Home > Tryst (Take It Off #8)(8)

Tryst (Take It Off #8)(8)
Author: Cambria Hebert

“Read through them. If you have any questions, just call me,” Jack said gently.

“Do you have a pen?” I asked.

“Talie,” Joanna said. “You will not sign those here. Please think about this. Signing them would be a mistake.”

“You really think so?” I asked, sitting back while the waitress returned to fill all our glasses with icy water. Jack ordered an appetizer for the table, and she left us alone once more.

“Talie,” Joanna said empathically. How is it that my older sister could always put the kind of emotion into her voice that only a sister could? It’s like my heart just automatically responded to that tone. Like it was a golden retriever trained to her command.

“Blake is a good man. His father built a very successful construction company that has become the number one go-to builder in Raleigh. Blake is poised to take over that company. He is very smart and business savvy. He’s going places, places you will go if you stay together.”

What kind of places was she talking about? Because the only place I could think about when I thought about staying with Blake was hell.

“I thought you wanted a home and a family?” she asked.

“I do.” It was what I wanted more than anything. I guess I was old-fashioned that way. It wasn’t the way a modern woman should be thinking. I certainly was all for women’s equality, but there was something wonderful (to me) about having children and watching them grow, about having a home that I loved where I could water my roses and bake cookies in the kitchen. Was it really so wrong to just want a husband to love me, to think I’m beautiful, and to be surrounded by my children and grandchildren?

I thought I was going to have all that with Blake.

“You can still have that.”

“He cheated on me,” I said, my voice hollow and raw.

“It was a mistake. Surely by now he’s seen the error of his ways. He knows what it’s like to come home to a house without you in it. Have you even talked to him?”

I shook my head.

She sighed. “At least talk to him. See what he has to say. Maybe he wants to make amends.”

She sounded so reasonable. Like it was all so possible. She made me feel like perhaps I overreacted. I glanced at Jack.

He nodded.

“I’ll talk to him,” I said. Joanna smiled. “But after that, I’m giving him the separation papers.” I didn’t bother to look at her reaction. Instead, I looked at Jack. “How long until the divorce can be finalized?”

“In North Carolina, you have to be separated for one year before the divorce can go through.”

My lungs deflated. “An entire year?”

He nodded.

I guess a divorce wasn’t as simple as paper and pen after all. I didn’t know if I could deal with this for an entire year. That seemed so long. I needed to get those separation papers signed as soon as possible so that one year could start.

The waitress came back with a large dish of some kind of dip and a basket of bread and set it between us on the table. My stomach lurched. I picked up the papers and tucked them under my arm. “I just remembered I can’t stay.”

I stood up, muttering an apology. “You two have a wonderful lunch.” Joanna looked like she was ready to try and change my mind. I’d had enough of that already. “Thanks Jack,” I said and then raced away, turning the corner of the building and stopping to breathe a sigh of relief.

I pulled out my cell phone and hit a few buttons.

He answered on the first ring. His voice was like a sharp spear directly into my heart. I took a deep breath, ignoring the pain.

“We need to talk.”

5

Talie

We met at the scene of the crime, aka: the house we shared up until two days ago. I knocked on the door when I arrived, the action totally strange and awkward. Who knocks on their own door?

But it wasn’t my door anymore.

I needed to remember that. This apartment ceased to be my home the moment I walked out rolling a few large suitcases behind me.

I would do what Joanna asked. I would talk to Blake, see where his head was. After this conversation, maybe I would understand what happened. Maybe, just maybe, I would learn he really was regretful. For a fleeting moment, I imagined a grief-stricken Blake begging me to forgive him so we could start over again.

I wouldn’t have to leave my life. I wouldn’t have to abandon my dream of a family and a home. I wouldn’t have an entire year of separation to endure. Just the thought of everything going back to normal again eased a little of the tension that coiled at the base of my neck.

And then he opened the door.

Blake was a good-looking man and he exuded charm. It practically dripped from his pores. I used to joke and tell him he didn’t need cologne because his natural pheromones made women fall at his feet.

I didn’t really think that joke was funny anymore.

He had a head of thick, dark hair he wore slightly long and pushed back in waves off his face. His skin was olive-toned and his eyes were dark. He looked like the Italian he was. His lips were full and lush, he had dimples on his cheeks when he smiled, and his teeth were white and straight.

A few of my co-workers (well, EX-co-workers now) called him Gaston because he looked just like the guy in Beauty and the Beast who thought Belle should marry him. I never before saw the resemblance. But I did today.

And having seen Beauty and the Beast several times, I realized calling him Gaston wasn’t really a compliment. Sure he was a looker, but he was also a complete ass.

“Talie,” he said warmly. The sound of my name on his lips once threatened to send me into a puddle of mush. He opened the door all the way. “You know you don’t have to knock.”

“I think I do,” I said, brushing past him and into the apartment.

The tan leather couches, wooden coffee table, and various neutral throw pillows tossed on the furniture were exactly the same. The landscapes on the walls, the oversized clock my parents bought us for Christmas, the way the dining room table leaned just a bit because one of the legs was mysteriously a little too short… it was all the same.

So why did it feel so different?

I stood in the center of the room, clutching the envelope of papers, taking it all in and trying not to feel torn and devastated. The words ripped from my throat before I could even think.

“How could you?”

I turned, my blurry eyes focusing on the man I honestly thought I would spend forever with. He swallowed, the thick Adam’s apple in his throat bobbed, and I stared at the open V the collar of his white dress shirt made against his skin.

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