Color Her Red (15 page)

I calm, thinking we are escaping from t
he depths of her torment.  She’s a wanted criminal, she can’t leave the country; she can’t follow us.  The thought brings me quiet peace.  She cannot touch us; she can’t hurt us. 

My aching body releases tension as I come to terms, she wants me dead, but I won’t let that happen, Thomas won’t let it happen. I repeat my mantra.  She cannot touch us; she will not harm us. 
She cannot touch us; she will not harm us.  She cannot touch us; she will not harm us. 

My eyes open; and I no longer feel helpless in the grasp of a psychotic executioner; something else is ins
ide me, brewing an emotion I haven’t felt before.  I feel serenity mixed with unrelenting disgust and anger.  My breathing is deep but calm and I feel my rage course through my blood at the thought of her.  I will not let her get the best of me.  I swallow hard. 

Thomas rests his hand on mine.  His touch is soft, making my emotions wither.  We’re here.

“You can sleep on the plane.”  His blue eyes speak to me, calming me, making me weak.  “And when you wake, we’ll be far away from this mess.”  I gather a small curl to my lips. 

“Okay.”  My voice sounds strange, it’s gentler than I feel.  He leans down and kisses me, leaving me wanting more.  My eyes feel heavy, and the realization makes my body beg me to
let it collapse. 

I look out the
car window.  The plane is waiting for us as we pull up to the dimly lit airport. I scoot to the edge of the seat and carelessly slip my heels back on.  Thomas opens my door and holds his hand out to me.

“Hmmm, I’m coming. I’m coming.” I mumble under my breath and reach for him. 

Thomas introduces me to the pilot and copilot, I know I’ve met them before, maybe a year before, but I’ve forgotten their names.  They don’t seem to mind being reintroduced.  I mosey aboard, leaving Thomas to talk to the pilot.  There are a dozen white leather seats on the small aircraft.  Two rows with no one else aboard, I know at least Michael will be joining us shortly.  I take a window seat and begin to drift before I am introduced to a gorgeous red head with bright blue eyes, our flight attendant.  She looks as though she may faint if my husband smiles at her one more time and I have to consciously resist rolling my eyes.   Ava, the hot-for-my-husband flight attendant, graciously informs us of all of the proper escape routes on the plane. 
Not really what I want to hear, but thanks, just in case we come crashing down into a burning inferno.

Nestled into my seat I am vaguely aware of how upset my stomach has become.  I hate flying.  I reach for Thomas
’ hand and he gives me a light squeeze. 

“We’ll be in the air soon Baby, and then you can sleep until we land.”  He smiles warmly at me and I can see red-hot slut in the background frowning. 
Yes, he’s mine; now back off.

“Tell me something; preoccupy my mind
.”  I look up at him through my lashes, hoping for a pleasant distraction.

“How about you tell me something?”  I hate it when he avoids my questions.

“You have nothing new to tell your wife?”  I smile shyly, teasing him.  He shrugs and gives me an asymmetrical grin in return.

I think for a minute, trying to come up with a topic that doesn’t involve the disaster we are attempting to escape. 
“Kate is seeing Mike tonight.”  I barely succeed in keeping the disgust out of my voice, although I know my face reads how appalled I am. Thomas snorts and shakes his head.

“She hasn’t had enough torture.  Is she a masochist?”  He shakes his head.

“I don’t know why she does it.  I don’t get it.  I told her not to, but I know she is going to do what she wants.”

“She’s seeing him tonight?”

“Yes, so at least the security duo will be there to keep her tame.”  He grunts.

“A little tequila and both you and her are absolutely shameless, security duo or not.” 

He’s right and the thought makes me shudder.  I really hope she doesn’t sleep with him … again.  She keeps going back to him, like a fly to shit.  He says exactly what she wants to hear. 
I’ve missed you.  I made such a mistake.  I’m such an asshole; I don’t deserve someone as sweet as you. 
She eats it up and tries to comfort him, thinking he’s changed and that he really does appreciate her.  They sleep together and then he gets what he wanted, and it’s over.  He avoids her like the plague, only calling when he is drunk at two in the morning.  I retreat with her to her sofa with a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, our hero in red, helping her get over him… again.

My body trembles slightly as we take off and Thomas squeezes and then kisses my hand.  And just like that, we are in the air.  I smile shyly back at him. 

“She said it seems like he’s changed.”  My voice drifts; I know it’s not true.  I don’t even know why I said it.  I’m an optimist, but even I’m not that optimistic. 

“People
don’t change, Emma.”  He puts a comforting hand on my knee and lightly caresses my skin with his thumb. 

“But you changed.”  I almost said the words as if it was a question, just as I was thinking of it.  His hand froze and the
n receded.  An icy look replaces the comfort in his eyes.  His face is hard and a scowl grows across his lips.  I shift uncomfortably; I didn’t mean to make him mad.  “I just meant-” I don’t really know what I meant.

“Emma, I don’t want to talk about me or my past.”  He clears his throat and stares ahead, avoiding my gaze.

“Why?  Is it something to do with her?”  I have to ask the question burning into me, again coming to my lips before I was conscious of the words.

“Who,” he growls at me, “Lillian?”  His eyes rip into me.  I immediately feel
reprehensible and guilty.  “She’s someone I used to fuck and that’s it.”  His voice is hard and cross.  I feel like he slapped me.  Tears prick at the back of my eyes and the hollow feeling of my twisted stomach grows lower.

“Don’t cry
, Emma.”  He swallows hard and when he opens his eyes they’re somewhat soft, wretched but not angry anymore.  “Please, I don’t want to talk about her.  I feel guilty as it is.”  He picks my hand up and kisses my knuckles before setting my hand gently back down in my lap.  I stare down, absentmindedly watching the hem of my dress, concentrating on the threading, trying not to cry. 

I make a small nod with my head, still looking down.  He exhales and leans back in his seat, looking miserable and defeated. 

“Please, just sleep, I promise things will be better when we land.”  I feel his gaze on me, but I don’t turn to face him.  Moments pass with nothing but awkward silence between us.  My breathing calms and the threatening tears withdraw.  I finally look at him; his eyes meet my gaze with hope that I’ve forgiven him for his outburst.  I lean up out of my seat, leaning my weight on the armrest, and give him a small kiss on his wanting lips.  I burrow back into my seat and close my eyes letting a moment pass. 

What could
he have possibly done that he’s so ashamed about?  We never actually had a conversation about his “dating” life.  I never wanted to question him; I never felt the need.  All I knew was what Kate had told me.

I WAS ON THE SOFA READING
over the edits to an article when I heard Kate banging on my door.  It was late Saturday night, around 1AM.  My head was still in the clouds; Thomas had dropped me off about an hour before after our third date.  It was more than I had ever dreamed.

At the time
, I was working as an intern for LBB Inc. Literary agency on East 23
rd
.  I remember walking out with Sarah Marins, a snobby editor who had an obsession with critiquing my coffee making abilities.  Her mouth dropped when she saw Thomas waiting for me.  I hadn’t told anyone that I was seeing him, other than Kate of course.  I continued to walk as she stood in the middle of the street gawking.  He was in his typical attire, dark jeans and a white t-shirt with a worn brown leather jacket.  His hair was a bit messy, just enough to make it seem as though he really didn’t give a fuck.  I gave a small wave to Sarah as Thomas opened the door for me.  I slid in with a smug grin on my face.  He knew exactly what I was doing and he couldn’t hold back his smile. 

“I trust you had a nice day at the office.”  He grinned teasing me as he started the engine. 

“It dragged on a little too much.”  I bit my lip as I blushed.  I couldn’t help it; he made me melt.

“I have something for you.  I hope you don’t mind.”  He reached into the back of the car and pulled out a bag from Barneys, the handles were tied with a small white ribbon and tissue paper was covering the top.  I lit up like a Christmas tree. 

“You bought me a gift?”  I asked quizzically, unable to remove my excitement and thrill of a surprise. 

“It’s just a little so
mething for tonight.”  He smiled shyly.  “I hope you like it.”

“Can I open it now?”

“Of course.”

I carefully untied the bow and removed the tissue paper.  He bought me a gorgeous black charmeuse knee-length dress for me to wear for the evening.  I pulled out the silky fabric and gazed at the dress.  It was really lovely. 

“Do you like it?”  He looked concerned that I hadn’t said anything.

             
“I love it, it’s gorgeous.”  It was breathtaking.  All of a sudden, I didn’t know how to feel about it.  He had bought me a gift, a rather expensive gift.  Before I could think too much into it he distracted me.

             
“I’m glad you like it. I thought we could go to the Artisanal tonight. Do you need anything to go with the dress?”

             
“You’re too sweet Thomas.  This dress is plenty.” 

             
“Should we head to your place so you can change?”  I squirmed in my seat.  I didn’t want him to see my apartment.  He noticed my hesitation.  “You don’t have to wear the dress tonight, I just thought that you’d like it.”  He paused, “You look quite stunning as you are now.” 

             
He was being far too kind.  I was in tight blue jeans and a loose halter chiffon top and nude stilettos, my favorite stilettos.  I did try to primp this morning, knowing that I would be seeing him tonight, and I touched up my makeup before heading out to meet him in the parking lot, but I don’t think my appearance would fall into the category of striking.  Now the dress I held in my hands, it was stunning.  Before I could object to wearing my current attire, Thomas insisted.

             
“You look stunning, we’ll save this dress for another occasion.”  He grabbed my hand and gave it a small kiss as we pulled up to the red light.

             
“I love the dress, I can wear it tonight.”

             
“How about you wear it next weekend?”  He grinned at me.  “As long as you are available to see me then.”  I blushed; I would be available for him whenever he wanted.

             
He continued to charm me all evening.  We sat in a private room and tried a variety of red wine with an assorted cheese fondue.  I feel my mouth water just thinking about how delectable the food was.  We spent nearly 5 hours at the restaurant, chatting and laughing, enjoying each other’s company.  It was so easy talking to him.  I wanted more though; I didn’t just want to talk.  The previous two dates, I gave him a small kiss at the entrance to my apartment, and that’s how the night ended.  I was fighting with myself; I wanted so badly to invite him upstairs.  I wondered how that would make me look.  Is three dates enough to sleep with him?  I didn’t want to come off as a slut but I really wanted to sleep with him.  He had to have known.  Towards the end of the night I let the alcohol help me.  I slowly caressed his hand, biting my lip.  I made every not-so-subtle flirtatious suggestion, letting him know I was ready, that I wanted him. 

             
He held my hand as he walked with me to the entrance of my apartment.  I smiled shyly at the ground; I’d decided to ask him, the wine gave me courage.  He gave me a soft sweet kiss as he held the small of my back, holding me to him. 

             
“Thank you again for a wonderful evening, Emma.  I look forward to seeing you this weekend, in your new dress.”

             
“Would you like some coffee?”  I asked biting my lip, trying to tempt him.

             
He shook his head, “I have to get going.”  I parted my mouth to protest. His denial stung my ego.  “I’ll see you this weekend.”  He shut me down.  I couldn’t believe it. 

             
“You looked beautiful tonight Emma.”  I blushed.  He gave me another small kiss and then released me.  I was confused but happy none-the-less. 

             
I sat for almost an hour wondering why he hadn’t taken me up on my offer.  I knew that he knew I wanted him.  I considered texting him to ask why he had to leave but I put the phone back down.  I smiled knowing that I was going to see him the upcoming weekend.  That was enough for me to feel secure.   I’d just picked up my article to give myself a distraction when I heard Kate banging at the door. I practically ran to let her in.