Page 24 of Wandering Closer

Heat rises up my cheeks at the compliments. “Thank you. Do you want to open one of the bottles and I’ll get out plates?”Michele opens the bottle of Pinot Grigio and pours each of us a glass, while I move the food to my table and set out plates and utensils.

“Cheers,” she says as we clink our glasses together. “Now, I know you said you had things you wanted to talk about, but first, I need to know all about you and Thoren.”

I smirk and swallow my mouthful of food. “There is no ‘me and Thoren’. He’s been a great neighbor and friend, and I’ve been helping out with Shadow. Really, even that doesn’t feel like I’m helping him, more like it’s keeping me from loneliness.”

“Have you seen that man?” she wiggles her eyebrows, taking a sip of the crisp wine. “You could have the dog and the owner, two for one special.”

My laugh is loud and free. “Yes, I have eyes. He’s clearly god’s gift to women, wrapped in a rugged and filthy hot package. Have you seen him use power tools? I swear my panties incinerated on sight.”

Her brows narrow in speculation. “He really is just a great friend. He bought all new boards for my deck last Tuesday and helped me replace the rotting ones. It was really sweet, but I feel awful that he wouldn’t let me pay him for his help or the wood.”

Michele smiles down at her plate, cutting up her chicken. “Don’t feel bad, that’s just the type of man he is. He’s always been selfless, always more concerned with the happiness of others. I really like you, Lily, and I don’t think you ever would but… don’t take advantage of that fact about him. Too many people already have.”

I smile around my wine glass, taking a small sip. I should feel like an outsider, that she’s protecting her old friend over her new, but I don’t. I appreciate the fact that she cares enough about others to look out for them. It only endears me to both of them more. “I promise, I would never.”

“Good. So the deck is the only time you’ve spent together?”

I poke at the vegetables on my plate, a small smile gracing my lips. “He also cooked me dinner Saturday, but that was so he could explain baseball to me. And we went hiking this past Tuesday.”

Her sharp eyes take me in, reading whatever is on my face. “I just ask that I be your first call when your ‘just a friend’ becomes something more.”

We finish up our meal, talking about what properties she’s showing currently and how my book is coming along. When she brings the dishes to the sink, I start packing up a little of everything into a container before putting the rest away.

“Is that for me?” she glances knowingly at the container.

“Oh, it can be. I was going to put this one in Thoren’s fridge later so if he makes it home tonight he doesn’t have to worry about cooking. Do you want me to make one for you, too? There’s plenty of leftovers.”

“Nope,” she pops the p, “I kind of figured that’s what you were doing, but wanted to check. Nice to see someone take care of him for a change.” With that, she grabs the open wine bottle and her glass and meanders out to the back deck.

Trailing behind her with my glass and the frozen treat I made for Shadow, I set it on a towel on the deck so she has something to do, before running back in to grab the plate of snacks I made for us. Michele is emptying the rest of the bottle into our glasses, feet tucked up under her on the couch when I return. With the living room lights shining through the large windows, the outside light isn’t necessary. Under the slight cover of darkness, I feel a sense of invisibility and comfort.

“So, what did you need to talk to me about?”

Drawing in the warm night air, I ponder how to start. “I have a situation that I am not sure how to move forward with, and I would love your opinion. This story isn’t going to paint me ina great light, so if you don’t want to be friends after this, I’ll understand. I just need help figuring out the right thing to do.”

Michele turns fully toward me, not saying a word, just encouraging me to continue when I’m ready. Tyler’s face flashes behind my eyes, his bright green eyes, the subtle grays starting to touch his hair. The soft feel of his hands on me, the flower deliveries on my desk. All of the good things that we had, until we didn’t. The happiness I felt, until he crushed me.

My integrity.

My career.

My heart.

“I worked at a financial firm back in Phoenix. My parents wanted me to have a degree and a career that took me further in life. I double majored in Business and Financial Planning, just like they wanted. The summer between junior and senior year, I interned at this incredible firm. When the summer ended, they offered an extended internship that would end in a job offer when I graduated, so of course, I took it.” Gulping down half my wine sends heat down into my belly. Reveling in the feel of the cool condensation soaking my fingers, I steady my voice to continue.

“My first official day there after graduation, I met Tyler. He was one of the Controllers, and had a hand in orientation for new hires. Even though I worked under one of the account managers, one that worked under another Controller in the company, he helped set me up. There was a spark that first week, as he checked in on me everyday. But he was older, and had a wedding ring, so I kept it professional. For the next three years we saw each other here and there. In meetings, work events, in the break room. We were always friendly, but over time he started to get flirty, toeing the line of professional.” I twirl the wine glass between my fingers, growing uncomfortable. Michele’s stare hasn’t left me from where she still sits quietly, waiting for meto continue. Her face is passively blank, her posture relaxed in comparison to mine.

“Finally, one day he walked past my desk as he was leaving. He mentioned some people from his department were meeting for a drink and invited me along. I didn’t have many friends, so I went. As the night carried on, he moved closer to me, until our legs were touching. He told me that he and his wife had been having problems for years, and just decided they were going to get a divorce. He told me how beautiful and smart and funny I was. How he had seen my worth from day one. I was dumb and naive, and I ate it up. I let him come home with me that evening.” My voice starts to wobble, a single tear slipping free. I shouldn’t let myself be affected by this. But I loved him. For years, I loved him and he played me for a fool.

Michele reaches over, giving my knee a reassuring squeeze. Her eyes are kind, and full of empathy, so I continue. “We started seeing each other after that, in secret. He told me I would be up for a promotion soon, and he didn’t want people thinking it was because we were together so we had to keep it to ourselves. Tyler was sweet, you know? Sending me surprise flowers, taking me to nice restaurants, he even took me on a weekend trip away. We never went to his house though, and it was rare that he would stay the night. He told me his wife was looking for a new place and was staying in the guest room, and that’s why I couldn’t go there. I believed him. Sometimes I would cook dinner for us, and he wouldn’t show. He always had a good excuse, but things slowly got worse. He would leave right after we had sex, and was critical of things I did or said. I would bring it up, and he would apologize and paint a pretty picture of our future; about us getting a house together, once my promotion went through. I thought we were going to build a life together.”

I saw the way he changed around me, losing some of his posh attitude, and taking on narcissistic behaviors. The way he wouldgaslight me when I brought up ignored calls and texts or missed plans. Over time, his behavior changed from a tender gentleman to a manipulating and controlling man, but I didn’t see it so clearly at the time.

“Oh, Lily,” Michele’s voice is soft as she takes my hand. “Keep going.”

“We had a party at a nice hotel downtown to celebrate fifty years of business. Cocktail attire, catered food, dancing, open bar. We were supposed to go together. I waited for him to pick me up. I waited for almost two hours, and he never answered his phone or showed, so I went on my own. When I walked in, he was already there, his wife draped on his arm. Turns out, they were never getting a divorce, never even separated. I was just the other woman.” The tears are flowing freely now, but Michele’s tight grip gives me the strength to keep going.

“I didn’t make a big scene, I didn’t even confront him. But when his wife went to the restroom, I followed her in and told her everything. I told her how sorry I was but that he told me they were getting divorced and that I had been seeing him for the last two years.Two. Freaking. Years.She slapped me across my face so hard that I was bruised for a week, then stormed out, not saying a word to me. I slipped out of the hotel and cried the whole way home. When I got into work the next Monday morning, I was ushered into HR and fired. They said my performance wasn’t up to their standards, when all of my reviews had been stellar. I called you three weeks after that. Sold my condo, bought this place, and made a deal with my editor for a book series so I could afford it all.”

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