Some Came Desperate: A Love Saga (20 page)

        “What is it you’ve got to decide?”

        He looked at her.  “What is to become of you and me.”

        Simone’s heart dropped.  “Our relationship?”

        “You got it.”

        “So what have you decided?”  She tried to smile, to exude levity, but she couldn’t pull it off.  She looked at him. 

        “I’ve decided,” he said slowly, as if he was just making up his mind, “that I can’t live without you, Simone.”

        She was in his arms before he could say her name.  His heart pounded as he held her, as tears began to well up in his eyes.  It was a fact.  He couldn’t live without her.  It was also a fact that there was that matter of Delia.  He closed his eyes.  He knew there would be no easy answers.  He knew that somebody was going to get hurt.  Oh how he wished he would have handled it differently!  Despite his pretense at only being Simone’s friend all this time, he should have come clean with her about his feelings for her, about his relationship with Delia. 

        And Delia.  That was the worst part of all.  How in the world was he going to break this news to her?  She had never asked him for anything in all of the sixteen years that they’d been together, not even for faithfulness.  But now that she was aging, now that she needed him more than she ever needed him before, he was about to dump her for a woman nearly fourteen years his junior?  Even he couldn’t believe he could be that cold, that callous.

        But there was also Simone.  Sweet, innocent, glorious Simone.  He buried his face in her hair as he held her, as he listened to her cries of joy.  How could he hurt Simone?  She had fallen hard for him nearly two years ago, and he had fallen for her, and it was a love so strong, so palpitating that he could hardly believe it possible.  But it was there.  He couldn’t live without Simone.  He gently pushed her back from him and looked into her pretty face, a face he was beginning to need to see every day of his life.  “I love you, Simone,” he said to her, over and over, and she returned his affection, too.  And he kissed her.  Passionately.  And he knew, as he pulled her to him, and laid back with her on top of him, unable to stop kissing her, that he wasn’t about to stop there.  He couldn’t stop there.

Nearly two hours later they lay, side by side, in Simone’s big, warm bed.  Both on their backs, both silent as lambs, both facing the reality of what they’d done with a somberness that stunned even an old pro like Nick.  He was puffing hard on his cigarette, blowing plumes of smoke into the thick, dark air, and trying with all he had not to regret every second of what he’d just done.  He’d enjoyed it, every moment of it, but that wasn’t the issue.  Of course he would enjoy it.  This was Simone he was laying beside.  The only woman he’d ever loved this completely.  That wasn’t the point.  The point was the reality of the situation and what in the world was he going to do about it?  He had to tell Delia that no, he couldn’t marry her after all these years, that he was in love with another woman and had to be with her. 

        He closed his eyes.  It would devastate Del at a time when the last thing she needed was another rejection.  And one by him of all people, probably the only human being she always thought she could count on.  Now he was dumping her?  He opened his eyes.  He seemed so certain before, when Simone was still just an enchanting craving he longed to quench.  Now he still craved her, but on a far more powerful level; a level that denoted two becoming one in an unbreakable bond.  He had to have her now.  He had to have her by his side for the rest of his natural life.   It was selfish and it was cruel.  Yet it was a fact.  But he knew Delia, too, and he knew she would not accept defeat this easily.  They’d be in for a battle, he and Simone, and he wasn’t at all sure if Simone would fight it.  She could dump him.  She could tell him to take a hike for being so reckless as to place her into this kind of unholy position.  He wanted to look at her, to tell her all about it right now, but he steeled himself to move.  Not yet, he decided, and blew more smoke.

        Simone lay still also.  Only she was silently crying.  Not only tears of joy, but tears of fear, too.  She had never felt so complete, so incredibly awestruck as she felt when he entered her and changed her forever.  Now she was inextricably linked to him.  Now she was his woman, and he was her man.  No more doubts about that now.  No more
we’re only friends
talk now. 

        It was not how she would have ever planned it all those months ago when Nick made clear to her that they could never be more than friends.  A few hours together and now they were more than friends.  And in such a sudden, unplanned, unexpected way.  Although she’d loved Nick all of this time, and loved him deeply, it was never her intention to do anything remotely resembling sleeping with him until their wedding day.  That was how certain she was about being with Nick Perry.  That was how hard she had prayed for this man to be a permanent part of her life. 

        But doing it this way.  Without the benefit of marriage.  Without the anticipation that would

have come on their wedding night.  She leaned her head back.  She was so disappointed in

herself, so very startled by how easily she allowed her own need to trump a principal she

believed in all of her adult life.  If you give the milk away for free, the cow will flee, she used to

love to tell Jules when they were little and those neighborhood boys would come around trying

to smell up their behinds. And she believed it with all her heart.  Then she became a Christian

and believed it even more.  This was a big deal to her.  She had never viewed sex as a casual

matter.  Yet, in truth, she had never viewed Nick casually, either.             

        And that helped temper her concern.  Because the man lying beside her right this very

moment was Nick, her Nick, not some smooth joe trying to do a hit-and-run on her.  Nick would

never leave her or hurt her or suddenly want it all to go back like before.  And although he didn’t

mention anything about it when they were in the throes of their passion, she also knew that h

was going to ask her to marry him.  And if he didn’t, she had already decided, she was going to

ask him.

        But before either one of them could even begin to ask anything, Nick’s cell phone rang.  “That’s probably Mark,” he said in a voice that Simone could only describe as tired, and sat up on the edge of the bed.  “I told him to call me if the prosecutor comes up with a plausible plea deal.”

        “On the Shaunessy case?”

        “Yeah,” he said, sounding tired again, as he reached down and grabbed the ringing phone from out of his pants pocket. 

        While he talked on the phone, Simone went into the bathroom.  She wiped the tears from her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror.  She didn’t look any different, it seemed to her, but she felt completely changed.  As if she were a newborn baby entering a brand new world.  And she was bright eyed for the first time.  Because this was her first time.  Her very first time.  And it was with Nick.  And even thought the sound in his voice,  as if he wasn’t exactly bursting with excitement over this first time of hers, didn’t help the niggling worry that remained deep within her, she refused to dwell on that; to let anything spoil her debut.   She was even able to smile just thinking about what it all meant.  She would soon be Simone Perry.  Or Simone Rivers-Perry.  Or Mrs. Nicholas Perry.  She especially liked the sound of that one.  Mrs. Nicholas Perry.  It sounded so conventional, so practical, so Simone!

        “Simone!” Nick called out forcefully from the bedroom and she jumped first, given that forcefulness, and then hurriedly opened the door.  He had fully dressed, looking so big and overwhelming in her small bedroom that she almost wanted to smile, amazed that a man like that belonged to her, but this was no light matter.  Not by the serious look on his face as he grabbed his cell phone and keys and stuffed his wallet in his back pocket. 

        “What’s the matter?” she asked him.

        “Gotta go,” he said, and Simone immediately nodded.  The wife of a criminal attorney had to be understanding.

        “I understand,” she said knowingly, well familiar with the fact that his cases were sometimes matters of life and death and would take precedence over everything else.  But when he walked up to her, placed both his hands on her small shoulders and said, “do you?” as if it were debatable, as if he wasn’t at all sure that she’d be that kind of a wife, she blinked.

        “Of course I do,” she said, trying to smile away his fears.  “You’re the head of a huge, powerful law firm, Nick, and one with a reputation for excellence.  I know your firm’s cases will sometimes have to come first.  I understand that.”

        He looked deep into her eyes with such a grave look that it staggered her.  Did his cases always affect him this way, she wondered, or maybe it didn’t have anything to do with a case, but with the fact that they had just hours before taken their relationship to a whole different level?  Whatever it was, it seemed to be eating him alive, which scared Simone.  She’d never seen such a strong, unflappable man like Nick so unhinged.  But before she could voice those fears, he pulled her to him and held her with a ferociousness that caused her to cling to him, too.  She felt so wonderful and so confused that she didn’t know what to say.  So she said nothing and buried her face in his chest, relying on her firm assurance that this was Nick,
her
Nick, and he wouldn’t ever allow anything to harm her or throw her for a loop or cause her this kind of unfamiliar anxiety for too long.  He was just a little scared too, she decided.  This was all new to him, too, after all.  Maybe not the act of lovemaking.  Certainly not that, she clarified with a silent smile.  But loving her this way, the woman he said he loved, was completely new. 

        When he stopped embracing her, with his hands still tight on her arms, she was stunned to see that tears stained his eyes.  She couldn’t believe it.  She had never, not ever seen Nick this emotional.  It was such a tender thing to see, such a sweet thing, that tears came back into hers and she reached out and touched his beautiful face.  That touch seemed to undo him because he suddenly pulled her against him again, with an almost desperate snatch, and began kissing her.  Face, neck, chest.  Only it wasn’t the same kind of kiss as before.  It was an almost harsh kiss, as if it was tinged with some great anger from somewhere, some unleashed bitterness.  As if, she dreaded even thinking, it had nothing to do with her. 

        But she allowed it.  She wrapped her arms around him and allowed him to lean into her with a fierceness that caused her to feel momentarily trapped: imprisoned.  When he finished, and she thought that his unusually histrionic show of affection was over, he lifted her up and into his arms, holding her so tightly that she thought she was going to be bruised.  She almost expected him to carry her back to bed.  But that would not have been anything like the Nick she knew.  When duty called, no matter how inconvenient, he handled his business.  That much she knew after having observed him during their two-year friendship.  And sure enough, he did put her down, and ran his hand through her thick and unruly hair, and then left in a hurry, to handle that business, a look of what Simone could only register as regret piercing his troubled, gorgeous face.

FIFTEEN

Early the next morning and Shay couldn’t stop shaking her head and filing her nails in constant flourishes that fluctuated between near-hysteria and calm hatred.  That slick-behind girlfriend of Nick Perry’s had bested her that time.   Bested her better than she believe she’d ever been out-classed.  Because she didn’t see it coming.  Not for a second. 

        Last night, when she had seen Nick hurry from Simone’s apartment, while she still sat out in her car waiting for his girlfriend Delia to show up, she was floored.  She ran back into the apartment and, after listening to Simone voice her surprise that she’d be back so soon, was told that Nick had been “called away” on a messy case.  Shay shook her head.  It was messy, all right.  Real messy.  Because that witch had won.  Had gotten the name of the apartment from Shay, with Shay being crazy enough to tell her Simone’s name, and all Miss High Class Delia had to do was give Mr. High Class a call, mention the fact that she knew he was over to the Lancaster apartments right now with that bitch Simone Rivers, and it was on.  Mr. High Class was high stepping it out of the Lancaster faster than a rat out of a briar patch, and was well on his way.  And Miss High Class, that witch, didn’t even have to leave her house.

        Nor pay Shay a dime. 

        And that was why she was fuming.  Although she didn’t know any of this for a fact, she knew when somebody was gaming her.  And she always liked a good game.  She always liked a woman who knew how to play a good game.  But not when the female was making her look like a fool.  She even thought about calling in her own boyfriend, who knew how to mess you up if you messed with him or his, but she didn’t bother.  That Delia had tricks up her sleeve the likes of which even Shay probably had never seen, and she wasn’t taking that kind of a chance.  Beside, the point was accomplished.  Mr. High and Mighty was gone out of Simone’s life, and, Shay suspected with more than a little glee, up for grabs again.  May the best woman win.

        The doorbell rang.  “Get that, Shay, please,” Simone yelled from her bedroom.  She was getting ready for work and in an especially good mood this morning, Shay thought, as she couldn’t stop singing some stupid song about how it’s her turn and how everybody else might as well understand because it’s all about her now.  Clueless, Shay thought, as she answered the door.

        To her surprise, it was Nick.  And although he looked like hell, she absolutely had not expected him to show his face around here again.  Ever.  Delia, she was certain, would have seen to that. 

        He, to Shay’s anger, did as he usually did and walked on in.  “Where’s Simone?” he asked.

        “And good morning to you to, Mr. Perry.”

        “Shay,” Nick said, pointing a finger, looking as if he was on the verge of some kind of breakdown, “I am positively not in the mood for your nonsense this morning.  Now where is Simone?”

        She pointed toward the hallway that led to Simone’s bedroom and Nick hurried in that direction.  Shay slammed the door, angrier.  And then went as far down the hall as she possibly could, without being seen.

        In the bedroom Nick had to literally pry Simone hands off of him as she had rushed into his arms on seeing him again.  She was so happy, so thrilled about their rest-of-life prospects, that he couldn’t bear it.  And he couldn’t delay the absolute inevitable a second longer. 

        “We’re not going to be together, Simone,” he said to her.  At first she wasn’t sure if she had heard him right.  Certainly he had said that they ARE going to be together.  But she was looking at him really for the first time, and that look of sheer horror on his face stopped her cold.  She had heard him right.  She knew it immediately. 

        “What do you mean?” she asked, her heart pounding as if it were nearing cardiac arrest.

        “We can’t be together.  I’m sorry.” 

        And he looked sorry, Simone thought.  He really did.  But what was he talking about?  Was this some kind of sick joke?  Was the punch line coming?   Oh, dear God, please let the punch line come!

        But it didn’t come.   He was still so serious that just looking at him, at the tension all over his big body, made her head ache.  “I tried so hard not to hurt you, Simone—”

        “But what are you talking about?  We can be together, Nick.  We are together!”

        “It’s not going to work out.”

        “It has worked out.  Why do you keep saying those things?   We’ve been together for two years, Nick.  You’re my best friend.   What are you talking about?  You’re my lover.  You’re gonna be my . . .  How can you say these things to me?” 

        Tears were straining her eyes and Nick was almost numb, because he knew she didn’t deserve an inch of this craziness; because  he knew that she deserved to be told the whole story finally.  And she hadn’t heard the worse of it.

        “We can’t be together, Simone,” he said, “because I’m getting married to another woman.”

        And just as he expected, this little line had the effect of rendering Simone speechless.  She could only stare at him.  He reached out to touch her, but she jerked away from him so violently that she backed into her curio set and caused some of her what-nots to tumble over and fall. 

        “Simone,” he said with a plea in his voice, but she would have none of that.

        “You’re getting married?” she finally said, as if it still wasn’t quite clear.  “You’re marrying another woman?”

        Nick nodded his head.  “I didn’t mean to hurt you, Simone.”

        “You’re marrying another woman?  How could you be marrying another woman?  We were together just last night, Nick, what are you talking about?  I let a man make love to me for the first time in my life last night and now that man’s telling me that he’s marrying another woman?  How could you have met another woman since last . . .”  And that was when it hit Simone.  Because it would have been impossible for a man as sensible and responsible as Nick Perry to leave her bed, meet a stranger, and then propose to that stranger.  Impossible.

        Simone swallowed hard, those unshed tears like hardened glass in her eyes.  “Who is she?” she asked in a voice so soft Nick barely heard her. 

        “It doesn’t matter---”

        “Who is she!” Simone screamed out. 

        “Delia,” Nick said and began running his hand over his hair.  “Her name is Delia.”

        Simone was calm again.  At least outwardly.  “Who is she?”

        “Somebody that I knew.”

        “And how long have you known her?”

        “Simone---”

        “How long,” she said, nearly exploding again, but calming back down, “have you known this Delia person, Nick?”

        Nick exhaled.  “Sixteen years.”

        Simone couldn’t believe it.  “Sixteen. . . Sixteen years?”

        Nick nodded.

        “Was she . . . I mean, what kind of. . .  She was your friend for sixteen years?”

        “She’s been my lover, my girlfriend, Simone, for sixteen years.”

        Simone just stared at him. “You mean to tell me, are you telling me that you had, that you was in a serious, long-time relationship with somebody else the entire time you was seeing me?”

        “It wasn’t something . . .”  And he couldn’t continue.  He couldn’t keep minimizing what he had done.  “Yes,” he finally said. 

        Simone stared at him, and stared some more.  She couldn’t stop looking at this man before her.  And then suddenly the sadness, the hurt, the unbelievable pain, was replaced, no, suppressed by unbridled anger.  And she couldn’t hear another word.  “Get out,” she said to him.

        “I didn’t mean---”

        “Get out!  Get out!  Get out!” she screamed from the top of her lungs and began throwing everything in sight at him.  Brushes, combs, cold cream jars, bubble bath, she grabbed it and threw it.  And Nick ducked and juked and jived and still didn’t look half as awful as he felt.  He wanted to grab her, and hold her, and beg her forgiveness.  But he didn’t deserve her forgiveness.  Because it was too sadistic.  Even she understood that a man like him, a man she was so certain she knew so well, wasn’t going to leave a woman he’d been with that long.  Not after sixteen years.  Even he, deep down, knew that. 

        But he took her anyway.  He made passionate love to this woman less than fourteen hours ago and took the greatest gift of love she had to offer.  He tried to convince himself that he was being honorable; that he had truly chosen Simone, and wanted to be her first and only, and that he would tell Delia exactly that.  But looking back, he thought, as he obeyed Simone’s wishes and made his way out of her bedroom and toward the front, it could have just as easily been completely sinister.   He knew how much Simone loved him.  And maybe he preyed on that love.  He would get her in bed, take her innocence, and she’d be his forever.  Even if he never married her, and remained with Del, she’d be too attached to him, too much a part of him, to even think about leaving him.  And it all backfired in his face, he wanted to scream aloud as he made his way out of Simone’s life.  You sick, perverted piece of crap!

        Shay had left her perch in the hall and was seated on the sofa by the time Nick came crashing out of the bedroom, his big, once graceful body moving like a drunken man out of the apartment.  “Tell Delia I said hello,” she had said to him in a sarcastic tone as he left, but he was too engrossed in his own devastation to even hear her.  Besides, she wasn’t in a great mood, either.  What did he mean that he was going to marry this Delia?  And what did Simone mean by sleeping with him last night?  She always felt superior to Simone in that regard; she always felt that Simone might have Nick now, but it was just a matter of time before her womanly wiles, which Simone had no clue how to flaunt, would win him away from her.  But she had slept with him?  It was odd, and strange, even Shay would admit, but she was hurt by that.  And instead of feeling anything like sympathy for the pain her sister had to undoubtedly be going through, she felt nothing but hatred.  Because that sister of hers had given Nick something that he wouldn’t take from her, and had given it to him in all of the pomp and circumstance virgin sex usually entailed.  And Delia, that Delia, had bested them both. 

Several days later and Shay saw Simone getting worse, not better.  She wouldn’t leave her bedroom, for one thing, and whenever Shay bothered to take some food in there for her to eat, Simone wouldn’t even look at it.  Some hours later, when Shay would return, the food would be just as Shay had left it. 

        Shay, at first, thought it was amusing.  Simone finally realized that Mr. Great and Wonderful was neither great nor wonderful.  It was more than what she deserved, Shay felt, the way Simone was always prancing around as if she was superior because she had a so-called “good” man in her life.  But when Matt Ray, Simone’s boss, came to the apartment demanding to know why Simone wouldn’t come to work to take care of her many clients, and Simone wouldn’t even see her own boss, Shay became worried.  And called Jules.

        She opened the door to a frantic Jules, who was hurrying in before Shay could say hello. 

        “How could you not tell me, Shay?” she demanded to know.

        “I told you, that’s why you’re here,” Shay replied.  “What are you talking about?”

        “Why didn’t you tell me sooner, you know what I’m talking about.  Nick Perry dumped Simone and she hasn’t eaten in nearly a week, you should have called me sooner, Shay.”

        “What’s the big deal, dang!  She got what was coming to her, that’s how I see it.”

        Jules looked at her kid sister and rolled her eyes.  She now regretted with a passion writing all of those letters to Shay and condemning Simone in every one of them.  Now Shay seemed to hate Simone.  Hate her. When Simone was probably the only person on the face of this earth who ever really loved Shay.