Page 3 of Embracing Love

Chapter 2

Back at her office Tanya stared at the photos on social media site where her ex-husband regularly posted pictures of his new family and their wonderful and happy life together.

The perfect three. One she’d hoped to have been a part of, but she was now sentenced to observing from the side-lines. It gnawed at her, seeing him so happy when she was so miserable without him.

She wanted to be happy for him, for that was the definition of love, wasn’t it? To make the one you loved happy?

Misery crept in when she saw he was living his new life joyously and without a thought for the carnage he’d wreaked in hers. Picking up the pieces of the wreck she’d become, had been hard. Was still hard. Hiding it from others, so that they believed she was happily getting on with her own life was harder still.

“You’re handling this so well.” They told her. “You’re such a strong woman.” They gushed, friends and family admiring her resolve, her getting-it-all-together-ness, her apparent ability to carry on as normal.

They didn’t know a thing—knew nothing of her pain. Or that her evenings were spent crumpled on the sofa with nothing but wine for company. That she sometimes made stupid choices; bad decisions when it came to men, just because she hungered for a touch, a caress, a feeling of belonging.

Of mattering to someone.

She stared at Vincent’s face—which now wore the same expression of happiness he’d had in the early days of their relationship. They’d parted as amicably as possible when the man she’d been married to for four and a half years suddenly left her in order to ‘find out what he wanted’ then later announced he no longer loved her. Oh, and that he’d now met someone else and they were going to have a child.

Taking all of these things into consideration, her split with her husband could have been worse.

And she hadn’t really left his life, even though he’d left hers. She still checked his social media pages daily; sometimes more than once a day during the times she felt unbearably sad and lonely.

He put up photos every other day, of the child, and it was almost as if Tanya had gotten to know the child that she herself was not capable of having.

A knock at the door broke her thoughts and she looked up to see temptation skulking by her door.

Luc, tall and with tousled golden brown hair, swept back just above his shoulders, looked like a footballer who had just retired from the game and had accidentally strayed into an office. He was her distraction on really bad days.

He often stared at her a little too long, and chose to speak to her in person when he could as easily have emailed her or called her or asked somebody else in the office.

He flattered her, if truth be told, because he was a good many years younger and so good looking and he made her believe that she was still desirable. Even in her early forties.

“How was it?” He asked, making himself comfortable in the chair opposite hers.

“The meeting didn’t really start. I’ve got a conference call with Thierry and Mario in the Milan office now. So, if you don’t mind.” She was thankful for the conference call; otherwise Luc wouldn’t move away in a hurry.

And she could only fend him off, push back on his subtle but persistent interest in her, when her guard was up.

Right now, she was wide open for company.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said, getting up. “I only wanted to know if Flight liked the mockups.” He’d worked with her and Nadine to put them together. As a graphic design artist he would be heavily involved in the ad work for Flight Europe.

Tanya’s eyes rested on his glossy hair and she remembered being close enough to have run her hands through it, back when she’d almost given in, and was about to make another one of her bad decisions. Almost. It had been another lonely night, and they’d been out with work colleagues and were walking home. He was so easy on the eye, and she was so flattered he’d given her his attention. That night something almost happened. But she’d had enough presence of mind to stop.

“Their head of marketing didn’t get a chance to look through them. I’m hoping we can meet again this week.”

Luc frowned. “I thought this was an important deal?”

“So did I.”

And he gave her another one of his stares, the kind of look that got her pulse ready to race. Yet she was sure he had a girlfriend or someone in the background. It didn’t matter, on days when Vincent’s social media updates caused her more pain, having a demi-God like Luc in the office did wonders for her self-esteem.

“Are you going to Thierry’s birthday?” His gray eyes rooted her with their intensity, and she heard an invite, unasked yet, but implied, in that request.

“I’m not sure.” She vaguely recalled the email from a few days ago.

Thierry stood at her door, waiting for Luc to clear the way, and, catching the end point of the conversation, jumped right in. “Of course she’s coming. How can you not?” he asked as he walked in with a grin.

“Patrice will be upset, she’s organised a meal at a wonderful new restaurant. And I,” he sat down, placed his folder and pen on her desk, “I will be deeply offended. You must come.”

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