Yes. Everything about David was perfect.
Except for the one part. The tiny little piece of bad in what had been a world of awesome.
Which was why lying on him, her body replete after making love to him—and it had been lovemaking this time—she couldn’t help but ask the question even though she didn’t want to know the answer.
“When are you leaving?”
The arm he had wrapped around her waist squeezed her body against his. It was his only answer.
She lifted herself up and out of his arms, and he groaned because he knew they needed to talk about it and clearly it was a conversation he didn’t want to have.
“I have to know,” she told him. “I have to have some idea.”
“Why?”
Why? How ridiculous was that? Because she needed to brace herself for the pain. Pain she’d accepted when she decided to go for it with him. She gave herself permission to have this affair, and to date it had been the most exhilarating ride of her life. Beyond that, David was someone she couldn’t have even dreamt of he was so big. Her world up until this moment was so small really. He’d broadened her food horizons, her sex horizons, her whole damn life horizons.
He revealed for her she liked escargot, pinot noir and hard core ass-slapping fucking. He’d been sweet and funny and saucy and arrogant. On any given day she didn’t know which David she was going to get. But she liked every iteration.
He treated her as if she was a princess. As if she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. The most interesting woman. The sexiest woman he’d ever known. When she knew she had been none of those things before him.
She was no longer Bill O’Hara, you remember him the dirty cop’s, daughter. She was no longer Sinead O’Hara, isn’t it sad she lost her mother so young. She was no longer the person she’d been before.
“Because I can’t get in too deep,” she whispered. “I have to protect myself.”
It was too late. She was in way too deep. She was at the bottom of an abyss, going to need several weeks of recovery time with probably a few benders thrown in until she reached the top again. She knew that. She had given herself permission to experience that because all the beauty he’d shown her would have been worth it.
But she needed to know when it was coming. Tomorrow? Next month? Then at least she would know.
“You’re not in deep? Because I am.”
That made her jump out of bed like he’d stung her with something. “What the fuck?”
He pulled himself up on the bed. “I’m sorry. I know it’s crazy, but it’s the truth and I’m so damn tired of lying all the time. I’m falling in love with you, Sinead.”
She shook her head, not able to accept what she was hearing. “You can’t do that. You’re leaving.”
“I know, and it’s going to suck but… I can’t stop it. I can’t protect myself. I can only deal with the feelings I’m having. And I’m choosing to be truthful about them.”
“Well, stop that,” she said, pointing at him. “The truth thing. Because it’s not fair.”
Belatedly, she realized she was naked so she scrambled to find her clothes. They had been tossed all over the bedroom when he’d started stripping her. Her panties, her bra, her jeans and a T-shirt. When she was dressed she walked back into the bathroom. She had a clip with her stuff and she used it to pull her hair up into a knot.
She looked at the bathroom counter then. Really looked at it. His deodorant next to hers. His toothbrush in a cup alongside hers. Her fancy lotions that she liked to splurge on. All of their stuff. Mixed together. Intimately.
When she came back out of the bathroom she saw he’d gotten out of bed and put on a pair of jeans. He was hot in a suit, but he truly rocked the shirtless jeans thing.
“You’re leaving?”
She nodded. “I need space. I need to think. I can’t… I mean I need to process what you’ve just said.”
“Alright.”
She stared at him. “Alright? That’s it? You’re not mad because I’m standing in front of you freaking out right now?”
He shook his head. “I’m not mad.”
No, she thought. He wasn’t mad, but that other look was back. The one she really didn’t like. The one that made her want to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay.
He was sad.
She’d done that. She’d made him sad, and that was its own kind of pain. This whole time she’d been worried about herself and protecting herself from pain, she hadn’t once thought about how he was going to feel when he left.
Which made her pretty selfish and sucky. Sure the jets, the restaurants, he got to keep all of that, but he didn’t get to keep her, and apparently she meant something to him.