“I want to know your name,” she tells me.
“It’s irrelevant.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes,” I adamantly tell her, not wanting to discuss it anymore, “it is.”
She gives me a strange look, probably wondering why I’m so desperate to keep my name from her. I’m not some criminal on the run, and I’m not ashamed of who I am. But my image isn’t necessarily innocent either. Tabloids can be your greatest enemy – I was my own biggest enemy once – and I’m happy she knows nothing about it.
Truth is, I’m used to being hated. I’m a tech god so I’m the devil incarnated to the public who see me make a fortune a year and think I sit back and watch the money grow without working for it. I’m cut-throat and owning one of the most used payment platforms in the world means I have to fight hard to be at the top. They don’t see the twenty-hour days I put in, or the endless conferences I must be present for, or the amount of traveling I do.
They don’t see shit. And I’m exhausted by the image, too exhausted to correct it every time. But I live this way because it’s better than who I used to be. I’m putting distance to that shadow, running away from it because if I don’t, it might catch up to me.
We stare at each other a little while longer. There’s still that want for me radiating out of her. I close the gap between us and settle a hand against her face. She stills at the touch, her eyes meeting mine. There isn’t conflict there like before. She’s in that I-don’t-give-a-fuck state, and I could take advantage of it if I was so inclined to.
I move a little closer and run my thumb along her soft lips. Her eyes flutter and close, and I’m so close to her, my body is pressed against her. I push her back until she’s against the glass door, and I run my nose along the side of her face, shutting my own eyes as I take all her scent in. Jesus, I’ve never been so close to a woman and not have had my way by now.
The temptation to push her shorts off and pull my zipper down is strong as a fucking tidal wave. My cock is starving, and I’m pulled in by this girl’s allure. I can fuck her right here. Pick her up, have her legs wrapped around my waist as I plunge myself so deep in her, I can feel her quivering walls around my dick.
I let out a sharp breath and pull away instead. She opens her eyes as I stop a couple feet away from her. I can feel my body quaking, that urge so fucking strong it’s debilitating my senses. I have to get away from her.
“Tell me one thing,” I say, swallowing back the ache in my being, “what has he done to you?”
Her eyes are filled with pain as her lips part. “He…he cheated on me.”
I nod and try to control the anger bubbling within me. “You ever thought of doing that back?”
“Only once.”
The way she’s looking at me, I know she’s talking about us. I’m her temptation. I’m what she could use to get back at the asshole who cheated on this beautiful woman. She wouldn't even be cheating on him if we did, and that's a tempting thought.
But…she’d never live with herself if she did it for that reason.
“Why are you coming back here?” I find myself asking. He doesn’t deserve you, I want to say, but that sounds so cliché and she must know that already.
“I…” she pauses and looks down at her feet. “It’s not black and white, Aidan.”
“Help me understand.”
“We’ve been through a lot. I’ve been with him for many years. We went through a very difficult time.”
“That doesn’t excuse his behavior.”
“I know.”
“He’ll never win back your trust.”
Her face darkens. “I know.”
“Do you love him? Is that why you’re back here?”
She purses her lips, saying nothing.
I want to run my finger down her forlorn face, want to tell her to ditch the cheating husband and move the fuck on so I can take her to my place and fuck her to oblivion. They’re selfish thoughts I must gulp down.
“Part of me doesn’t want to go through those doors,” she says, turning her attention to them. “I don’t want it to be real, Aidan. Because I know what’s going to happen. The cycle resumes and I slowly get eaten up by it. If I had a choice…if I truly had a choice…” she pauses now in thought.
I watch her intently. “You don’t have a choice, Ivy?”
Is she stuck?
“It’s more than that,” she eventually answers. “It’s telling my legs to walk for the final time. It’s…” She lets out a shuddering breath. “I’m not just falling back into it, Aidan. I’m not going to pretend everything is okay again. We’re separated, and that’s not going to change…”
“Then why are you back?” I repeat.
“Because…” her voice trails away.
Because she has nowhere to go? Or is it something else?
I have to fight the white knight in me I didn’t even know existed. I feel like I could offer her help, but…fuck, I can’t bring myself to do it. There’s something about Ivy that tells me I’m not going to get away from her unscathed.
Like Ruth said, I must protect myself.
“What happens if you walk through those doors and you’re done with him for good?” My voice is low, needy. I’m desperate to find out. "What happens to you then?"
She looks up at me and I’m drowning in her blue eyes. “I don’t know.”
She. Doesn’t. Know?
It’s not the answer I want. Not at all.
“It was nice to meet you, Ivy,” I let out, and the words taste bitter.
Ivy’s face falls. Disappointment flashes in her eyes, but she knew it was going to come to this. And
