Page 5 of Clay
It takes me a while, but finally, I find a summer dress I bought at a thrift store ages ago.
I bought it as something to wear for a special occasion, but somehow that special occasion never happened, and it’s been hanging in my closet for years. I’d all but forgotten it existed.
It’s not too long, but not too short. The neckline shows off my shoulders and my cleavage, and it lifts up my boobs really well, but not in a slutty way.
The yellows and the oranges and the pinks in the flowers are all pastel-colored. When I spin around in front of the mirror I close my eyes and imagine I’m in a park with Clay and his arms are around me and I know I’ve found the exact right thing to wear.
“Oh my God,” Kate messages back when I send her the photo. “Smiley-face-emoji, kiss-emoji, heart-emoji, aubergine-emoji, six raindrop-emojis, and a gif of Oprah wiping tears from her eyes… you are so beautiful.”
“You don’t think it’s too much?”
“Girl… you look a million dollars.”
“Hell yeah, I do,” I think, messaging Kate back a quick thanks and letting her know she can expect a phone call later and a full rundown of everything that happens.
I give Captain Fluffinton a kiss on the head, do my lipstick, put on some make-up, spray a little perfume, and then dry and straighten my hair.
“He better be worth it,” I say stroking my precious kitty one last time before heading out the door. “Hell… who am I kidding. He’s definitely worth it.”
I haven’t felt this good in forever. For the first time in ages, I feel like I’m walking on a rainbow made of candy and diamonds.
Butterflies are bouncing around in my belly. The sun is shining. Birds are chirping in the trees.
I’ve got my cat back. I’m going on a date. I look fabulous. I feel fabulous. Everything is finally starting to work out for me.
I almost feel like shouting it out for all the world to hear, but I don't. Mr. Russle, my grumpy, possibly drug addict neighbor is sitting on his porch staring at me funny.
Instead, I jump in my car, put the music on loud, and tear off down the road. Happy as a French person in an all-you-can-eat, luxury wine, cheese, and baguette party.
4
Iget to the coffee shop early and wait for Megan. It’s been ages since I’ve been on a real date and the closer it gets to our meeting time the more nervous I feel.
Let’s just say my last relationship didn’t go well.
Jane, my ex-wife told me she loved me. Told me she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me. We had five happy years together and then, one night coming home from work late, I found her in our bed with her yoga instructor.
It turns out she’d been sleeping around on me for the most part of our entire marriage.
I couldn’t believe it. It was like my whole world had been blown upside down.
The hardest part was telling Olivia, my daughter. She was only six at the time, and she couldn’t understand why Mummy was moving away. Even though we told her it wasn’t her fault, and that we both love her very much, it broke my heart to see her cry.
I made a promise to myself that day. I would never let it happen again, and ever since I’ve dedicated myself to my work and to being the best father possible.
My sister, Lisa, keeps trying to talk me into going out on dates, but I’ve always steadfastly refused. She’d be beside herself if she knew I was sitting here, waiting to meet a woman I think I might genuinely have feelings for.
But all the anxiety builds up inside me. It’s not the same when you have a daughter who means the world to you. If things work out with Megan I’ll have to bring her into my life. I’ll have to introduce her to Olivia.
And, even though I know she’d love to have a proper mother figure back in her life, and I know she wants me to be happy, I’m not sure I’m capable of trusting anyone quite like that anymore. Even if it means sacrificing my own happiness.
“Clay?”
Megan’s crept up beside me without me noticing. I stumble out of my chair and give her a peck on the cheek.
I can’t help but take in her amazing figure. The dress she's wearing hugs her body and the sight of her neckline and her legs send me into overdrive.
She looks so frigging good, I want to wrap her up in my arms and feel her body pressed against me. I want to run my hand between her thick, soft thighs and feel the wetness between her legs.
