Getting back to my Blackwater roots with a little AH :)
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I couldn't tell what was louder—the silence, the clock ticking on the wall, or my heart beating out of my chest. The doctor sat in a chair across from me, patiently waiting with his pen poised in front of his notebook. His face was eerily calm. I, on the other hand, couldn't stop fidgeting in my seat. The cushions were just a little too soft, the air conditioning a little too cold. So, this is therapy, huh?
"So…" he started, "Mrs. Uley…"
"Uh, it's Clearwater…and not Mrs. anymore. Actually, you can just call me Leah. That would be easier, I think," I answered.
"Leah," he tried. Then he nodded. "Fair enough. Shall we get started?"
My eyes trailed down to my hands. I still wasn't used to not wearing my wedding ring; after years of wearing a three-carat diamond ring on my left hand, I found that it was easier for it to be buried in the depths of my jewelry box than for me to keep pretending that—
"Is there a problem?" he asked.
"No! It's not a problem. I just…I thought I would be seeing Dr. Hale. I asked for a woman therapist on the intake form."
"I saw that," he adjusted his glasses. "Rosalie is my partner; she's on her last couple of weeks of extended maternity leave and asked me to step in for her. I hope that's alright."
I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. "I suppose so."
"Why don't you tell me why you're seeking counseling? What are you hoping to accomplish with these sessions?"
"Well…about a year ago, I found out that my husband was cheating on me with one of my close family members." I paused as I wrung my hands nervously. "And then he died in a car accident the night I found out; he was trying to find me."
"Wow, I'm so sorry to hear that. So, you're wanting to work on your grief. I'm sure it's been a rough year for you, mourning a relationship and your partner."
"Yeah, that's actually the opposite of why I'm here. I'm trying to figure out why I'm not grieving. I don't miss him and I don't know why."
The doctor's eyebrows shot up in surprise before he wrote something down in his pad. "I…wow," was all he said.
"That's not normal, is it?" I asked, rubbing my ring finger. I shot up out of my chair. "Maybe this was a bad idea. I'm so sorry for wasting your time."
"No, no, no, please," the doctor said. He set his pad down and took his glasses off of his face. "That was unprofessional of me, I apologize, Mrs—Leah. Please have a seat."
I stared at the door for a second before resigning and reseating myself. We sat quietly for a second and I let myself look at him, like really look at him. His tan skin was so flawless, I wouldn't have been surprised if he'd never had a zit in his life. His nose was set wide but paired perfectly with full lips and deep brown eyes that were framed by long lashes. And when he put his Ray Ban glasses back on, you could really see how perfectly put together his whole therapist look was. Not a hair out of place.
The doctor crossed his right foot over his left leg and started writing again. "I'll express first that there's no timeline on grief. Just because you don't miss him right now doesn't mean you won't later. I understand the hurt of his betrayal probably delayed that quite a bit. So, to say something is normal is completely subjective. That's why we're here. To give you the tools that you need to move forward. And, at any point, if you feel uncomfortable, we can stop. How does that sound?"
My shoulders relaxed a little. "Ok…yeah, that sounds good." I pursed my lips as I looked into his eyes for the first time. "Can I just make a request?"
"Anything," he nodded. His white button-down shirt and dark grey slacks were pressed to perfection.
"Can you just…slouch a little?"
He blinked and his eyebrows furrowed a little. "I'm sorry?"
"You're very stiff. Loosen up. I know you're a doctor, but I can't relax if you're not relaxed."
He chuckled a little before uncrossing his legs and dropping his notepad on the ground. I watched as he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and kicked off his shoes once he saw me set my four-inch heels beside me. I pulled the bobby pins out of the tight bun on the back of my head and let my thick, wavy, raven hair drop down my back. I almost didn't see the doctor watch me run my hands through it, but he very quickly averted his eyes. Sighing, I slipped off of the chair and onto the floor, crossing my ankles. We met eyes as I silently waited for him to follow suit. He did. "Well, this is not very common practice for me, but I guess there's a first time for everything," he said with a smile. "I'm going to start off with some basic questions, alright?"
I nodded, already feeling more relaxed.
"How long were you and your husband together?"
"8 years. We met in high school and got married right after college. We were married for 2 years when he died."
"Kids?"
"Just one," I said, smiling. "A little girl. Aria."
"And how is she adjusting to things?"
"She has her moments, for sure," I nodded. "But it was just me and her before he died and it's still me and her now. Sam—that's my husband…ex-husband?—he worked late hours. Or so he told me. But Aria is a fighter; she knows things are different, but she's always been a good kid."
He was thoughtful as he took notes. "What do you do for work, Miss Clearwater?"
"Leah," I corrected. "I'm a writer at the Seattle Times."
"Very impressive," he said, his eyebrow raising slightly. "Do you like your job?"
"It's the dream," I said, a little sarcastically. "I always wanted to write a novel, but Sam didn't think that would bring in enough money. And then when we had Aria, I really didn't have time to write except for work."
The doctor made a small hum sound. "We can come back to that later. Why don't you tell me, if you're comfortable, about when you found out he was cheating on you?"
My arms instinctively and defensively crossed over my chest. I looked the doctor in the eye and said, "You sure?"
"Of course," he said. He didn't break eye contact with me for even a second.
"Ok…"
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We were all running late that morning. Sam worked in finance, so running late was unacceptable to him. As we raced around our high-rise apartment, all I wanted was to get the three of us out the door without an argument. "I have a meeting with my editor that might run late," I told Sam as I buttoned Aria into her rain coat. She pushed her wild curls away from her face before taking a bite of the pop tart in her hand. "I already let the daycare know that we might be running late today so I'll just text you when I get done with my meeting."
"Sounds good, babe," Sam said, distraction evident in his voice. He was texting, tie undone, clearly not present. I stood up and walked until I was right in front of him. I knotted his tie perfectly as he set his phone on the counter facedown next to mine. He furrowed his brows. "It just looks like it'll be a late night for me too. Why not just drop Aria off at your brother's?"
"Seth has a job. So does his boyfriend. We can't just drop off a kid and say, 'We may be back later.' That's not right," I reminded him. I sighed. "I'll just ask Tony to move our meeting up so I can leave on time. Don't worry about it."
"Fine."
I stopped in my tracks and looked at my husband. "Are you listening to me right now or no?"
"Huh? Oh…I'm sorry, Lee Lee," Sam shook his head. "I just have a lot on my plate right now."
"It's ok," I assured him. "What time will you be home?"
He sighed. "Hopefully, before 10."
"10 at night?"
"Look, we can talk about it tonight when I get back. But we need to leave before I'm late for my first client." He popped a quick kiss on my lips as he adjusted his tie. "Let's go, little duck!" I watched Sam scoop up our daughter and pepper her face with kisses. She giggled and shrieked with glee.
I grabbed both of our cell phones off of the counter and my purse before we all rushed to the door.
The three of us poured out of our apartment and into the elevator where it took us from the 23rd floor to the underground garage. Sam always liked to be a little flashy; the lights of his Mercedes-Benz were bright as the sun as he hit the automatic starter. It wasn't practical. There was just barely enough room for a car seat, but he had insisted that it was better for business. I, on the other hand, refused the BMW X4 and fell in love with a red Jeep Compass that I found on a used car lot. It only had 10,000 miles on it and it barely had a scratch on it, I couldn't resist. Sam carried Aria to the back-passenger side of my car and got her all buckled in. "I love you," Aria said in her tiny voice. She looked up at him with wide brown eyes.
"I love you too, duck," he replied before kissing her again. He turned around as he patted his pockets. "Did you grab my phone?"
"Oh, yeah," I said, handing him the phone in my right hand as my left fished around for my keys. "Have a good day, honey."
He pocketed the phone without looking at it and kissed me goodbye. It almost tasted like obligation.
I can definitely say that the newsroom was as fast paced and exciting as you see in the movies. So many people running around as a story breaks, our fact checkers working overtime, editors yelling orders. Especially considering it was election season, every single reporter on the political beat was getting slammed. I was on the entertainment beat, which meant that I could stroll into the newsroom, sit at my desk, and write about books, movies, music. Everything fun. I wanted to write a novel, and, I know I know, this isn't the best way to keep my skills sharp, but it was hard to find the time when I wasn't working or taking care of Aria or making sure I was being a good wife.
"Delivery," I heard behind me. I spun my chair around right as my good friend Rachel with a file folder in her hand. She held it up then out to me. "Tony asked me to give you your edits. He's on a bit of a rampage this morning."
"Great," I sighed, opening the folder. Red pen everywhere. It was just a fluff piece on social media and the way it influences book sales; I'd stayed up pretty late working on it. I closed the folder and turned to Rachel as she sat in the workspace next to me. "I need caffeine. Do you want to grab coffee downstairs?"
"I shouldn't," she pouted. Then she shrugged with a grin. "But we should always treat ourselves. Let's go!"
Rachel Black and I came into the job at the same time. We were both fresh faced 22 year olds, fresh out of college, and became best friends almost instantly. She was right there in the private bathroom, holding my giant water bottle that I'd emptied in under 5 minutes, while I took my first pregnancy test. She was the third person to see Aria after we got home from the hospital.
We started to make our way out of the newsroom when I stopped in my tracks. "Oh! I forgot my badge, hold on a sec."
I went back over to my purse and crouched down to dig through it. And my phone vibrated right as I grabbed my scan card. Except it wasn't my phone. It was Sam's. "Lee, come on," Rachel called.
"I'm coming," I said, pocketing my ID. I flipped Sam's phone over in my hand, trying to make sense how I got them mixed up. And then I looked at the home screen.
1 text message from Emily Young 9:25
1 picture from Emily Young 9:52
2 text messages from Walter Brian 10:04
1 text message from Randy Wilson 10:22
1 video from Emily Young 10:30
Walter and Randy were Sam's coworkers. Emily Young…was my cousin. She babysat for us a lot so it wouldn't be totally unusual for her to be texting my husband. Every once and a while, she'll send me pictures of my daughter that she took while she was watching her. Emily was the closest thing I had to a sister, and when she moved to the city with us from our small Native reservations, it was the best thing ever. It was like I didn't even need to miss home because my favorite parts of home were with me. But there was just this feeling in my gut…
"What's wrong?" Rachel asked me while we waited in line for Starbucks. I was staring at Sam's locked phone with these three message notifications.
"I…nothing. It's nothing," I said, shaking my head. I stuck the phone in my pocket and put on a smile. "How was your date, Rach?" I asked.
"Oh," she blushed. "It was good. He's…so different than I expected."
My friend, Bry, is a bar owner, and Rachel and I ended up at his bar one night where Rachel met Paul, one of the bartenders. He was that type of charming, rough edged guy that was so completely opposite of Rachel's optimistic sunshine personality. But it works. They flirted back and forth for a few weeks before she finally braved up to ask him out. They just had their first date. "That's a good thing, right?" I asked, bumping her shoulder. "Come on, give me details. I'm an old married lady."
"Oh my god, Leah," she laughed as she rolled her eyes. "So he picked me up from my apartment with the most beautiful bouquet of white roses. And he's so cute—he looked so nervous to give them to me!" We stepped up to the counter. "Hi, can we get two grande oat milk lattes with brown sugar syrup? Thanks," she beamed at the barista before she paid for both of our drinks on her corporate card. "We went to that boathouse place that overlooks the harbor. And then he took me to see some live music and we danced and it was all so…" she swooned as she trailed off. "And then we went back to my place for a nightcap."
"A nightcap?" I repeated, smirking. "You took him home on the first date?"
"Nothing happened," she playfully hit my shoulder. "We talked. All night. About everything. We talked until the sun came up and then we fell asleep. And he made me breakfast the next morning."
"Aww Rach," I crooned. "That sounds amazing. I mean, I'm not surprised. He and Bry have been friends for years; if Paul was an asshole, Bry would have told us."
"That's true," Rachel sighed. She picked up our drinks and handed me mine. "Now what's going on with you? You looked so serious, staring at your phone."
I shook my head. We were walking back to the elevators. "No, it's nothing. I grabbed Sam's phone by mistake. He's probably freaking out."
"What? It's not like you'll lose it or something," Rachel retorted with a shrug. It vibrated again in my pocket. I took it out to look.
1 new text message from Emily Young
My stomach dropped a little. I cleared my throat. "Hypothetically…" I started. "Could anything good come from your cousin sending multiple texts and pictures to your husband?"
I looked up at Rachel and she had wide eyes and a paling face. "Do you want the real answer or…the optimistic answer?"
We rushed into the bathroom, the same one where I found out that I was having my daughter, and locked the door. Sam's phone sat in my hand between us like we had just discovered a foreign object. Never, in the entirety of our relationship, had I ever gone through Sam's phone. He and I had a mutual understanding that we couldn't work without trust. So I never fished for information. Because when you look for a problem, you find one.
It lit up. 1 new text message from Emily Young
But what happens if a problem appears right in front of your face?
"Open it," Rachel pressed.
I swallowed hard before typing into the keypad 0517. Aria's birthday. It opened right up.
The last text she sent was is everything alright?
Right before that was that too much?
I scrolled right past the video to see a picture of Emily just wearing a sheet, posing in front of the full length mirror in her bedroom. And a text right before that said well I have a little treat for you this morning
And the treat in question? A video that starts off with my cousin—my sister—giggling into the camera as she situates it between her legs. And then very seductively pulls her panties to the side and begins to touch herself— "Alright," I said, slamming it on the counter. My ears were ringing and my body ran ice cold. But the video was still going. I could hear her moaning my husband's name. I started to pace as Rachel rushed to stop the video. Putting my hands on my head, I took three sharp deep breaths before whisper shouting, "Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Oh, Lee, I'm so sorry." A knock came to the bathroom door. "There's someone in here!" Rachel called then looked back at me. "What do you need? How can I help?"
I couldn't even answer. I just kept pacing, hoping that it was actually just some sick joke. Or a dream. Was it a dream? My chest was tightening every second as the video replayed in my head over and over and over again. "I need to get out of here," I huffed. Rachel started fanning me with her hands.
"Here, sit down," she guided me to the closed toilet and made me settle. She was taking deep breaths to get me to follow along. "Remember Lamaze breathing? Hee hee hooooo! Hee hee hoooo!"
"That's not helping!" I exclaimed, waving her flailing hands away. My eyes pricked with tears, but they never came. Instead I just sat there deep breathing like an idiot, wondering…what did I do wrong? I looked at Rachel. "I need to know what else is on that phone."
Her eyes widened. "No, Leah, I don't think that's a good idea."
"Rach," I huffed. "It can't get any worse than what we just saw."
It did. It got much worse. We're talking months and months worth of text messages, photos, and videos. I told her I had to meet Walter for dinner, and god I can't wait to be in arms later, and you can just bring A here if you can't find a sitter.
So many I miss yous and I love yous as if this was a completely normal relationship between the two of them. As if they weren't my closest cousin and my husband. The man I devoted my life to. The man who vowed to love me till death do us part. Rachel and I scrolled hundreds and hundreds of messages until we found The One. The one that started it all.
Emily: I want to say what we did was a mistake but I can't stop thinking about it.
I can't stop thinking about you, Sam. I know it was wrong but…was it really?
That was the day of Aria's first birthday party. Sam and I had gotten into a massive fight about when we wanted another kid. He thought that there was nothing wrong with starting to try right then and I told him I had no interest in taking care of two babies that close in age. He blew up at me that day. Saying that I never cared about the things he wanted and that it wasn't fair that I could just change my mind about babies like that. But, in actuality, I was taking care of Aria primarily by myself. Sam wanted this picture perfect family, but couldn't be bothered to be home for bedtime or bath time or to play with his daughter. That was all me.
I was resting my forehead in my palm as I took it all in. "Fuck…" I whispered.
"What do you need?" Rachel asked again.
I shook my head, unsure how to answer her. The phone buzzed in my hand. It was an incoming call from me. Well…from Sam from my phone.
"Motherfucker…" I cursed, throwing dagger eyes at the phone as I let it ring until it stopped. I shot to my feet. "I need to go get Aria."
"Where are you going?"
"I don't know," I sighed, unlocking the bathroom door. "I just need to get out of here. Can you tell Tony I had a family emergency?"
"Sure, babe." Rachel looked concerned as I rushed out of the bathroom.
When I was driving, it was kind of like being on autopilot. The daycare workers were so sweet and understanding that I needed to pick my daughter up early. Aria was telling me all about how her friend at daycare brought her her favorite Barbie while I drove us home while trying to show it to me. I looked at it in the rear view and smiled at her. "It's pretty, baby," I said, a small quiver in my voice. "Make sure you keep it in your backpack so you don't lose it, ok?"
She chattered on and on as we drove home. And as I unbuckled her from the car seat. And as we rode up the elevator. It's the hardest thing in the world to feel engaged with your child when your life is falling apart. When we got into the house, it felt as cold as he'd been this morning. I blinked the tears away before crouching down to Aria's height. "Alright, baby, do you want to play a fun game?"
Her face lit up. "Yeah!"
I grinned at her excitement. "Ok, we're going to play a scavenger hunt. I want you to find five—" I held up five fingers, "—of your cutest school dresses and bring them up to my room as fast as you can!"
"Ok!" And off she ran. And I did the same. I swung open the closet and grabbed the closest suitcase. It didn't matter what I was packing, I was just throwing whatever I could into a bag as fast as I could.
I grabbed Sam's phone again and dialed my brother. He answered on the second ring. "Hey, Sam, what's up?"
"Seth, it's me," I said in a quiet tone.
"Leah? Are you ok? What's wrong?" I couldn't remember if this was one of his work from home days or not. I finally slowed down enough and felt the tears flow down my face. Sitting on the bed, everything just came barreling forward. "Lee? What's going on?"
I sniffled pathetically. "Are you at home today?"
"Yeah, it's Tuesday."
"Can I come over?"
"Of course, Leah," I could hear the concern in his voice, the questions. But he didn't ask.
Aria came running in with her favorite dresses and immediately stopped in her tracks when she saw me crying. "Mommy?"
I wiped my tears quickly. "I'm ok, baby," I smiled at her. "Do you want to see Uncle Seth today?"
She nodded but I could still see the worry in her big brown eyes. We played 'scavenger hunt' a few more times while I talked to my brother; once to get all of her shoes, once to get her toothbrush, and once to get three of her favorite toys. "I can't do this anymore," I whispered to Seth. "I can't be with him. He's so cold and he can't even bother to spend time with his kid. And he's—," say it. "He's…" just say it. He's cheating on me. I sighed as I zipped up my suitcase. "Never mind. I'm on my way."
"Lee," my brother said in that tone to make me stop in my tracks. "Do I need to be worried?"
"No, of course not."
When we hung up, I stood at the kitchen counter that I was just at this morning, as I had been every single morning for 4 years, tying my husband's tie and sending him off to work. My ring all of a sudden felt so heavy on my finger. It was always too big for my taste anyway. So I took it off and I opened a group chat with my own phone and Emily and just said one thing: you're both dead to me
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"You can stay with us as long as you need," Seth told me as he set our suitcase next to the bed in his guest room. "God, I can't believe Sam would do this."
I didn't tell him that the girl in the video was none other than our dear cousin. I couldn't. My brother Seth was a year and a half younger than me and still looked at things with a sunny outlook on life. It worked well for him. He believed so strongly in people that I never had the heart to give him the full truth because I didn't want to take that belief away from him. So I just told him Sam cheated. Plain and simple. "Thanks, Seth," I sighed.
"Do you need anything, Leah? Some water?" Derek asked. Derek was Seth's boyfriend of the last couple of years. He was tall, dark, and handsome in every way you'd think. They met at a coffee shop, how cute and cliche is that? Derek owns the tattoo shop next door to the place and Seth had wandered in on his lunch break. And they ordered the same dark roast with almond milk.
"I'm alright," I smiled at him. "Thank you though."
"What do you need?" Seth asked as Derek closed the door behind him. I just rubbed my daughter's back as she snoozed in my lap. She'd fallen asleep on the hour car ride to my brother's and I knew if she woke up now, she'd be up all night.
"Um…" I vocalized as I thought about it. I didn't really know what I needed. "Can you watch Aria tonight? I think I might go to Bry's for a bit."
"Of course. Take my phone."
I'd known Bry since middle school. He was one of my closest friends and I think the only person who really truly understood my dynamic with Sam. He didn't always approve of the way that Sam would treat me, but I'd told him a million times that it was alright. That I knew what I was signing up for by being with him. I told Bry for years that, when we were good, Sam was the most loving partner; he made me feel seen and taken care of. But that hadn't been the case for a long time…and now I know why. But I know my friend. And he would never throw this in my face the way other people would.
I found a parking spot right at the door behind the bar. It's technically employees only, but Bry always said that I was the special exception. The honorary Bry's employee.
"Oh shit, is that Sassy?!" I heard over the juke. Bry's whole face lit up as soon as he spotted me. Sassy was an old nickname. And I mean old. Like as old as time. He was pouring a draft beer for one of his regulars.
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The doctor interrupted me. "Sassy?" he repeated.
"Yeah," I said, scrunching up my face. "You know that thing that kids do in middle school where they have to assign some kind of personality trait to each other? Someone's bossy, someone's 'emo', someone's…whatever? I was deemed sassy…and it just kind of stuck. Bry—Embry is his real name, I just call him Bry—is the only person to ever call me that."
His face was unreadable, as if he was trying to work something out in his head. He blinked himself out of it, scribbling something down and then saying, "Sorry, go ahead."
"Anyway…"
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"Gin and tonic for my favorite girl," Embry grinned at me. I sat directly in front of him without a word. "What are you doing out on a school night, Sass?"
"Figured I'm overdue to see you," I said with a shrug and a small smile. I took a small sip of my drink before letting my eyes settle on the bar instead of on my friend.
"Uh oh," he said. "I know that face. That's the 'Sam fucked up' look. What did he do?"
I don't know what it was. Maybe it was being in front of the one person that understood who I was and who my husband was in such an unfiltered, uncensored type of way, and it was really hitting me hard that my marriage was over. Maybe it was years of ignoring every snide comment, every time he missed bedtime, every time he picked work over me and his daughter, every instance he casually and cruelly stomped on my dreams of becoming a novelist. Maybe it was all of those things. Or none of them. I really didn't know. But I started to tear up. And then I was bawling my eyes out. Like tears in my gin and tonic.
"Oh shit…" Embry said under his breath. "Quil, watch the bar." He came around the solid oak wood bartop and wrapped me into the tightest hug he could manage. No questions. That's what I loved about Bry. He was always going to comfort you first and then figure out what's wrong later. "Come on," he said, leading me by the back to his storage room.
I told him everything. About the videos, the pictures, the text messages. I told him the timeline and then, before I knew it, I was connecting my own dots of when my husband had fully checked out of our relationship to be with my cousin. Embry listened to me word vomit about how Emily had smiled in my face for months, knowing that she'd been having sex with the man I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with. And he just listened. He nodded, sympathetically. He moved my hair out of my face when it started to stick to my face from the tears. "I hate him," I hiccuped. "I hate him. I hate him. I hate him."
"I'm so sorry, Leah," he said quietly. "Look, fuck Sam. If he wants to be stupid enough to throw away one of the most spectacular girls to ever live—,"
"Bry, please be serious," I interrupted, rolling my eyes.
"I am being serious," he chuckled. He tilted my chin up so I would look him in the eye. "Leah, you've given him everything. You gave him a beautiful life with a gorgeous daughter, and you gave up so much to do that for him. If he can't see everything you've done for him, then he's not worth it. He's definitely not worth these tears, Sass. This doesn't have to be a bad thing, if you don't want it to be."
"What is it then?" I asked, sniffling. It was dark in the storage room. There was only a single bulb with the ugliest white lighting hanging from the ceiling. But I could see his most sincere smile, pearly, perfect teeth.
"It's an opportunity," he said simply. "A chance for you and Aria to live the life you want. Not the life that he wanted."
He sat next to me on a box. I rested my head on his shoulder. "I know you're right…"
"You don't have to believe me right now. But think about it. You could finally buy that little cottage core house that you've always wanted. A yard. No more high rise apartment. You could finish writing your novel and however many more you want after that. Trust me, Leah, he did you a favor." Embry popped a kiss on the top of my head. "Have you talked to him?"
I shook my head. "I packed us up as fast as I could and dropped the baby off at Seth's and then I came straight here."
"Good," he nodded. Bry patted me on the knee before helping both of us stand. "A newly single lady should be having fun tonight. Your drinks are on me tonight. Just don't get too crazy."
"You always pay for my drinks," I point out as we walked back out to the bar.
"I know the owner; he's cool with it," he winked at me. When I sat back down, there was a coaster on top of my glass and a man sitting on the stool next to me. He was nursing an old fashioned while he gazed at the football game on the tv over Quil's head. I sat down with a small sigh. My head hurt; I was so sure that I was puffy beyond reason.
The man glanced at me before looking at the tv again. "I watched your drink for you," he said, "just in case you were coming back for it."
"Thanks," I muttered, sliding the coaster off the top of it. Embry had busied himself with a couple of customers while Quil was making drinks. I reached over the bar and grabbed a glass to fill with water.
"Uh, are you supposed to do that?" the man asked. He was fully focused on me now.
"I know the owner; he's cool with it," I repeated Bry's words with ease. He finished off his drink with a skeptical shrug. "You need another? I can take care of that for you."
His brow furrowed as he mumbled an uncertain, "Sure…"
I don't know what it was, but I wanted so badly to just abandon all thoughts of Sam and just pretend to be someone else that night. Or rather pretend to be the version of myself I'd always wanted to be. So I hopped up on the bar to skip to the other side. "Maker's?" I asked the stranger.
"Woodford," he corrected, an amused smirk appearing on his face.
I hummed. "A man of good taste," I complimented. "I prefer Widow Jane myself, but Woodford is an excellent choice."
I made myself make eye contact with this stranger. He had really kind eyes. So kind that they almost twinkled. His smile was easy as he watched on. And he was wearing a very expensive black leather jacket with a crisp white t-shirt on under it. "You know a lot about bourbon?" he asked.
"I used to bartend in college," I told him. I made his drink with ease and set it in front of him. Embry came up behind me, placing his hands on the tabletop on either side of me. "Plus, I had a good teacher," I said.
"You talking about me again, Sass?" Bry joked. He nodded at the man. "Good to see you, my man! You haven't been around in a while."
The stranger sighed and shook his head. "Yeah, it's been crazy at work lately. I needed a bit of a break," he said. Then he gestured to the Manila folder next to him. "Or, at least, I needed a drink to handle more work."
"You work too hard, bro," Embry shook his head. "The booth in the back is free, if you need some extra space."
"Thanks, man," he nodded. Then he looked at me. "And thanks for the old fashioned. It's damn near perfect."
The stranger took his drink and folder and slipped into the back booth without another word. I watched after him for a second, intrigued, before turning to Bry. "Who is that guy?" I asked.
"Who, Jake?"
"Yeah, I've never seen him in here before."
"He's cool; he moved out here about a year ago, I think? His new office is a couple blocks down the road." I glanced at the back booth again before grabbing my drink and dumping it in the sink. "You know you're not supposed to be back here," he bumped my hip.
"I just want to make myself a new drink; I cried in mine."
"Alright, but make it quick. And change the song when you're done," he said before walking away.
I was sipping on my freshened drink and grooving to the music when my brother's phone started ringing in my back pocket. It was Sam. He had also texted Seth hey bro, do you know where Leah is? I need to talk to her
I shut it off and left it behind the bar. I hummed along with The Rolling Stones song as I walked over to the juke. Flipping through the albums, I told myself it wasn't worth it to respond. He wasn't worth my peace and sanity. I had a baby to think about; I didn't have the time to lose my mind over this.
"So what's your name?"
The man was halfway through his second drink and had some reading glasses perched on his nose. His papers were scattered across the table, but he was laser focused on me. My mouth twitched up. "I don't have a name."
"Oh, you don't?" His eyebrows shot up.
"I don't need to have one," I smirked before turning back to the juke. I picked an old Mac Miller song.
The man was really handsome. Actually, he was gorgeous. He flashed a perfect smile before raising his glass to his full lips. He gestured to the middle of the round booth. Should I? The liquid courage was starting to course through me a lot quicker than I anticipated. Fuck Sam. He gathered up his papers into its folder and waved again to the empty space next to him.
When I slipped into the booth, I became another person. Someone without familial responsibility or a dead end job or a backstabbing, husband fucking cousin. I could be whoever I wanted to be that night. And, that night, I couldn't be Leah Uley. Maybe I could be Leah Clearwater again. A version of myself that existed before Sam. Or a version of myself that might have existed if I never married Sam. Or maybe even someone else entirely. I wanted to be brave and mysterious and sexy and desirable. I needed to be.
"I'm Jake," he introduced himself.
"I know," I replied coolly.
"So you know me," he mused, "and I don't know you. How is that fair?"
"Fairness is an illusion," I joked.
He chuckled a little. "Alright, Mystery Girl," he took another sip. "How long have you known Embry?" he asked.
"Since we were practically babies. We grew up on a reservation together a few hours outside of the city. And kind of just followed each other out here after college."
"That's so cool. And how long have you guys been together?"
"Together?" My eyes widened. "Me and Bry?" Jake nodded. "Oh, never. We've never—that's not even—no…we're not together."
"He must not be very smart then; if I had a girl as beautiful as you right in front of me my whole life, I would have done something about it," he winked.
Well, stranger, I'm sure my husband would have had a problem with that. I felt my face flush a little under the gaze of this man. "You're very sweet, thank you," I said with a little giggle. "You don't have to say that though."
"I'm not saying anything that isn't true," he stated simply. There was something very calming about his presence; I don't know what it was. He made me want to talk. His head tilted a little as he examined me. "You look like you've had a bit of a rough day."
I snorted a little before taking a big sip from my straw. "You have no idea."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"Actually, I'd love nothing more than to stop talking about it," I admitted.
"Fair enough," he said, looking at me with soft eyes. "You deserve a good night then. Let's make that happen."
He was funny and attentive and…I loved hearing him talk. Under the haze of alcohol and the low lights of the bar and the energy of the people around us, I felt so much looser. A lot of that had to do with Jake and his calming aura.
He grew up on a reservation too, I found out. Makah, which is where my husband fucking cousin is from. I didn't mention Emily for absolute fear that I would start crying again. "My partner and I moved out here about a year ago," he told me.
"Partner," I repeated with a little surprise.
He smiled, unbothered. "My business partner," he corrected.
"Ah," I nodded. Noted.
He asked me about my novel. "What's stopping you from finishing it?"
I bit my lip and looked at the table, away from his penetrating gaze. He placed a gentle hand on my cheek and brought me back to him. I noticed at that moment that we had been slowly been inching closer to each other throughout the night. "I don't know…I just don't think I've found the ending that I love yet."
"Are you sure it's not something else?" he asked. "Maybe someone isn't giving you the support you need and it's halting your process."
I didn't say anything. I felt my jaw clench as Sam's face flashed across my mind.
"How long were you married?" he asked out of the blue.
I reared back. "What?" My stomach flipped in a second. "How did you know that?"
Jake picked up my left hand and started to stroke my ring finger with his thumb. "You still have a ring tan line," he said. He kept stroking the spot; it was distracting. I watched as he brought it up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss right where my ring lay for years. "You don't have to talk about it."
"It's, um, still fresh," I told him. He nodded and didn't ask any more follow up questions.
"I love this song," he said, glancing away from me and to the jukebox.
I wanna stay with you until we're grey and old
Just say you won't let go
Just say you won't let go…
My entire body froze. It was our wedding song. This very cute couple were slow dancing a few feet away from us. They looked so blissful. "Me too…" I said.
"You know, there's something so beautiful about the way our souls connect with other people's words," he said. "What do you think their story is?"
We watched the couple slow dance for a few moments. The young girl placed her head on her person's chest as they swayed back and forth.
"They could be falling in love right now," I said. Then all of a sudden, Jake wasn't looking at them anymore. He was looking at me. I could feel his eyes on me.
I wanna live with you
Even when we're ghosts…
When he kissed me, it was like something woke up inside of me. His hands were so warm as he held my face. His lips tasted like bourbon and his cologne was intoxicating. I could feel him all over me. And I wanted more. I remember pressing my body to his as I let his tongue explore my mouth. This man—this stranger—Jake was so much of what I'd never had before. And I was a little drunk on him. "Do you wanna get out of here?" I asked against his lips.
He broke away from me and searched my face. "Are you sure?" he asked. I nodded. His nose brushed against mine as he closed the space between us again. I welcomed every kiss, every small touch, everything.
We stumbled out of the bar in a lustful rush and as soon as we were outside of the building, Jake pressed me up against the brick wall and kissed me breathless. I let my hands glide down from his neck to his firm pecs to the abs I could feel rippling through his shirt and down to his—
XXXXXXXXX
"—are you sure you want to hear this?" I halted myself.
The doctor looked a little flushed but he nodded anyway. "Yes, you can continue," he said. He'd all but abandoned his notes altogether and was fully focused on me.
I swallowed softly. "Ok…"
XXXXXXXXX
Jake didn't live far from Bry's bar. Half a block, to be exact. He didn't touch me the rest of the walk there, almost intentionally so. As if he was giving me the space to decide to back out or not. But even as we were walking up the steps to his second floor loft, there was never a second where I was regretful of leaving with Jake.
If anything, him being so considerate only made me want to fuck him more.
So, as soon as the door closed, I was pressed up against it in a second. He kissed me again fiercely, burying his hands in my hair. "God, you're beautiful," he whispered.
"Stop talking," I told him as I reached for his belt buckle. He kicked off his shoes as I dropped his pants at his ankles. He threw his leather jacket on the ground and stopped kissing me for a single second to rip off his shirt.
Jake reached for the bottom of my dress and my hands immediately grabbed to stop him. My little baby daughter came to mind and I felt my heart start to race a little bit. But not for the reason you might think. I remember after I had Aria, I started to feel so insecure about the way pregnancy changed my body. And it drastically changed my sex life with Sam, that's for goddamn sure. I worked really hard to 'bounce back' or whatever, but that didn't change the way I looked at my stretch marks. Or the way my husband looked at my stretch marks. "Are you ok?" he asked.
I met his eye and tried to catch my breath. You're never going to see this man again, I thought. "Yeah," I nodded, "I'm alright. Sorry."
Lifting my arms, I braced for that moment of exposing myself. He was gentle. He tossed my dress to the side and kissed me again before dipping into my neck. His hands slid over the swell of my ass. "Is this ok?" he whispered. I nodded again, a sigh escaping my lips. One of his hands gripped my ass as the other one slipped under the band of my panties. I cursed under my breath as he started to play with me. "I'll stop if you want me to," he said before flicking his tongue around my nipple.
"Don't," I told him. He dropped to his knees in front of me. My eyes closed as soon as he did it. Because I didn't need to see him see my body. Then I felt him place a soft kiss on my belly. He kissed my belly over and over again as he guided my panties down my legs. He continued to play with my pussy before letting his tongue find my clit. "Oh shit," I gasped as my head fell back onto the door.
Jake hoisted my leg over his shoulder and devoured me with his mouth. He groaned, sending a shocking vibration up my body. His tongue danced around my wet core. "Fuck, how do you taste so good?"
I couldn't focus on anything other than his mouth on me. The moans were climbing out of my throat, louder and louder as I got closer to cumming. I reached down and grabbed a fistful of his hair. It was so thick and soft between my fingers. I was so close to an orgasm; I could feel my toes curling under me. "Oh my god, I'm gonna…I'm gonna…"
Jake took his mouth away in an instant. "Not yet, baby," he said, kissing me. He lifted me until my legs wrapped around his waist and he carried me to the bedroom. My back hit the soft mattress. Then we both took a second to breathe. And think. Like really think. Jake brushed the hair out of my face and…he was just looking at me. Gazing at me. "Who are you?" he asked.
Instead of answering, I pulled his face to mine, shutting my eyes tight as his hands explored my body. Jake reached over to his nightstand to grab protection. His lips ghosted over my neck and chest as he rolled the condom over himself. I reached between us to stroke his hard dick. Guiding him to my opening, I welcomed his weight on top of me. "Fuck me," I gasped out.
And he did.
Sex with Jake was so different from sex with Sam. Sam was safe and…most times, wildly uncreative. I thought that's just what happened when you've been with someone for so many years.
Jake listened to my body in a way I'd never imagined. We moved together like magic. He hit every spot—ones I knew about and every single one I didn't—and didn't dare to stop when he knew it felt good. He whispered in my ear, "God, you take me so well," and I just about exploded on the spot. He moved with me at every arch of my back, every time I met his stroke, and every time I told him harder, faster, deeper.
This wasn't me. I wasn't the type to just fuck a random guy that I just met. But I had to acknowledge that the energy between us was something I'd never experienced. And as we came together, I saw stars.
XXXXXXXXX
Beep beep beep. Beep beep beep. We both kind of snapped out of it at the sound. The doctor shot to his feet to find the timer on his desk. He clicked it off as he cleared his throat. "Um, unfortunately, we are out of time for this session."
"Wow. That was so fast," I said. The doctor stood up quickly and crossed to the other side of the room. He busied himself at his desk as I slipped back into my heels and pulled my hair into a neat ponytail. "So what now?" I asked.
"Well…" he cleared his throat. "If you're comfortable counseling with me until Rosalie comes back, I can put you down for a session a week."
I scratched the back of my neck, a little uncomfortable. "Uh, sure. That should be fine."
He nodded. "Great." The doctor hesitated but reached out to shake my hand. "It was great talking with you," he stopped himself before he stated correctly, "Leah. I've got you on the books for the same time next week. Have a great weekend and I'll see you soon."
I looked down at his hand. Swallowing hard, I shook it, shoving away the familiarity of the strength of his hands. I smiled tightly. "Thanks so much, Dr. Black. See you next week."
