Message from a Mistress (14 page)

And she absolutely refused to admit to her inner circle that her marriage was over, especially since she was the one who had the affair. She couldn’t chance that getting out. The whispers behind her back and to her face? The scorn of the church and her sorors?

She still thought those things were far worse to face than the constant humiliation that Eric put her through.

Jaime was pulled from her memories, sure that Eric was more than angry at her. He hated her. He had to. What else could fuel the way he demeaned her?

And who knew that such rage existed in him? Such a mean streak? Such vindictiveness? Perhaps he was truly enjoying it and just was looking for a reason to break loose with his unreasonable ways.

Seriously, Jaime was starting to think—in her best Aria imitation—that motherfucker was straight crazy.

She dropped her head in her hands but not before she saw Mrs. Wiggins drive by in her white Volvo station wagon. She glanced up the street and all of the chitchat at the fence was done. One of them must have spotted her car as well.

“You see that?” Mrs. Killinger called over.

But Jaime didn’t answer. She didn’t even look in Mrs. Killinger’s direction and she made herself focus her eyes away from that white picket fence down the street. She had drama of her own to deal with. Maybe she had swept around so many other doors that she missed the dirty drama going on in her own house.

Jaime smiled a bit as she thought of their wedding day. Her parents had made it the fairy tale she always dreamed of, all the way down to her arriving to the church in a white horse-drawn carriage. When she walked down the aisle she honestly thought her prince was waiting for her at the altar.

But now?

Now her life, day in and day out, was a nightmare. The dream had long since faded. The only bright spots in her day was her friends and her family, but even that was growing on her because in truth she was tiring of the facade.

Tired of the humiliation.

The punishment.

The degradation.

She wanted to hear “I love you.”

I forgive you.

I need you.

Jaime released a heavy breath as she rose to her feet and walked back inside the home she cherished. This was her showplace. Her domain. She’d imagined many happy years here. Years filled with love and family.

Not pain and torture.

She held herself close because they’d plotted out their lives, but all of their plans were fading into nothing with time. Next year they were going to start a family. And Jaime was ready to be a mother, but how would she get pregnant if her own husband wouldn’t fuck her without a condom anymore?

Truth be told? It was all too much.

Stay with Eric and risk living this lonely and phony life that was beginning to look bleaker without children to love.

Leave Eric and risk the shame and ridicule from her parents and friends for sleeping with a stripper and cheating on her husband. Plus start over. Plus leave her dream home and give up her status and financially comfortable life.

Face the humiliation of her husband leaving her for one of her best friends.

All of it came flooding into her like a series of emotional body blows.

Shame.

Humiliation.

Fear.

The pressure of a rock and a hard place nearly squeezed the life from her.

It was too much.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said softly, clutching at her chest as she began to hyperventilate.

Jaime raced up the stairs to her bedroom suite, shivering as she struggled to calm herself. She made her way to the bathroom and tightly grasped the edges of the sink and stared at her reflection. Searching for herself. Looking for a sign of some happiness. Needing some peace.

It was all too much.

As one tear raced down her cheek, Jaime screamed from the pit of her tortured soul and raised her fists to slam against the mirror.

It shattered.

She gasped as shards cut her hands, piercing her flesh, slashing her hands and arms. Her blood flowed in tiny streams, dropping into the sink.

She didn’t care because even then, with the pain of her injuries, she looked at the hundred different reflections and the pain in her eyes—the pain reflected from her soul—was far worse.

Jaime slid to the floor and cried gut-wrenching tears that echoed in the bathroom. The tears of a broken spirit.

I wish the glass had slit my wrists,
she thought.

And that thought scared her.

“I’d rather die than face my marriage and fix my life?” she asked herself aloud in a haunted whisper as blood continued to stream from her hands and arms onto the floor and her clothes.

Jaime closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe. Forced herself to find the calm. Forced herself to fight through the darkness that had been her private hell for months. Forced herself to look beyond the facade she presented that she had begun to fool herself with. Forced herself to get to the real.

Her marriage couldn’t continue like this.

Jessa Bell or not.

“Lord, I plead with You, Heavenly Father, to forgive my sins. Forgive my lies. Cleanse me, Father. Make me whole again. Lead me down the right path. I’m afraid of living in truth, but I am more afraid of taking my own life. And I know that I need You now more than ever. I am calling on You to strengthen me and help me fight to live a better life. I am calling on You to help me strengthen myself.”

Jaime left bloody handprints on the plush carpeting as she worked her way to her feet to try and stand on solid ground—physically and emotionally.

She cried silently, and with each passing second she prayed for the strength not to give up or give in.

She picked up the shards of glass and prayed for the will to pick up the pieces of herself.

As she made her way over to the phone, she prayed for the power to change her life step by step, one day at a time.

She dialed her parents.

“Hello.”

Jaime opened her mouth to speak but stopped herself as she looked at the blood drying on her hands.

“Jaime? Are you there?”

Jaime balled up her fist and banged it against the wall. “Hey…hey, Mama,” she said finally, her heart pounding terribly as she fought back the tears.

“Is something wrong, Jaime?”

“Mama, I…Eric…we…we are having some serious problems…and I don’t know what to do,” she admitted in a soft voice filled with her emotions. The pain. The anger. The regret. The confusion. The fear.

The line went quiet and the silence shook Jaime because she realized in that moment that she had no idea what her mother would say or which way her mother would go.

“What’s going on, Jaime?” she asked.

“I’m not happy,” was all that she said, not at all prepared to reveal her affair. Not yet. “Mama, sometimes I sit in the house all day and I cry, Mama, I ache, I hurt and I don’t tell a soul but, Mama, I’m tired.”

“Why are you unhappy? You have a beautiful home, a good husband, a good life. Some women would kill to be in your shoes.”

Jaime laughed bitterly through her tears as she thought of Eric and his whip. “No, they wouldn’t, Mama,” she insisted softly as she slumped down on the edge of her perfectly made bed.

“Did he have an affair? The Bible speaks of forgiveness and a woman standing by her husband until death. You knew that when you went to that altar.”

“It wasn’t Eric, Mama, it was me,” she said, surprising herself.

Some of the weight on her shoulders lifted even as her mother gasped in horror. Some of the veil was lifted and she didn’t know the repercussions of her admission…and she was quickly learning not to care. Not even if it meant living or dying.

“The truth is the light, Mama, and I’m sick of the dark,” Jaime said, ready to wash the guilty blood from her hands.

“G
irl, you are beaming. Do I smell new dick in your life?”
Aria’s brows furrowed and her fingertips paused on the keys of her laptop as she’d remembered the innocent question she’d asked Jessa just a few weeks before. She was trying her very best to focus on her column but was failing miserably. It was hard to pretend that Jessa Bell had never sent that message. It was hard to pretend that she was waiting to see if she was the victim of a betrayal.

Aria typed the word “betray” into the dictionary search box for her computer. Of the four definitions listed, she found that one truly suited her best:

On their wedding day, Kingston had promised her fidelity, but those summers she’d shared with her crazy-ass cousin had taught her men were not to be trusted. Although Aria had always lived waiting for the other shoe to fall with some cheating bs she still was caught off guard by this ish.

When she graduated from high school, Aria was hell-bent and determined to get her shit together. Her goal was to become the exact opposite of the trick she made herself into during those long hot summers.

Her school grades never really suffered, and during her senior year she excelled once she put true effort into her studies.

She pushed her laptop off her lap and rose to her feet, knowing she had no hopes of getting any work done. Not when her mind was so preoccupied.

“Girl, you are beaming. Do I smell new dick in your life?”

Aria shook her head at being played for a dang-on fool….

“Damn, she fine as hell.”

Aria smiled a bit as she looked over at the table of suit-clad men sitting beside her. The smile faded as she saw the eyes were not on her. She followed their line of vision. Jessa stood at the door looking around the crowded restaurant. She fought not to roll her eyes.

She should be used to Jessa getting all of the attention when they were together. Her friend’s light caramel complexion, long hair, and endless curves stroked the hot spots of most men.

Easing out of her chair, Aria smoothed her stretchy turtleneck and fitted black jeans over her own curves as she stood up and made a big gesture of waving Jessa over. Out the corner of her eye she saw the men eyeing her as well
. Humph, I thought so.

Jessa waved as she eased her wide hips through the crowd to reach her. “Hey, Aria, I’m glad you got a table. It is packed in here,” she said, sliding onto the chair as she sat her monogrammed denim Louis Vuitton on the seat next to Aria’s Coach tote.

Aria eyed her friend. The brightness of her eyes and slight flush in her cheeks. There seemed to be an excited air surrounding her. “Girl, you are beaming. Do I smell new dick in your life?”

Jessa looked at her over the rim of the leather-bound menu. “Huh?” she asked, just the hint of a smile at her peach gloss-covered lips.

Aria’s mouth formed into an O as she reached across the table to grasp Jessa’s hand. “You heard me
. Don’t
play, Jessa
.”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” she said lightly.

Aria gasped. “So you are seeing someone,” she said in wonder as she released Jessa’s hand and reached for her goblet of white wine.

Jessa shrugged, closing the menu to sit beside her plate. “Yes,” she admitted.

Aria saw her reluctance. “Jessa, don’t feel guilty for moving on. Just because Marc passed on doesn’t mean your life had to be put on pause,” she assured her. “It’s been years, and you deserve to be loved on, loved up, and just purely loved again.”

Jessa smiled but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Aria eyed her over the rim of her goblet. “When do we get to meet him?” she asked.

“Um…we’re taking things real slow, so the whole meeting of the family and friends thing won’t be happening…anytime soon,” Jessa said, opening the menu again to cover her face.

Aria lifted up in her chair to pull the menu back down. “Tell me about him, and I want it all. Men are like plans…it’s all in the details.”

Jessa cast her eyes out the window and a soft smile curved her lips. “I’ll just say this. He’s an amazing man. An amazing friend. And an amazing lover,” she admitted, actually dropping her head as she blushed.

Aria smiled. “You’re already in the sex zone? This thing has been going on for a while, then,” Aria said assuredly, knowing her friend.

Jessa just shrugged.

“Why the secrecy?”

“It’s just different because he isn’t Marc and all of my friends were Marc’s friends. I don’t know. It all just kinda happened and I just want to hold on to it and cherish it a little before we let the world in.”

“Aww,” Aria sighed playfully.

“Girl, hush,” Jessa said, pointedly picking up her menu. “I am starving and in the mood for seafood.”

“Where did you meet him?”

“Um…through a mutual friend.”

“Who? Someone I know?”

“Not really,” Jessa said vaguely.

“Wow, you really are keeping him under wraps, huh?”

Jessa reached for her sweating goblet of water.

“Is he good to you?” Aria asked, truly wanting her friend to be happy.

Jessa locked her eyes with Aria’s. “Yes,” she answered with a light in her eyes. “It is nothing that I expected but everything I never knew I wanted.”

Aria nodded as she leaned back to allow the waiter to set a goblet of ice water down in front of her. She lightly touched the sleeve of his crisp white shirt. “Please bring us a bottle of champagne,” she ordered politely.

Jessa looked surprised.

“We are going to celebrate your new Boo,” Aria said, feeling—and ignoring—the eyes of the men at the neighboring table.

“I must admit that he
is
worth celebrating,” Jessa said.

“Humph. That good, huh?” Aria teased.

Jessa laughed a bit. “Yes, but it’s more than that now. It’s really good, you know, and hopefully…hopefully we’ll be able to take it to the next level. I know that I want to and he says he wants to.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet him and add him to our little circle and get to know him,” Aria said, completely curious about Jessa’s mystery man.

Jessa smiled as she met Aria’s stare. “Yeah…one day everyone will know just who he is. Just wait…you’ll see. You’ll all see.”

Aria shook her head as anger consumed her at the thought that Jessa had been talking about Kingston—her husband—the whole time. Jessa had played her like a fool with her vague answers cleverly cloaking her betrayal of a friend. The same way she was playing the hell out of them now.

Aria would give anything to see Jessa. She was a mature, self-confident woman who knew how to effectively use brain over brawn…but she would love to whip Jessa Bell’s ass six ways ’til Sunday. And not a bitchy and whiny slapfest, but she wanted to land some hardcore gut punches and vicious roundhouse kicks.

But whupping Jessa’s ass wouldn’t change the fact that only a marriage without a solid foundation could crumble at the hands of an outside person. Jessa or any other woman shouldn’t have ever been an issue.

And she shouldn’t feel so assured that her husband—the man she loved and cherished—was the culprit.

Not once since they received the infamous message had the thought crossed Aria’s mind that it
wasn’t
Kingston. Not once. What did that say about the state of her marriage? Where was her faith in him and why was it so easily lacking?

She thought of her past, her secrets, her shame.

“My marriage might be over,” she said aloud as she walked to her office windows and looked out at the street below.

Her dulled eyes landed on the house across the street. Vaguely she noticed Jasper Wiggins and Kelly Ortiz talking across their fence. Aria’s eyebrows arched at the look of intimacy between them. They weren’t touching or even standing that close together, but there was an air of familiarity between them that went far beyond “Howdy, neighbor.”

Had the concept of fidelity completely flown out the window?

Suddenly Jasper and Kelly both moved away from that fence. That whole scene made Aria frown. Jasper and Kelly were on their respective porches walking into their homes. She’d never seen roaches scurry away that fast. Moments later Victoria Wiggins drove up in her Volvo wagon and pulled into the driveway. Of course it could be a coincidence, but in light of Jessa’s betrayal, Aria was even more suspect of everything. Aria’s eyes shifted to Victoria, who just stood by the car with her head shifting back and forth between the two houses.

“Humph, that’s right, Vicky, don’t sleep on it,” Aria said aloud. “Follow your gut, Boo, because they up to no good.”

Damn, is everybody double dipping?

Just like Jessa and Kingston.

She’d hidden her scandalous past and even lied about a vital part of their future, but not once had she reverted to her old ways and cheated on Kingston. Today her anger and pain had her flirt dangerously close to the idea of sexing Malcolm, but even then she couldn’t quite push herself to grab the dick and go for a ride.

Once she met and then fell in love with Kingston, she knew that his heart and his dick was all that she needed. The day they got married she felt like she had finally outrun her past and was claiming a better future. She had vowed to be a good wife: the lover, the friend, the caregiver, the whole nine yards.

And now all of that could slip through her fingers just like that?

The thought of that scared the shit out of her.

Being angry was easy.

Wanting to fight Jessa and kill Kingston was a breeze.

“So now what?” she wondered aloud as she glanced down at her watch. Four hours and counting.

Surely Kingston or any of the men wouldn’t leave without saying a word, offering an explanation?

“Humph.” Then again, maybe Kingston was smart, because if he dared to tell her he was leaving her she would’ve immediately gone into kick-ass mode.

Especially when he
promised
that he would never leave her….

Aria stepped out onto the spacious balcony of the hotel’s ballroom terrace, smiling up at the stars with love and laughter in her heart and her eyes. She looked over her bare shoulder at her tuxedo-clad husband before she twirled in her wedding gown with her arms splayed wide. “Mrs. Kingston Livewell,” she said with a soft smile of pure satisfaction.

“Any regrets?” he asked.

“About us? Never. But I wish I had taken my grown-girl pill and called to invite Jessa. It’s been years since we fell out, but we used to daydream about being in each other’s weddings.”

“I won’t say I told you so.”

Aria side-eyed him. “Thanks.”

“After our honeymoon, you make the first step to reconnect. But for now,” he said, walking up behind her to wrap his strong arms around her, “today is the first day of the rest of
our
lives together.”

Aria tilted her head back against his shoulder. “Yes,” she sighed, truly feeling like she had found her prince.

Aria thought of her past and what all she had overcome to better herself, to stop being a trick and a thief, to be the woman her mother raised her to be. And she had. Now, not too many years later, here she was a college graduate and married to a handsome doctor who made her feel like he adored her.

For a moment, Aria thought about her past and her secrets. Things she knew she could never share with this man…her man.

The men.

The wild sex.

The weed and liquor.

The stealing.

All of it.

What woman wanted to tell a man that she was fucking out of both pants legs and even had a train or two run on her?

What woman wanted to ’fess up that all of the sexual tricks she used on him she learned before she was sixteen?

Pushing aside memories of a line of sweat-funky teenaged boys humping away between her thighs one after the other, Aria forced a smile to her lips as she turned in her husband’s embrace. “I had no idea when I interviewed you for the alumni column that we would wind up married.”

“Even though you were throwing me sexy eyes?” he teased.

“I did not,” Aria protested, lightly pounding on his broad shoulders. “You weren’t my type…or so I thought.”

“Oh, really? So what was your type, because I know I am the S-H-I-T forever more.”

“Yes, you are,” Aria agreed, even as she shifted her eyes away from him. Back when making money and hustling was paramount she had no type. Anything with a pulse and a dick was fair game back then.