I had been shaking, on the verge of tears or my first panic attack as my boyfriend smiled at his wife and introduced me as an old friend from school. She tried to take my hand, but I couldn’t offer it.
I wanted to die. He had made me the other woman.
I hadn’t seen or talked to Wes since and I had zero plans on doing either one ever again. I hated him. He made me sick.
He broke my heart.
“What are you doing here?” I half questioned, half cried in his face as I stepped closer so he wouldn’t enter. “Get off of my property,” I hissed. “You aren’t welcome here, Wes.”
“Calm down, Tor. I get why you’re upset. I do,” he replied, sounding sincere as he straightened. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I really didn’t want it to go down like that. Honest. That sucked for me.”
“Excuse me?” I snapped. “It sucked for you?”
What a dick!
“Yeah, so I get why you’re pissed right now,” he returned.
“You get nothing.”
Wes stepped closer, trying to move inside, and when I didn’t step back or away to give him room, he sighed and cocked his head. “You have no idea what I’ve been dealing with. Kim was suspicious before. Then meeting you like that? Come on. Why do you think I’ve been staying away? She’s been all over my shit.”
“You have a wife, Wes. She should be all over your shit. It’s hers!”
“Don’t be like that,” he said, looking almost apologetic. “I’ve missed you, sugar. It’s been hell. You know how bad I’ve been wanting to come over here or call? She was even checking my phone. I couldn’t do shit.”
“Don’t call me sugar or anything else you might call your wife,” I snapped, sliding my hand up the side of the door and readying to slam it. “I never would’ve gotten involved with you if I had known you were married. I cannot believe you kept that from me.”
“Fucked you on our second date. If I told you I was married after that, knowing how good that was, would it have mattered?” he questioned.
I flinched, unprepared for that accusation.
“Of course it would’ve mattered,” I shot back. “You’re married. I never would’ve let it happen again. I would’ve ended it.”
“After the sex we had? The way I worked you? Come on.” He tilted his head and breathed a laugh as his arms crossed over his chest. “I took your ass and had you coming so hard you nearly passed out. You told me you’d never been fucked like that before. Is that still true?” His eyebrows lifted.
I pinched my lips together and felt my face burn hot.
“It is, ain’t it?” he asked, smiling darkly. “Probably had plenty of opportunity since I’ve been away but you didn’t take it. Why?”
“Get off of my property,” I snarled, tipping forward.
“You didn’t take it ’cause you’re wanting it from me,” he said, ignoring my command. “No one else. It doesn’t matter I’m married or not, you want it.”
“Leave, Wes.” My voice shook. I felt my lip tremble. “I mean it. You need to leave.”
Wes moved closer, stepping up so he was filling the doorway and our bodies were grazing each other’s. “You want to fuck,” he growled, looking down at me. “That’s what you really want, and you’re in luck, sugar, ’cause that’s exactly what I’m here to do.”
I felt his hand on my hip, squeezing the same spot Jamie had been gripping, and something snapped inside me, breaking me open and bleeding me out.
“LEAVE!” I screamed with tears wetting my cheeks, fists flying and connecting with his chest as I pounded on it and pushed, putting all of my weight behind me. “I hate you, you fucking asshole! Get out! Get out! GET OUT!”
“Jesus. What the fuck?” Wes jerked back onto the porch. “Tori—”
I slammed the door shut and locked it, yelling, “GO! Don’t ever come back here! I don’t ever wanna see you again, you sick fuck!”
“Don’t be like this,” he pleaded, twisting the knob. “Come on, Tor. Seriously.”
“GET OUT OF HERE!”
“Hey. There a problem?”
I heard a man’s voice. It sounded like Tom, my neighbor from next door. He liked to sit on his porch at night and smoke cigars. The smell always bothered his wife.
“No, man. No problem here,” Wes answered, his voice growing softer as if he were stepping away.
“Lotta yelling going on. You sure?”
“Yeah. All good.”
I dropped the side of my head against the door and held my stomach. My throat was burning and my chest was quaking with the breaths I couldn’t seem to hold on to.
A car started, then a door closed. Wes pulled away from my house. I heard the unmistakable sound of his engine revving as he made his way down the street.
He had come here for sex. He was still married and he was still wanting me, and worse, he thought I’d still be wanting him. He thought I was that type of woman.
And he had touched me.
I still felt his hand on my hip. I started feeling Wes everywhere. Everywhere.
I was no longer feeling Jamie.
Hand to my mouth and stomach rolling, I hurried to the kitchen, where I had dumped my purse before taking a shower. I grabbed it and pulled out my keys, slid the strap up my arm to my shoulder, and made for the door, barefoot. I didn’t even bother with shoes.