dresser,
one hand resting on it, the other cupping one of the cream-colored
roses in a vase. On the dresser, near his hand, were two boxes. The
bottom one -- rectangular and white with a ribbon – looked like the
boxes my mom puts gift clothing in. The other was smaller and
didn't come from a store -- it was etched metal, the design
unrecognizable from the distance, but I'd received similar boxes
from Aiden over the years.
He seldom bought gifts for me. He made
them instead, each gift one of a kind.
I shook my head, forcing myself not to
care that he'd brought me gifts and flowers. He probably had done
the same for that woman. Hell, maybe the gift inside the box had
been made for her and I was getting it second hand.
Telling myself I would not cave, I
closed my eyes and folded my arms across my chest. I intended to
stay that way until he gave me my keys and I escaped back to my
dorm room where I could cry myself into next week.
"I guess you enjoyed your date more
than you expected."
The sadness in his voice forced my
eyes open. I met his gaze and saw my own pain reflected. It hurt
too much to look at him, so I closed them again and shook my head.
The date had been painful and awkward. I had expected to spend
today in this room, Aiden's hands on my body, his declarations of
love in my ear. He had talked about children and forever, not
adultery and sex behind office doors and breaking my heart and my
father's.
"Cece, what is it?"
The rumble of irritation made me
squeeze my eyes more tightly.
His tone gentled. "I thought I heard
happiness in your voice last night, baby girl. That you wanted to
come here today, to spend time with me…"
"I know about Pamela," I
whispered.
Sorry, daddy. I couldn't
keep it in. So, so sorry…but I won't let him know you told
me.
"Pamela…at the shop?"
He sounded confused. I opened my eyes
to see his face slowly hardening. I nodded.
"Know what?" He stopped stroking the
rose, his entire body frozen except for the shallow rise and fall
of his chest.
"You're fucking her," I bit
out.
His grip on the rose tightened, the
petals breaking from the strain. "And you know this
how?"
God, he wasn't even going
to deny it!
I rolled my lips, anger seeping in to
replace the hurt. "You can't keep the fact that you're fucking a
married woman in daddy's shop secret. Everybody knows!"
I sucked a breath in. That wasn't
true. No one knew but Pamela, Aiden, daddy, and now me. But I
couldn't have him knowing daddy told me.
"So everybody knows." He released the
rose, the rest of its petals littering the dresser. His hand fell
to his side and he took his first step toward me. "And you
believe everybody despite my telling you how crazy I am about you."
I closed my eyes again and wrapped my
arms around me in a hug.
"Tell me, Cece. Why would I say and do
those things with you if I was fucking Pamela Marks?" His voice was
nearer, maybe half the distance from the dresser to me.
I hugged my body harder, my fingers
denting my disgusting flesh, flesh I'd been stupid enough to think
Aiden desired. I shook my head, trying to communicate that I didn't
have to understand or explain his motivation.
The door shut next to me and then I
felt his chest press lightly against the barrier of my
arms.
"Why, baby?"
God, his voice was so gentle. Gentle
and hurt, but the ache was my own, a quality I was projecting onto
his tone because I didn't want to believe what that woman said was
true.
"You're not getting out of here
without an answer." His arms moved until I could feel that he
blocked me from moving on either side.
I sucked a huge breath in, knowing I
would need every last molecule of oxygen to spew the venom that had
built inside me and that I would be speechless afterwards, no fire
or fight remaining.
"Maybe you're just like the guys in
high school who wondered what Kevin saw in me, what I was hiding
under my skirt. Maybe you wanted to push me toward other guys so
I'd stop crushing on you or maybe the moment
one hand resting on it, the other cupping one of the cream-colored
roses in a vase. On the dresser, near his hand, were two boxes. The
bottom one -- rectangular and white with a ribbon – looked like the
boxes my mom puts gift clothing in. The other was smaller and
didn't come from a store -- it was etched metal, the design
unrecognizable from the distance, but I'd received similar boxes
from Aiden over the years.
He seldom bought gifts for me. He made
them instead, each gift one of a kind.
I shook my head, forcing myself not to
care that he'd brought me gifts and flowers. He probably had done
the same for that woman. Hell, maybe the gift inside the box had
been made for her and I was getting it second hand.
Telling myself I would not cave, I
closed my eyes and folded my arms across my chest. I intended to
stay that way until he gave me my keys and I escaped back to my
dorm room where I could cry myself into next week.
"I guess you enjoyed your date more
than you expected."
The sadness in his voice forced my
eyes open. I met his gaze and saw my own pain reflected. It hurt
too much to look at him, so I closed them again and shook my head.
The date had been painful and awkward. I had expected to spend
today in this room, Aiden's hands on my body, his declarations of
love in my ear. He had talked about children and forever, not
adultery and sex behind office doors and breaking my heart and my
father's.
"Cece, what is it?"
The rumble of irritation made me
squeeze my eyes more tightly.
His tone gentled. "I thought I heard
happiness in your voice last night, baby girl. That you wanted to
come here today, to spend time with me…"
"I know about Pamela," I
whispered.
Sorry, daddy. I couldn't
keep it in. So, so sorry…but I won't let him know you told
me.
"Pamela…at the shop?"
He sounded confused. I opened my eyes
to see his face slowly hardening. I nodded.
"Know what?" He stopped stroking the
rose, his entire body frozen except for the shallow rise and fall
of his chest.
"You're fucking her," I bit
out.
His grip on the rose tightened, the
petals breaking from the strain. "And you know this
how?"
God, he wasn't even going
to deny it!
I rolled my lips, anger seeping in to
replace the hurt. "You can't keep the fact that you're fucking a
married woman in daddy's shop secret. Everybody knows!"
I sucked a breath in. That wasn't
true. No one knew but Pamela, Aiden, daddy, and now me. But I
couldn't have him knowing daddy told me.
"So everybody knows." He released the
rose, the rest of its petals littering the dresser. His hand fell
to his side and he took his first step toward me. "And you
believe everybody despite my telling you how crazy I am about you."
I closed my eyes again and wrapped my
arms around me in a hug.
"Tell me, Cece. Why would I say and do
those things with you if I was fucking Pamela Marks?" His voice was
nearer, maybe half the distance from the dresser to me.
I hugged my body harder, my fingers
denting my disgusting flesh, flesh I'd been stupid enough to think
Aiden desired. I shook my head, trying to communicate that I didn't
have to understand or explain his motivation.
The door shut next to me and then I
felt his chest press lightly against the barrier of my
arms.
"Why, baby?"
God, his voice was so gentle. Gentle
and hurt, but the ache was my own, a quality I was projecting onto
his tone because I didn't want to believe what that woman said was
true.
"You're not getting out of here
without an answer." His arms moved until I could feel that he
blocked me from moving on either side.
I sucked a huge breath in, knowing I
would need every last molecule of oxygen to spew the venom that had
built inside me and that I would be speechless afterwards, no fire
or fight remaining.
"Maybe you're just like the guys in
high school who wondered what Kevin saw in me, what I was hiding
under my skirt. Maybe you wanted to push me toward other guys so
I'd stop crushing on you or maybe the moment
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