A Girl's Guide to Moving On (11 page)

Nikolai's fingers wove through my hair, and when he broke off the kiss, he buried his face in my neck.

I was speechless, unable to utter a single word, shocked at my unbridled response to him. It frightened me that I could feel such overwhelming emotion from a single kiss.

This came less than a week after my conversation with Kacey. I'd insisted that I didn't need a man in my life. What I found shocking was that I wanted a man. Not any man. I wanted Nikolai. With effort, I eased myself from his arms.

He leaned his forehead against mine. “You give me chilly bumps.”

I smiled gently and softly pressed my lips to his. “Goosebumps.”

“See. Look at my arms.” He stretched out his arm for me to examine. “You do that. You make my heart loud. Feel.” He captured my hand and pressed it against his chest. “See what you do?”

His face was open and warm as he studied me. He saw me as beautiful, as if I were a woman to be worshipped and cherished. His eyes were so tender I was unable to keep the tears at bay.

The first teardrops made wet trails down my cheeks. Nikolai used the pads of his thumbs to smear them away. “Why you cry?” he asked, frowning. “I hurt you with my kiss?”

“No, never.”

“But you cry?”

“I don't know why.” I did, but telling him would only encourage him to kiss me again.

“I come to class on Wednesday,” he promised.

I nodded.

“We talk then. Have more Ukrainian beer.”

I couldn't help myself. I smiled.

“You even more beautiful when you smile.” He opened the car door and I slid inside. He closed it and stepped back. I drove off, my head muddled, my thoughts confused.

It was after ten by the time I arrived back at the apartment. Knowing Kacey was a night owl, I sat on the sofa in front of the fireplace and called her, pressing the cell hard against my ear.

“Leanne, has something happened? Are you all right?”

I wasn't sure how to answer her. “I'm wonderful.”

“If that's the case, then why are you phoning me this late? This isn't like you.”

She was right. In all our acquaintance I'd never phoned past nine. “I was thinking about what you said last week when we had lunch.”

“I said a lot of things.”

“I know. I'm talking about your suggestion that I log on to one of those dating websites.”

“You're gonna do it?” She sounded surprised.

I closed my eyes and bit into my lower lip. “Yes,” I whispered. “I'm ready to date again.”

Nikolai had shown me exactly how ready I was.

The final divorce papers, signed and recorded, arrived in the mail on Tuesday afternoon. Neither Jake nor I were required to be in court. The entire cut-and-dried process had been handled by our attorneys. I didn't read the papers, didn't even open the envelope until after Owen was down for the night. As soon as my son was asleep, I took them out of the envelope and stared at the legal jargon for several minutes. My heart pounded like the judge's gavel, securing the nails in the coffin of my marriage.

Two hours later I sat in the dark, sipping the expensive wine Rocco had brought with him the week before in appreciation for the dinner and dance lesson. I didn't know when the tears started. They came unbidden, unwelcome. I thought I'd shed all the tears I had in me over the failure of this marriage. But I was wrong.

Within an hour I'd emptied nearly an entire box of tissues and blown my nose so often I was sure it would be as red and swollen as my eyes come morning.

When my cell rang I almost didn't answer until I saw that it was Jake. I knew he had to be hurting as much as me.

“Hey,” I whispered, not wanting him to know I was crying.

“Hey.” He paused. “You okay?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

Again, the hesitation. “I'll survive. You got the final papers today?”

“Yeah. You, too?”

“Yeah.” We didn't have that much to say to each other.

“It's my week for Owen,” he reminded me. “I'll pick him up from daycare Friday afternoon.”

“Okay.”

We both went silent, our aching hearts beating in unison.

Jake spoke first. “I don't know what more I could have done, Nichole. I didn't want this.”

I didn't, either, but I couldn't go back into a relationship and constantly be afraid, wary of trusting him again. I couldn't constantly be looking over my shoulder, wondering where Jake was or who he was with every time he was late. I wasn't his mother. I couldn't live the way she had all those years.

“I loved you,” Jake whispered, and his voice was hoarse with pain.

Yes, Jake had loved me, but not enough to remain faithful. “I loved you, too.”

“You'll never find anyone like me.”

I tilted my head back and stared at the ceiling. “Isn't that the point, Jake?”

“I treated you like a princess,” he continued, ignoring my comment.

What he said was true. He had spoiled me; he'd given in to my every whim, constantly buying me gifts, pampering me. I wondered again if those presents were given out of love or because he felt guilty after sleeping with other women. I guess I would never know. It wasn't important now, and I pushed the thought aside.

“I'll make sure Owen has enough clothes with him to last the weekend,” I said, because really there wasn't anything more for us to discuss.

“Yeah, do that.”

“Good-bye, Jake.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He abruptly cut off the connection.

I returned to crying, and reached for another tissue when my cell rang again. “Ye-s-s,” I said, my voice wobbling on the tail end of a sob.

Silence followed.

I was about to hang up when I heard Rocco's voice. “That you, Nichole?”

“It's m-e.” I paused and blew my nose.

“Are you…crying?”

“Ye-s-s.”

“I'll call back another time?”

“O-k-ay.” My emotions were too much for him to handle. I can't say I faulted him. “Did you…n-e-e-d some-t-h-i-n-g?” I asked, doing my best to sound normal and failing miserably.

“I'll text it, okay?”

“O-kay.”

We disconnected and I set the phone aside, waiting for his text. After ten minutes I gave up. It seemed having to deal with me sobbing into the phone was enough to send him running for the hills, not surprisingly.

I'd been around enough men to know they were uncomfortable with women's tears. Although I didn't know Rocco well, I suspected he'd do just about anything to avoid a crying female. Since he hadn't sent me a text, I had to believe whatever he'd wanted couldn't have been important. More likely, it was something he could ask me later.

After fifteen minutes my doorbell chimed. It could only be Leanne. I hadn't mentioned I'd gotten the final papers and I wasn't sure I was up to one of our pep talks or a review of our guide to moving on. The lights were off and she'd probably assumed I was down for the night, even if it was only a little after nine.

“Open up, Nichole,” Rocco called from the other side of the door. “The ice cream is melting.”

Ice cream?
I frowned and turned the dead bolt and opened the door.

He stood on the other side of the threshold holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia ice cream.

“It's dark in here,” he commented, looking past me.

“The light hurts my eyes.”

“Are you going to let me in?” He held up the container, as if I hadn't already seen it.

I stepped aside and he came inside the apartment.

“Sit down and I'll bring you a spoon,” he said.

I returned to my spot on the sofa. “Bring two. Otherwise, I'll eat the whole thing myself,” I said and sniffled.

I heard a crash in the kitchen followed by a swear word. “Can I turn a light on?” he asked.

“I guess.”

“I'll turn it off once I find the spoons,” he promised.

“Leave it on.” I didn't much care.

Rocco kept the light on and joined me in the living room. He handed me a spoon and then sat down next to me. He stared at me and shook his head. “You look awful.”

“Thanks.”

“Why all the tears?”

I dipped the spoon in the carton and took out a large mouthful of ice cream, which by this point had gone soft. “The final papers for my divorce arrived.”

“I thought it was already final.”

“It is now.”

Rocco took his first bite. “Do you still love him?”

I hiccupped a sob and nodded. “Stupid, isn't it? I divorced him and I still love the jerk.”

“I'd think less of you if you didn't love him,” Rocco said, helping himself to more of the Ben & Jerry's. “He fathered your son and at some point he deeply loved you.”

“Just not enough to keep his pants zipped.”

“He regrets that now. Hopefully it's a lesson well learned.”

I swallowed against the cold ice cream and closed my eyes. “Then why am I the one hurting like this? Why am I the one crying my eyes out?” It was an unfair question because I knew Jake was hurting, too.

“Because you loved him.”

I grabbed a tissue as fresh tears rolled down my face. “You do this often?”

“Do what?”

“Bring women with broken hearts ice cream?”

He chuckled. “No. Whatever you do, don't tell anyone. My friends hear about this they'll think I've grown a vagina.”

At first his words shocked me and then I sucked in a deep breath as the amusement rolled up inside me, coming from deep within my stomach. His words had caught me by surprise. I couldn't breathe, and when I could, I doubled over with laughter.

“Nichole?” Rocco said, sounding concerned. “You okay?”

I laughed so hard I nearly choked.

“Are you laughing or crying?”

“Laughing,” I said when I could.

“You think that's funny? I'm serious. Kaylene's forced me to watch enough chick flicks through the years. I know that's what women do when they're brokenhearted. I figured you could use a little Ben and Jerry's therapy.”

“I promise not to let your secret out.”

He frowned and set his spoon aside. “I knew this was a terrible idea.” He was off the sofa and pacing.

I stretched out my arm. “Come on, Rocco, who am I going to tell? I don't know any of your friends. Cross my heart.” I made a huge
X
over my chest.

He visibly relaxed.

“You called earlier. You need something?”

He looked uncertain and pinched his mouth as if debating whether or not he should ask.

I patted the empty space besides me. “I promise not to laugh.”

“I'm more afraid of your bite.”

I didn't know how I could go from the depths of despair to laughing hysterically in just a matter of minutes, but Rocco had managed to achieve the impossible. “When did I bite you?” I demanded.

“You talked me into that ridiculous dancing lesson.”

I wasn't going to let him off easy. “Which you enjoyed. Admit it!”

He sighed. “Okay, it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be.”

“A girl could swoon with the compliments you give.” I placed my hand over my heart and fell sideways on the sofa and then released a loud sigh.

He cracked a smile. “I got a deal for you.”

“A deal?”

“You know. I-tow-you-out-of-the-ditch-and-you-shop-with-Kaylene kind of deal.”

I wasn't sure I liked the sound of this. “Okay, I'm curious enough to find out what it is.”

He started walking again, pacing in front of the coffee table. “Kaylene got this bug up her butt about getting pictures for this father-daughter shindig before the dance. She wants you to take them.”

That didn't sound like such a big deal.

“She says you're the only one she trusts to do it right.”

“And what do I get in exchange?”

“What do you want?” He backed up a couple steps, as if he expected me to demand the outrageous.

I pressed my index finger against my chin as if deep in thought. “You did promise to give Owen a ride in your tow truck. He mentioned it this afternoon. I told him I'd ask you about it.”

“Deal.” He leaned forward and thrust out his hand.

I held mine back. “I'm not done yet.”

“I should have known,” he grumbled, narrowing his eyes.

“Let's be fair. You'd basically already told Owen you'd give him that ride, so you're not really doing anything beyond what you've already promised. Right?” It was important he understand.

“Right,” he agreed, although begrudgingly. “What else do you want?”

“I don't know. One future favor at my discretion.”

“And mine,” he added.

“Fair enough.” I held out my hand for us to shake.

This time it was Rocco who pulled his hand back. “That's two favors I'm giving you with me only getting one.”

“Yes. So?”

“So I should get two.”

I arched my brows.

He cocked his head to one side. “Fair is fair.”

“All right, what do you want?”

He shook his head. “Don't know yet. One future favor at my discretion.”

“And mine,” I said and smiled.

“Deal?”

“Deal.”

Rocco held out his hand and we shook.

He joined me on the sofa. “The dance is Saturday night.”

“What time?”

“Seven, so you should come to the house around six-thirty.”

The man was a dreamer. “I'll be there no later than six.”

“What? I'm not asking you to film
Gone With the Wind
. It's just a couple of photos. Nothing big.”

“Now I know why Kaylene wants me to take the photos.”

“All right, whatever.”

“See you then.” I got off the sofa, took the lid for the Ben & Jerry's, snapped it back on, and stuck it in the freezer.

When I finished I saw that Rocco was standing by the door. He had his hand on the knob. “This woman friend of yours. Shawn something.”

“Shawntelle.”

“She still interested in meeting me?”

“Oh yes. She asked about you again. You want me to text you her contact information?”

He hesitated and then nodded. “Yeah. It might be a good idea.”

“You got it, but be warned, she's a whole lot of woman.”

His smile was off-centered. “I consider myself duly warned.” With that he left the apartment.

I turned the door lock and pressed my forehead against the wood panel as an uneasy feeling settled over me. It surprised me Rocco wanted to meet Shawntelle, but then why not? She'd certainly let me know she was interested. Normally I enjoyed matching up friends, but not this time, and I wasn't entirely sure why.