I know who I need an embrace from, and as much as one from this woman would be nice, she isn’t Spade.
I haven’t been able to get him off my mind. Time doesn’t matter, and I’m a fool for trying to convince myself that it would help.
The same pain I felt moments after he walked away from me has only magnified.
I don’t know how many times I’ve stared at that last text suggesting we get dinner.
I know where it would lead, and as much as my body wants to spend time under him, I’d only be disappointed.
Taming a man like Spade is impossible. He’s meant to be free, and although I’d like to think I could domesticate the man and turn him into someone who only has eyes for one woman, I know it would be impossible.
I can’t lie and say that my thoughts of him are consistent either. One minute, I want his arms around me, whispers of a future we could build together against my skin. The next minute, I’m desperate for his rough hands on my body, his cock filling me the way I know only he can.
One day, I think I could love him. The next, I want to strangle even the thought of him.
In the end, either way I go, I still end up alone.
My fantasies have become so realistic, I can’t hold on to the thoughts of him being only mine for very long.
I’ve turned into a pessimist despite how lucky I’ve been in recent months.
Even with things going right in all areas of my life other than my romantic life, I still just can’t let myself be happy.
Once, I was a woman able to take life as it came. I wasn’t dependent on anyone but myself, and now I don’t just feel like I’m missing something integral to happiness, I know I am.
But my idea of him will never match up to the reality.
“Is it a man giving you wrinkles at such an early age?”
I huff a laugh at her brazen question.
“Are you asking from experience?”
“Only a man would make such a beautiful young woman frown.”
My lip twitches in agreement as I twist my hands together in my lap.
“Marriage stress, sex stress, kid stress, work stress. It’s all related to men.”
I can see her reasoning to a point.
“I’ve only made it to the ripe old age of ninety-eight because I avoided all of it. The secret to a long happy life is great sex, no kids, no man.”
I laugh from my gut. She may be on to something, but at the same time, I know the damage has already been done. I might have held her beliefs six months ago, when I was able to be wild and free, but after Spade is an entirely different story. I now know what it’s like to take comfort from a man when I’m said and upset, when the guilt is swimming inside of me thicker than the blood keeping me alive.
“There you are, Mrs. Paget. They’re looking for you inside,” Sunshine says as she joins us.
The nurse helps the woman stand, situating her walker in front of her. We both watch her slowly make her way back inside.
“Mrs.?” I ask, drawing a confused look from Sunshine. “You called her Mrs. Paget, but don’t you mean Ms.? As in not married?”
Sunshine chuckles. “Did she give you the no marriage, no man speech?”
I nod, a smile already growing on my face because I’m getting the feeling I’ve just been swindled by an old lady.
“And how old did she say she was?”
“Ninety-eight.”