Sitting at the vanity, she applied her eyeliner, continuing to stew on the events of yesterday. How dare he treat her in such a way, pushing her away as if she were nothing more than the dirt on his shoe?
She'd never been treated so dismissively before, he had commanded her to leave Miami and return to her life in New York as if she had meant nothing to him. Where the hell did he get off, telling her what to do?
She'd driven back to the hotel, wiping furiously at the tears that streamed from her eyes, she would not give that asshole the satisfaction of knowing that he had upset her. But was it the fact that he had dismissed her that had upset her, or the fact that he would no longer bend to her will?
Either way, it was infuriating and unacceptable. The discussion was far from over as far she was concerned, she would make her voice heard, regardless of what might be best for the man that she used to love, that she still loved.
Did she though, did she really still love him, had she ever truly loved him in the first place? She had loved the primal physical connection that they had shared, John had always been a gifted lover and had made her feel like no other man ever could. Had they both just got so lost in the hedonism of the feel of each other's naked skin that it blinded them to the truth?
Since her divorce from Danny, she had found herself strangely cut adrift from life, meandering from one expectation to the other, yet never truly finding any real sense of contentment. Motherhood had been unexpected, she had found herself going through the motions somewhat when it came to raising her children. Bringing new life into the world, caring and nurturing her children had never come naturally to her. There had been many times when she cursed the way she had spoken to her children or treated them, as her past finally came back to haunt her.
Her children, although they loved her, were emotionally distant. She had imbued them with the same sense of independence that she'd had, now that they were grown, they no longer were in need of her guidance or advice, not that she'd ever really provided that in the first place. Danny had always left her in the role of bad cop, she would always have to be the one to discipline the children, while he would be the one to shower them with gifts and affection.
Perhaps it suited her to play that role, her temper had always gotten the better of her in those younger years. John had usually been the one to suffer her wrath, yet he kept coming back for more, even after they were divorced, she was still able to have her way with him at her choosing. Having the measure of a man such as John made her feel empowered and important, it was a new and exciting feeling to her after the cold and rather detached way her own mother had treated her.
She wondered if John ever realised that her quick temper was nothing more than a defence mechanism, a knee-jerk reaction she had put in place to prevent those closest to her from seeing how much she was really hurting inside. Her own childhood had been difficult, caught between an emotionally reticent mother and a father who often put geographical distance between him and his family, citing the repeated reason that his work took him away from home for long periods of time.
She and Max had every material item that a child could wish for, they were always dressed in the latest fashions and had the most extravagant toys that money could buy, yet the endless procession of nannies that inhabited their large townhouse often left her feeling lonely and confused. Her brother had offered little in the way of emotional support to her, boys were not known for talking about their feelings, and he would often pull her hair or call her a sissy for wanting to discuss such horrifying subjects.
It became something of a pattern, that she would grow close to a child minder only for them to be replaced a short while afterwards, the constant stopping and starting affected her emotional development more than she had previous realised. By the time she was in her young teens, she had become remarkably self-sufficient. Her independence had come at a price though, in order to protect herself from further pain she had become emotionally distant from those around her. It had been her experience that if she got too close to another person that she would inevitably lose them and be forced to start over again, the thought of repeating the same mistakes over and over had driven her to hide part of herself away from the rest of the world.
Anger became her outlet, her frustration at her distant parents often spilled over into her school life. She and Max were fortunate that they both went to the best schools in the state, her education had been second to none and would stand her in good stead for the future. None of that seemed to matter when she heard the other girls in the school yard talking about the fun trips they went on with their parents during the summer break.
The other girls would eventually ask her what she had done during those long summer weeks, when school was out and the rules of everyday life were relaxed. What could she tell them, that her parents were too busy with their careers to spend more than a day or two with their children? That her mother and father had looked bored the whole time that they had been out to visit the City Museum? That they couldn't wait to get back to their jobs and let the hired help take care of the kids?
No, she couldn't tell them any of that. Her only choice would be to lie, and so she did. But the other girls would keep asking her questions until she found herself being tripped up by her own fabrications.
Maybe it had stood her in good stead to become a lawyer, being able to emotionally distance herself from the subject at hand, to spend her time pointing the finger of accusation in someone else's direction. Deflection was the best form of defence, after all.
But then she had met John, and the attraction had been instant. Physically they were a perfect match, the passion between them was obvious from the first time his hand had brushed hers. There was something about the handsome, slightly cocky redhead that she found endearing and it drew her to him.
They had been so caught up in their passion that both of them had failed to see how destructive they were to each other, her in particular. She had never took any satisfaction out of saying those hurtful things to him, yet she was powerless to stop herself either. Every time she felt he was getting to close to breaking down the defences that she had so carefully constructed, she felt the need to lash out at him and create some distance between them. It was how she had survived for so long, protecting herself from the emotions that confused her, the emotions that she found so hard to understand.
It was obvious that her erratic behaviour was hurting the man she loved, it ate at her every day to see the way that their toxic relationship was chipping away at the bright and bouncy young man she had met across that crowded squad room. Little by little, his happiness and zest for life were diminished by the cruel words she sent his way. But she had tried, she had tried so hard to be the wife that he wanted, the wife that he deserved.
She couldn't do it though, each time she looked into those sad blue eyes, she saw the hurt in them, the pain that she had caused by treating him so coldly and trying to push him away. He'd come back each time, after their hurtful arguments, intent on clearing the air and making concessions towards her, promising that he would change in whatever way he could to please her.
It was unfair and unrealistic to expect him to do so, she couldn't bear to hurt him anymore than she already had, and so she called time on their relationship and their marriage. She would never forget the look of shock on his face as she'd told him it was over, it pained her to see him look so shattered, yet she knew it was for the best. He would hurt deeply for a while, but his wounds would heal with time. He deserved to be freed from their relationship, he deserved to find a woman who would be able to give him what he wanted.
It was unlikely that he had ever considered how hard it was for her to end their relationship, it certainly wasn't something that she'd enjoyed doing, she took no satisfaction from taking his world and smashing it to pieces. Someone had to make the first move, John was too much in love with her to be in any position to do so, and so she found herself yet again being the voice of reason, playing the role of bad cop.
Letting him go and staying away would have been the smart thing to do, it was just a shame that she found herself unable to do so. She was well aware that he was struggling much more than she was to get over the breakup of their marriage, a cruel part of her wanted his suffering to continue so that she could continue to have a hold over him. Having the upper hand in a relationship was something quite alien to her, yet she enjoyed the thrill that it gave her to see him jump at her every command.
She had come to Miami seeking to fill a void that had been present for most of her adult life, convincing herself that John would be the man to fill the dark chasm in her aching heart. She had told herself that he alone was the reason that she could never move on, never feel complete without him. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, but she felt they both deserved the opportunity to see if the old spark was still there.
It had taken her by surprise to see the sorry state of a man that John had become, too weighed down by the regrets of what he had done in his past. She had given him a dose of her righteous anger, and he had accepted it as if it was what he felt he deserved. He didn't want her forgiveness or understanding, he wanted her to reaffirm his sinful behaviour and berate him for the choices he had been forced to make.
Looking at his worn face, it reminded her why she had fallen in love with this gentle and kind man in the first place. She had so often never given him the emotional reassurance that he needed when they were together, staring into his tired eyes, she could see just how deeply he was still affected by what had happened to him.
She was not perfect, she knew that, but she would not stand back and watch this good man suffer any longer. He needed to hear that she understood and that he was forgiven, even if he wanted to deny it to himself, he needed to know that his actions back in New York had not been in vain. His reaction had been one of intense relief, and it had felt good to know that, for once, she had done something positive for him.
Perhaps her elation and his relief had got the better of both of them as their lips met in a tender kiss, suddenly years of memories and emotions flooded back to the surface. The feel of his lips on hers had set her skin on fire and reminded her just how good they were together physically. It had reminded her that his touch was like that of no other lover she had ever known.
Suddenly it became clear, as if the last remaining piece of the jigsaw had finally slotted into place. She convinced herself that being with John had been what she'd been missing for so long. His touch had reignited a flame she thought had been doused long ago, surely he felt the spark as much as she did?
But he'd pulled away from her, the man she remembered had never been one to turn down the opportunity to be intimate with her. He'd told her that he was no longer the man she remembered, yet she refused to believe that was true, he still looked at her with those crystal blue eyes that clouded with passion each time their bodies touched. He was fooling himself if he thought that he no longer had feelings for her.
Things had been moving in the right direction as they sat on the sofa, their hands roaming over each other's body as the lust between them intensified. She had made her intentions quite clear when her hand found its way into his pants and he could not deny that his body had responded positively to her touch. Just as things were getting interesting, he pulled away from her forcefully and had commanded her to get out of his house, to get out of his city.
Who the hell did he think he was, talking to her like that? He had no right to speak to her in such a way, or to tell her what to do. The small vindictive voice in her head wanted to take back the words of forgiveness that she had spoken to him, a part of her wanted him to suffer for hurting her in the way that he had. She'd been given the brush off and had found it insulting, her ego and pride bruised by his emotionless dismissal of her.
Time and age had mellowed her slightly, it was obvious that John was a man who was still clearly confused about his identity, to say nothing of the complex emotions that his past lives entailed. It was doubtful that the poor man had any idea of what it was that he wanted, it was this belief that had given her the determination to put her pride to one side and fight for him. He would continue to push her away but she would not be swayed, she was not even sure herself whether it was her genuine regret that things had ended so badly between them that possessed her to want to stay, or the fact that she had never been denied anything she wanted in her life. What she wanted she would invariably get, perhaps losing herself in the chase as she battled for his heart was part of the thrill. But she would get her way, of that she was sure.
An insistent knocking at her hotel room door brought her back to reality as she found herself staring distantly into the vanity mirror of the en-suite bathroom. A small smile crossed her face as she told herself that it would be John knocking at her door, having taken the night to consider her offer and deciding to take her up on it.
Vanity compelled her to check her makeup once more as the thumping on the thin wooden door continued apace. With one final flick of her hair and a squirt of perfume, she made her way to the door, a wolfish smile on her face.
It was a smile that soon disappeared when she opened the door and found someone else entirely staring back at her.