CHAPTER SEVEN
This stupid game of avoidance I'm playing is undoubtedly shameful.
With each text, there's an excuse. Sick, working, I'm busy.
For almost a week and a half, I've avoided him. Just when I think he is about to give up he sends me a message making me yearn for his touch all over again.
Messages saying he missed me, he wanted me, What he would do to me.
Jessica hadn't returned. I had chickened out after performing the cat's surgery and had the nurse return Jelly. I simply went home after the operation.
"Just message him for god sake," Rosalie snaps into the phone, "invite him out for a meal and say you need to talk."
"That will sound like I have feelings or something," i sigh.
"Then take him somewhere else. I don't know. Bella, I have to go. I have a date," she sighs, "that cop guy that pulled me over last week finally messaged me back. I guess the picture I sent him of my paid fine turned him on."
"Good luck," I giggle.
"Maybe he'll cuff me," she giggles.
"Oh god, Rose!" I gasp laughing.
"A lawyer and a cop.." she giggled, "find me a better love story."
"Romeo and Juliet," I suggest.
"They die," she yells, "fuck he's here. Bye. Text me about Edward."
She hangs up before I can even mutter a cya.
I don't know why, but I couldn't bring myself to erase his number in the kitchen. With anxiety, I keyed each number into my phone. On the fourth ring, he answers.
"Hello," he answers.
The chime of his voice sends a trigger of need right through me. What wife?
"Hey. Sorry I've had a crazy week. Are you able to meet me?" I ask.
"Umm. Yeah, I can get out of here. What about in an hour?" He said.
"Great. Just the cafe down the street?" I ask.
"Sounds great," he agrees problem free.
"Cool. I'll see you soon," I say.
When I hang up the pang of worry is mixed with excitement.
I considered calling back and cancelling. But I muster up courage and find a seat at the back. A booth that corners with a window. Escape option.
I order a coffee and tell the waiter I'm waiting on another person so he leaves the menu for Edward. When my coffee arrives in front of me Edward is right behind the delivery. I smile at him sweetly.
"Hey," I smile spooning some froth from my coffee into my mouth.
"You look great," he smiles tugging off his jacket throwing it beside him onto the seat.
"Coffee, sir?" the waiter asks.
"Just a long black," he nods, "thanks."
When the waiter leaves us I feel myself kicking to stay afloat already.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks.
For a minute I almost slip up from confusion. Then I remember it was an excuse.
"Oh, yeah much," I nod.
"That's good. I missed you," he smiles.
Before I can yell his coffee arrives. I wait for him to take a sip then I hit launch.
"So your wife came into my clinic last week to get your cat de-sexed," I said folding my arms onto the table.
His eyes turn dark. An eyebrow raised.
"My wife?" he looked amused.
"Look. I've been the girl heartbroken by a cheat. I'm not up for that. If I'm here to be some sort of mistress than you've got the wrong person," I ramble.
"Can I stop you there? First, by law, I am a husband… but I don't have a wife," he begins, "second… is this why you've been avoiding me. Thirdly, I'm allergic to cats."
When he fingers he's holding up three fingers after listing off each point. His ring finger is bare. That strong hand then moves to guide his cup to his mouth for a long, slow sip of coffee.
"What do you mean? By number one," I say.
He puts his cup down slightly smirking.
"Why does it matter to you? May I ask? I thought this was a no strings attached arrangement? Digging around in my life is sort of stringy," he looked up meeting my eyes.
I'm an utter deer in Edward headlights.
"I don't want to be a homewrecker," I defend annoyed, "I think there are more strings on your end of the stick. You've lied to me. You said your brothers set you up a tinder page because you had no time to date."
"I didn't lie. That was honesty. My brother-in-law and adoptive brother both suggested the idea," he explains.
"They suggested you cheat on your wife?" I ask.
"Who said anything about cheating?" he asked, "As I said, I don't have a wife."
"Then who showed up at my clinic?" I'm frustrated.
"That was Jessica Cullen. My living nuisance. My undivorceable ex-wife," he shrugs.
"Sorry. What?" I ask confused.
"She is like a cockroach. You spray it but it keeps running about," he leans forward to place his hand over mine, "I need to move on. I need to find happiness. Right now I'm miserable. Right now I'm desperate."
"So just divorce her?" I offer.
"With refusals to sign papers, holds and contested court dates, and then her father's threats to end me. Not so easy. I figured if I am the biggest shit of a man, she'd eventually just commit to leaving out of embarrassment. I took a page from her book. I didn't come home, took her name off my properties, sleeping with someone else. I signed an annulment. The money is all mine. She's discovered the affair. That's why she showed up," he explains.
"So you're using me," I demand.
"I was. But then something changed," he shrugged.
The answer didn't hurt as much as it should have. What changed? If anything she was intrigued.
"I thought there were no strings?" I raised an eyebrow.
"There isn't. I'm going to be blunt. I want you. Daily. Hourly. You have brought excitement to my dullness. My wife doesn't live with me. Our divorce is literally the slowest moving divorce in eternity. She wants everything that comes with being my wife. She doesn't want to let go. She's clinging. So I'm shaking the bitch off," he shrugs, "With not just every other shitty husband thing I'm doing. But by also having you make me moan louder than she ever could."
I am trapped by his gaze. His eyes locked to mine. Did he just say that?
"But I heard you on the phone?" I ask.
"I thought you heard. You see, her friends and family think we're together happy. She was hounding me about not being home. She'd swung by with her sister to pick up some of her shit discreetly. By putting on a huge display it made it look like a lovers tiff. I was being honest. I didn't sign up for a relationship like this. At first, I loved her. She was loving and the standard wife. But she got bored with it. Started having affairs, drinking late with friends, stealing sums of my money for lavish holidays with male friends," he explains.
"Is she going to come after me?" I ask.
"Probably. She obviously discovered I'd been seeing someone. She's like a strain of the FBI. Possibly found your name and linked it to your clinic. Hey, even I found where you work online," he smiles, "I wanted to see who I was inviting over. She isn't harmful."
"This is…" I huff.
"A lot. I know," he nods, "Which is why I didn't want to tell you. I wanted to see what this was. I wanted to escape and live the normal life of a young man. Chasing women. Or woman."
He winks at me smiling.
"Woman," I scoff smirking.
"I need a friend. Someone who doesn't know her. Someone who knows nothing about this. Even if there's no benefit there. Being around you in just a short space of time and having you on the other end of the phone restored my hope," he explains.
"I can't do that," I shake my head.
His face falls slightly.
"I'm sorry," I say.
"I understand," he nods eyes downcast.
My heart reaches out to him, but my head is pulling me back.
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