Sex Unlimited(34)

“I know and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry for things taking this unexpected turn but I’m not. I thought I was dead inside. I was certain of it. You’re a gift to me and I’m not going to take you for granted. We will figure it out as we go. Alright?”

I nod. “Alright.”





“You can grab anything from my drawers over there to wear. Or you can always stay naked. I assure you I won’t complain.” His smile meets his eyes as he turns, looking back at me from the bedroom door. “I’m going to go get that dinner we missed ready. I’m starved.”

I give him a flirty wink. “I’ll see what I can find.”

He taps the doorframe with his hand excitedly before disappearing into the hallway. I walk across the lush carpeting over to his dresser. Only a watch and a set of cufflinks lay on top of it. Pulling open the top drawer, I find it’s full of his socks and boxer briefs. They’re all folded neatly in organized rows. I shake my head, thinking how strange it is to see a man so neat and tidy. James was nowhere close to neat. I close the drawer and pull open the second one. White t-shirts are folded neatly one by one. I smile as I reach down, pulling one out. A hint of something red peeking out from the corner of the drawer catches my eye. I wonder if he has a red t-shirt mixed in with all of these white ones. That seems odd. I pull on the fabric only to reveal a red sachet. Immediately I think he’s using that smell good stuff some use in their drawers. It almost makes me giggle at the thought of a man using such a thing. I bring it up to my nose and inhale but it smells like nothing. Maybe it’s old. I pull open the drawstring and peer inside.

“You want to eat up here or downstairs.” His voice scares me and I drop the sachet. Small puzzle pieces scatter across the floor one by one. I kneel down and begin picking them up. “I’m sorry, Brisban. I didn’t mean,” my eyes focus in on the puzzle pieces and shock shoots through me like a sharp pain. Pausing briefly I try to process what I’m seeing. I connect the thoughts in my mind and my heart races. I stand up abruptly and reach out for his watch from atop the dresser.

“Candace, what are you doing?” His words are clipped.

I don’t respond. Instead I flip over the watch, only to confirm the unbelievable parallel of our lives. My eyes scan the inscription and my heart sinks to the pit of my stomach.

My love for you is timeless, never-ending, and infinite.

Oh, my God.

Dawn…my client, is his ex-wife.





I DROPPED THE WATCH. THE sound of it hitting the top of the dresser reverberates in my head as a pulsating, throbbing pain begins in my temples. I can’t speak and can barely think.

“Candace, what’s going on? You look sick.” He walks over and bends down, picking up the puzzle pieces. It seems as if everything is happening in slow motion, almost as if I’m on the outside looking in at this unbelievable sequence of shocking events. Watching him grasp the pieces of his promises to Dawn, I begin to tremble. The words of her manuscript start to pillage my thoughts, so many that I can’t absorb them all at once. The confusion on his face is devastating. This terrible realization of how the parallel of our lives changes everything for us rains down upon me. It’s as if freezing, ice cold rain is piercing me like daggers in the middle of winter.

“I have to go.” My voice is shaky and the fact that I’m naked doesn’t even begin to represent how exposed I feel. Even though I didn’t know who he was until just now, I feel an extreme amount of guilt. The pain and sorrow in Dawn’s book penetrates my shell and pricks at my soul. The man I’ve been falling for is the love of her life. Heartaches and the life crushing tragedy of losing a child was shared by these two people. Dawn and Brisban were broken together. They needed to heal together. I can see the hurt on his face as he looks down at the pieces of his love for her.

I don’t belong here.

Not only do I not belong in his home but I don’t belong between them and the possibility of their reconciliation. He’s obviously been lost since they divorced. Finding me on that website was just a band aid for the absence of her. I start scrambling for my coat and pull it on hurriedly. My regret for not wearing clothes is at an all new level.

“Why? What’s happening here? And what does my watch have to do with it? Or these?” he holds up his hand, opening it. The puzzle pieces rest in his palm and my eyes fill with tears. A knot in the pit of my stomach twists and my mouth feels like I’ve been chewing on cotton balls. I start to respond but I can’t. If I try to talk I’m just going to sob. The buttons on the coat are being difficult, or my hands are, but either way I can’t get them all fastened as quickly as I’d like.