Trisha grabbed Betty’s arms. “He dumped you?” she snarled. “That low down, worthless pathetic...”
“No,” Betty shook her head, “no, he didn’t dump me. I just, I can’t even. Oh Trisha, I’m falling for him hard and fast, and I can’t stop this, and I don’t want to.” She stared at her friend, knowing her eyes were blood shot.
Since the night Gerard had given her the best orgasm of her life, he’d been ignoring her. Refusing her entrance to his bed at night, refusing to let her even touch him. He still cooked for her, but left her food on the counter, no longer eating with her.
Betty didn’t know what she’d done wrong. She’d tried to talk with him several times, but he would turn cold and distant, and she refused to humiliate herself further. But if he wouldn’t talk to her, she couldn’t help him, and why she even still wanted to… let her know just bad she had it for him.
“I don’t understand then,” Trisha’s lips turned down in a plump frown.
Betty gave her a weak smile, and wiped up the tears gathered at the corners of her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just… he’s got to go home, and I’ll probably never see him again.”
Trisha’s lips tipped. To her credit she never once told Betty I-told-you-so, just enfolded her in her warm arms, and patted her back. “I’ve got a date tonight. We’re headed to Charley’s. Why don’t you guys come?”
“I’ll ask him,” Betty sniffed, knowing he’d say no.
***
The moment the front door opened, Gerard shot to his feet. He’d sat in her favorite arm chair in total dark thinking all day long, longing for her return. He was an ass, he’d ignored her for days, and not because he wanted to. But because being near her was a pain beyond any he’d ever known. She still didn’t love him, and that bothered him, not because it meant he’d die, but because it meant she didn’t feel for him what he did for her.
If all he had was tonight, then he’d enjoy it.
She stood in the door, and his greedy gaze devoured her luscious form. The tan pencil skirt hugged her slim hips, the white shirt outlined every beautiful, perfect curve of her body.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and she stuttered.
He frowned as her face scrunched up. Then she was sobbing, great heaving cries that gripped his soul. Betty ran to him, wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled him. She was warm, and smelled of vanilla, of flowers, and…
“Cherie, I’m so, so sorry.” The words trembled from his soul.
He let her cry, patting her back until her heaving wracks slowed down and her breathing became calm.
“Me too,” she finally whispered.
Gerard grabbed her fingers, kissing each one. “Non, me petite Cherie. I’m a huge ass and do not deserve your tears.”
She hiccupped, hypnotic brown eyes holding his fast. “But, but… you’re still not free. I feel so much for you. I burn for you, ache for you, and you’re still not free.”
He rubbed his knuckles along her velvet cheek. “This is enough.”
She smiled, and he returned it, though his heart ached and shattered in his chest. Tonight was all they had left.
“Trisha wants to go out for drinks,” Betty said, “I don’t want to stay out long, but maybe--”
He kissed her lips, wanting to linger on them, savor them. But now was not that time. Tonight, when the world was all theirs, then he’d show her and tell her what she meant to him.
“Yes, petite. Let’s go.”
Three hours later, they were laughing. Country music lingered in the background as around them dancers swayed and groups talked. Betty nursed the same glass of white wine. His little featherweight. Her laugh was free of the cloud of pain, of the heartache sure to face them in the morning. Trisha’s date was an engaging sandy haired man who seemed wild about the waifish blond. But Gerard was having a hard time focusing. He chugged his fourth tankard of beer and sighed. He wanted to take his woman home, tell her finally how he really felt.
“Let’s dance,” Trisha touched Bill… Bob’s… Harry’s?… (whatever his name was) arm. They left, leaving Gerard and Betty alone, finally.
He knuckled her cheek, needing to touch her. She sighed, leaning into him. “You want to go home?” he asked.
Funny how he now thought of that two bedroom place his, no longer could he see it as a prison. Wherever she was, he was home. Simple as that.
She nodded, brown eyes growing liquid with an unnamed emotion that made his chest ache.
Just as they stood to go say their good-bye’s to Trisha, a female shoved into Betty shoulder. At first Gerard thought her a drunkard wobbly on her feet. But when Betty’s eyes widened and she sucked in a hard breath, he tensed up.
“Gretchen?” Betty’s voice was sharp. “What the hell do you want?”