Page 16 of Come Apart
It was always my gorgeous girlfriend this, my gorgeous girlfriend that.
It was like an irritating tick.
As if I cared that his girlfriend was gorgeous.
But the second she opened her admittedly gorgeous mouth... I was hooked.
She was so smart and articulate.
And not at all narcissistic or self-conscious of her fame.
And even though she'd just met me, even though she clearly wanted to fuck me, she called me on my bullshit. She saw right through me, called out my obvious ploy to fuck with Ryan. She called me on assuming she was vacuous.
She even corrected my grammar.
And when I touched her, the most delightful red flush spread across her face. It was so bright and vibrant.
I wondered how far down the flush went.
It sounds so corny, but it was like a trigger that pumped the saturation back up in my life. Everything is better when she's around—the air, the music, the food.
Even me. I'm so much smarter and kinder and more honest when I'm with her.
I know it's still early, but I see a future with her.
A vibrant and bright one.
I see her lying next to me at night, her soft body pressed against mine, her arms wrapped tightly around my chest. My T-shirt—the one she claimed as her own—drapes softly over her curves. In the morning, she stretches out on the couch with her Kindle and a cup of coffee. I can smell the coffee on her breath, taste the honey on her lips. I feel the nerves in my body turning on, everywhere all at once, just from her hands on my skin.
I know it won't be that perfect. I know we'll have fights, we'll have bad days, we'll have miserable shit just like everyone does.
But it can be that good. We can be that good.
I really meant what I said.
I'd marry her today if she'd have me.
* * *
Mrs. Pike is immaculately put together.
She's the kind of woman who spent her entire marriage immaculately put together. One of those wives who serves as a very special kind of trophy—beautiful, educated, conservative.
Usually, by the time these women make it to my office, they've lost interest in being the symbol of their husbands' good taste and manners.
Or their husbands have gained interest in a younger woman.
But Mrs. Pike is still immaculate in her freshly pressed suit and her small silver earrings.
"I should have known better," she says. "I did. I knew this would happen, even when we got married. I thought I could look the other way." Her attention turns to the window, but not like she's focusing on anything actually in front of her. "I have a good life, Mr. Lawrence. I have a beautiful home. I have all the money I could spend."
Implicit in those words is that all of that just isn't enough.
And perhaps not as fulfilling as she was led to believe it would be.
A common realization among my clients.
"How old were you when you married him?" I ask gently.
