds and slow to a walk.
“Must be destiny.” A gravel-filled, sexy voice…
I pause, a smile tugging at my lips, and try to even my breathing. “You must be bad with names.” I turn to face Eric, all shirtless and grinning like he’s won the Nobel Peace prize. “I’m not Destiny.”
He licks his lips and wipes a towel across his abs. “I meant meeting you here. Must be destiny.” Then, like it’s a secret, he leans in to whisper in my ear, “I could never forget your name, Louisa.”
I brush a stray lock of hair from my face and take a step away. My heart beats like it’s trying to talk in Morse code. “You come here often?”
Eric laughs and claps his hands. “Now who’s hitting on who?”
I blush and slap his chest. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”
“Fine, fine.” Eric shakes his head and bites his lip. “I’m only here on the weekends. Like to start my Saturdays off with a dip. Too bad it’s not a nude beach.”
The salt air racks my lungs as I giggle. I’m giggling. “Well, I should head back.”
“What? We meet up, again, out of the blue, like fate is screaming ‘He’s the one’ and you’re just gonna leave?” He pouts, and reclaims the step I put between us.
“You’re not the one.” I don’t think.
“There’s something about you.”
“Yeah.” I scuff some sand beneath my sneaker and shrug. “It’s that I’m married.”
“It’s not that.” Eric tugs on a t-shirt. Looks out over the waves and runs a hand through that wavy blonde hair. When he turns back, his face is tranquil. Less amused than it was before. “Have breakfast with me.”
“I shouldn’t.” I will myself to walk away, only my feet won’t move. Not when I tell them to head away from Eric.
He tips his head. “You’ve got to eat.”
My stomach grumbles. Nearby, someone is cooking bacon and sweet rolls. If I could convince myself this was a friendly meal… I pause too long and his face lights up.
“It’s Saturday, Lou.” He takes another step towards me. We’re so close, the hem of his shirt rubs up against my shirt. If I bent my knee, it’d touch his leg. He breathes deep, maybe smelling my hair? He sighs. “Where’s that husband?”
I blush and absently spin my ring with my thumb. Brian was in Texas. Would be in Texas for several more days. “Work.”
“On a sunny day with a beautiful wife running alone on the beach?” He takes another step, our bodies now touching, thick and electric, so I tilt my head up to look into his face. His eyelashes are dark for being a blonde, thick even, and his artic eyes hold me captive. He raises a hand to my face, waits, checks to see if I’ll move and I should… but I don’t. He runs his thumb along my jaw and says, “Now that’s a shame.”
Something about the way he stares at my lips, finally signals my brain to move. “I have to go.”
So I do. I stumble away from him and run as fast and as far from temptation as I can. He calls after me, I just don’t stop. When I get to my car, my heart is racing and my eyes water. I had forgotten what it felt like to be desired up close and personal. Forgotten what breath on my lips felt like and hands on my face. Why did Eric have to push so much?
I pull out my cell and dial Brian. The odds of him picking up are not great, but I have to hear his voice.
I jolt back in surprise when he answers. “Yeah?”
“Hey, hi. How are you?” My voice is shaky and raw.
“I’m working. Did you need something?”
A stone of disappointment sinks low in my gut. This isn’t what I need right now. Cold, distant Brian. Where’s the warm man I married? The guy that sometimes still makes appearances in our interactions together. “I just… wanted to hear your voice.”
He exhales. I can imagine him rubbing his face in frustration. “I’m sorry, I’m just swamped. Can I call you later?”
“Yeah of course.” The wind whips my words away from me, sending my stray hair in strips across my face. I open my mouth as the line goes dead. “I love you,” I say anyway.
Another pang of hurt washes over me, and the thoughts I don’t want start to creep in. They slink and slide and as the hours go by and my phone doesn’t ring, they start to build houses in my mind. Maybe Vanessa is right. This ring is doing me no favors. Other guys see what Brian doesn’t. Maybe I am missing out.
#
I didn’t want to come to the bar, but Vanessa declared that a night of drunken dancing would cheer me up and she offered to buy. How could I resist? The place is dusty and cramped. Peanut shells litter the floor and amber-grey lights hang from antler chandeliers. I can barely move for all the bodies, so Vanessa leads with a confident hand, drawing me behind her as we navigate the crush.
“How did you find this place?” I feel like I’m screaming.
V looks over her shoulder. “Remember Joe? The guy I dated a few years back?”
“Barely.”
Vanessa laughs. “Me either! This was our go-to place. I fell in love with the stank of it.”
“Only you would say stank like it was a good thing.”
Vanessa stops and points at a tall blonde hottie with his back to us. “When stank looks like that, it is a good thing.”
Blondie turns and my heart slips into my throat. Eric. He sees me and smiles. The closest thing I’ve seen to cockiness in him is that I’m-winning grin. Vanessa waves and calls him over.
“V, what are you doing?”
“This is fate! Seeing him again.” She pulls back and makes a face like I’m daft. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“He said something similar on the beach the other day.”
Vanessa’s mouth gapes. “You were with him on the beach? You brat. You didn’t tell me you got his number.” While her words are harsh, her tone is amused.
“No, I didn’t. We ran into each other. Almost literally. I was jogging and he was there. I wouldn’t get a guy’s number. Come on.” I fold my arms across my chest and duck my chin. She doesn’t even know the half of it. He almost… we almost… Whatever. “We just keep bumping into each other. Honest.”
“Well.” She presses her lips together and glances at Eric as he nears us. Then in my ear, she whispers, “It really does seem like fate then, doesn’t it?”
“Fate’s a jerk.”
If Eric is taken aback by my words, his face doesn’t show it. He looks me over, and I wish oddly, that I’d dressed up. My skinny jeans, Coke t-shirt, and flip flops aren’t meant for a night out. I hadn’t wanted to be noticed. Had planned on avoiding all noticing of me. On the other hand, I hadn’t planned on running into Eric.
I put my hand on my hips and throw my hair to one side. “Are you some kind of cockroach?”
Vanessa elbows me in the ribs. “Be nice, Lou.”
Eric laughs. “In what way? Are you asking if I’m invincible?”
“I’m asking because I can’t seem to get rid of you.”
“You want me gone?” The tone of his voice tells me it’s an honest question. He’d leave me alone right now, if that’s what I said I wanted.
I pause, and feel Vanessa’s eyes drilling into the side of my face. I can sense her unspoken question. Why am I being mean to this guy? That almost kiss was sort of nice… I shrug. “Not really.”
His features alight with unreleased laughter. “In that case, may I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?”
Then, in my jeans and all, I believe him. I am beautiful. How does he do that? I brush away the thoughts of Brian and his open-but-shut eyes. The way he never notices me unless I’m dolled up and begging for his attention. He wouldn’t see me tonight. He hasn’t seen me for years. Maybe he never did.
“Thank you,” I mouth, then let Eric step closer than I should.
“Well,” Vanessa sing-songs. “I’m gonna grab a beer. Coming?”
She and I turn, it takes a conscience effort to look away from Eric’s full lips, and we pull up some barstools. I feel Eric slide onto the seat next to me, and I’m so angry about Brian never calling me back that I don’t even flinch when his knee knocks up against mine.
The bartender asks us to pick our poisons and Vanessa holds up two fingers and yells “Blue Moon, baby.”
“Coming up.” He winks at her and she flushes.
“Maybe we’ll drink on him tonight.” She chuckles into my hair. “Or Eric will pay for yours at least.”
My smile dims, just a bit. I press my face into V’s dark hair and inhale. “What am I doing? This is wrong, right?”
Vanessa shrugs. “Brian always being gone is wrong, too… Right?”
Our beers appear and I empty mine in one, long tip-back. That’s about how I’m feeling tonight. The bartender quirks his eyebrow and wipes his hand on his apron. “I’ll get you another.”
“Please do.”
Down the way, a sexy cowboy who looks like he walked straight out of a Telenovela approaches Vanessa. For once, the guy approaching my friend is not looking at me. “Would you like to dance?”
“Sure.” It’s her sugar-sweet, you-are-so-my-type voice. “Be back.”
“Be safe.” I slap her ass as she shimmies away. Oh, how I hope her happily ever after turns out better than mine.
When I down my second and third beers in a similar fashion to the first, Eric leans towards me and brushes my hair from in front of my shoulder to my back. I should tell him that’s not okay, but Brain’s general coldness is a sharp contrast to the warmth of Eric’s fingers on my neck, like a thrill of lightning shooting straight to my core, and I can’t find the strength to resist.
“You okay?” His face is open. Genuine. He’s not just trying to get to me. He cares. And that gets to me.
“I’m not.” As a lightweight, the alcohol is already tingling my toes and fingers. My tongue and eyes are losing their sharpness. I should stop, only… “Bartender?”
His eyes alight on my third empty bottle and a crinkle appears in his forehead. “Alright. At this rate, I’ll have to cut you off in fifteen minutes.” When I glare at him, he adds, “House rules. Of course, I could also offer you some nachos?”
I wave him off. I’m not hungry. Eric shifts closer to me, and I clear my throat. He smells like hair oil and the woods. His leg muscles feel long and lean against my thigh. His hand has found the small of my back. I’m not sure if he’s steadying me or making a pass, but I’m not about to protest. I turn and let myself look at him. This gorgeous man I keep bumping into, who really sees me when my husband made me feel invisible so long ago. Maybe I am hungry.
“You’re beautiful,” I tell him.
He smiles, yet his eyes hold a veil of concern. “I think you must not drink much.”
“Not much.” I run my finger along his strong jaw and admire the washed-out color of his stubble. “I don’t get to go out unless it’s with V.”
He shakes his head. “You say things like that and it makes me wonder the same thing over and over again.”
“Where’s my husband?” I have to look away. I don’t want him to see tears welling in my eyes. It’s the most obvious question. “Where’s my husband…”
Or maybe, why haven’t I left him?
I ask myself that every night at bedtime. When I wake up alone. When I sit on the couch Saturday nights and watch Netflix by myself. I ask it when I get hit on and say, ‘I’m married.’ I ask it when I attend parties stag, even when the party was my sister’s wedding, or the time my family had nothing nice to say about Brian when I showed up to my grandfather’s funeral alone.
Eric wipes away a couple of errant tears from my cheek, and pulls on my hand. “Come on.”
I allow him to tug me through the masses, as we weave and wind, and then I’m hit with a wall of fresh air when we tumble outside and into the night. The pollution blocks out most of the stars, only a couple of obstinate ones still glitter above us. I squint against the harsh yellow of the streetlamp and sulk towards the shadows of the side of the building. Eric follows.
I find a patch of wall I like, and slump against it. Eric stands in front of me, watching me as I let out a few, huge, ugly sobs. I wipe my nose and look anywhere except his face.
“I’m sorry.” I sniff and wipe my hands on my pants. “You must think I’m a basket case.”
He steps closer and tips my head up. His brows furrow, and he licks his lips. “I think you’re neglected— and it’s hard to talk about. I’m sorry.”
His whole body radiates this warmth I want— no, need— against me. I press my hands to his chest, firm and sculpted under my fingers. His breath hitches, and his fingers find my waist. They press into my skin, but with a gentle, cautious wonder.
“Louisa.” My name is a plea as it leaves his lips.
“Eric.” Without a second thought, I lean up on tiptoe and press my mouth to his.
It’s like a caged bird within me breaks free and flutters wildly in my stomach, my lungs and throat. I haven’t been kissed in so long. So, so long. I grip at Eric’s shirt and pull him closer.
Then he pushes me back, his eyes wide and worried. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
I blush with hurt. How stupid could I be? Kissing this guy when I was just crying about my neglectful husband. “I’ll go then.”
He starts shaking his head, “No, it’s not— Look, I want this. I want you. But you’ve been drinking. I — I don’t want you to regret me tomorrow.”
I pause and meet his eyes again. “You’re sure this wasn’t just about the chase? And now that I want you back, you’ve lost interest?”
“No! No, that’s not it. Seriously, Lou. I want you. I’ll take you anyway I can get you, as long as it’s what you actually want. When you’ve had a chance to think about it with a clear head.”
“Okay.” I nod. Even in my fuzzy buzzed state, I can admit he has a point. If I’m going to start an affair, shouldn’t I at least be sober when I make the decision?
“Let’s get you back to Vanessa.” Eric smiles and takes my elbow.
“Such a gentleman.”
“I try.” Before we reenter the bar, Eric spins to face me, and his face crinkles in thought. “Just one thing.” He kisses me again, hard yet somehow sweet and full of passion.
When he pulls back an inch, I stare at him, out of breath and floating. “What was that for?”
“Just wanted a little more to hold me over, until you make up your mind about…” He gestures between my body and his. “About us. Assuming this is just the beginning and not the end, I mean.”
If my body were a mood ring, I’d be pulsing crimson. Now I wish I hadn’t had a drop to drink, so I could tell him how much I wanted him, and check into someplace where no one could find us, and spend the night wrapped up in this man.
“So, you’ll think about it?” His words are a whisper against my mouth.
“Definitely yes.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for being a cockroach.”
He laughs, and for the first time in forever, I’m happy.
#
The next day, with a bowl of pozole to cure my hangover, Eric’s number stored in my phone, and a notepad and pencil in hand, I sit down to work out my feelings. I split the paper down the middle and mark the columns pros and cons. Maybe other people went about starting an affair differently. Maybe they jumped into them. Or fell, in some cases. I don’t know how this kind of thing happens to other people, but I find myself tottering at the edge of this precipice for two reasons: One, Brian is never around. And two, from the moment Eric saw me, he wouldn’t leave me alone.
I’m in this position, because of the actions of others. And if I’m going to start affair, I want it to be my actions that start it. My decisions, my choices, my life. I’m tired of sitting on the sidelines.
Under pros:
Eric sees me
Kind
Persistent but lets me call the shots
Makes me feel again
Under cons:
Married to Brian… Is unfaithful my thing?
And that’s as far as I get as to the reasons I shouldn’t. I can’t say that Brian is loyal or supportive. I can’t write anything that negates my pros list, because that would require seeing or at the least speaking to him on a regular basis. I tighten my jaw and clench my fists. When was the last time Brian even came home? I huff and close my notepad. Next to me on the counter, my soup steams, only I find I’ve lost my appetite.
Honestly. If he can’t be bothered to show up to our marriage, why should I deny myself some company? I mean, who’s to say he doesn’t get a little slice of love in each city he visits? Why should I be the one missing out because I’m the one left behind?
I stand up, ready to take on the world, and just then, Brian opens the front door. He’s holding a bouquet of lilies in one hand and his suitcase in the other. “Hey, babe.”
My mouth goes dry. “Hey.”
Guilt rises in a wave in the pit of my stomach. He brought me flowers. Sure, I hate lilies but he brought them for me. He never brings me flowers. Not one of those bouquets that got me and Vanessa separated at work came from him. Maybe he wants to apologize for not calling. Or for the last two years of not calling. I scratch behind my ear and shift my weight.
I should tell him. He deserves to know. Right? Of course, once I tell him that will be the end of it. There’s no way he’d trust me to be alone if he knew, so there’d be no more Eric.
“So, what have you been doing?” His voice is tired.
Shoot. Can he see it on my face? On my lips? Did he find out somehow and come home to win me back? Wait, how did he get home so soon? My fingers dig into the notepad and my heart races like a jackrabbit. My phone burns in my back pocket…. I look up to explain, only he’s not even looking at me. Not rushing to give me a kiss or a hug. He tosses the flowers onto the table, takes off his watch, and sets his glasses down. I purse my lips. Maybe those flowers weren’t for me after all.
He rubs his face and then his gaze lands on me. “Wow. That shirt makes your boobs look amazing.”
I glance down at my maroon striped, v-neck blouse and cringe. I love this shirt. Correction: Loved this shirt. Blouse #9 he’d ruined for me in that fashion. Pretty sure Eric would have charmed me out of the shirt— not disgusted me into throwing it away.
Brian raises his eyes to mine, like he just remembered I was in the room with my body, and frowns. “What did you say you’ve been doing?”
I exhale, then smile, my mind made up. “Absolutely nothing.”
Nothing he would ever need to know about, that is…
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