She stands to leave with the list of items on her agenda for the day, and I watch in silence, wanting to run after her. There is nothing I can do, nothing I should do to stop her. She was right to end a relationship with a man who made it clear he valued her for only one thing and then allowed that relationship to threaten her career. She’s exactly right … but only because she doesn’t really see me, she doesn’t see what I really want from her.
Chapter 16
The next week with Jordan passes uneventfully. Sad but true. Every moment I must spend with him is strained and difficult. My body relaxes the moment I see him as though he’s some missing link in my happiness, but then I remember he’s no longer a part of my life, however casual his part in my life may have been. As soon as my emotions catch up to what my brain understands, we’re not going to be together again, the peace his presence brings to my body dissipates and leaves me resentful and petulant.
We’ve not had any further run-ins with Mark Lear at the work site, but every time the executives at Trigg show up on site, I’m certain they’re going to say something about Jordan and me. For that matter, every time I pass Foster in the hallway, I expect the same. It’s as though I’m waiting for an ax to fall on my future that is in many ways held in the clutches of a resentful prick who should never have been stupid enough to come on to me. Mark’s threat looms over us both, but Jordan shows none of my fear and concern. He hardly shows anything at all anymore.
When we work together, he’s still fair, honest in his assessment of my work, quick to compliment if it’s warranted, and quick to challenge me if necessary, but what I see when he’s not looking hurts the most. I used to catch him staring at me all the time, roving over my body or studying my face. He was tracking me constantly. Now, his gaze is often off in some distant world that doesn’t include me. When I do catch him watching me, he’s quick to look away, breaking my heart every time.
At night I dream of him. His voice is in my head, murmuring quiet, intoxicating, and incredibly inappropriate words in my ear. His strong hands and the caress of his breath are on my skin as he trails his mouth across my flesh. I can remember so easily the feel of his hard arousal forcing its way into my body. I can still see the mischievous glint in his eyes as he pushes me past my comfort zone, and more than anything, I can still sense the desperate need in his soul. He wanted me once, unexplainably; it was all about me, and now that need is gone and I’m left cold.
My hand just naturally seeks my release in his absence, my fingers exploring in much the same way his did. I’ve never much been a fan of masturbation, always chastising even my inability to do this act effectively, thinking I must be pathetic. I have always been my worst enemy after all, and even self-pleasure was a challenge to my need to criticize myself. But I miss him. I need the release he so easily gave me. I believed I deserved it with him. I didn’t care if my orgasm tore through my body with a guttural groan; I wanted it, and now he’s gone, and my body misses it. It’s no use though. I’m back to hating my inept pathetic touch, wishing instead it was his. Why oh why do I need to loathe myself so intensely? He had broken me of my need to over-judge, over-criticize, over-hate myself. He was honest, fair, genuine, and he made me feel worthy of my life, my future, even of him. But I threw him away.
It was my choice. I did this to myself. I did this to us, but the idea of being some passing whim, another notch in his bed post, just another pathetic woman to be sucked into his fleeting fantasy, is too much. Feeling out of place in this town, this firm, this life I’ve set myself up for is nothing new, but I’ve fought for this tooth and nail. I don’t want to see him destroyed for what we’ve done anymore than me, and at the same time I’m ready to run and hide in Des Moines the moment I graduate. He’s built me up, and oddly, I’m the one who’s tearing me down. It’s true I’ve not had any job offers here, but it’s the combination of it all that has me ready to run. It’s this life that is still so foreign to me; it’s this career I’m not so sure will embrace me; it’s Vera; it’s Mark; it’s as if my life is somehow over without him; it’s no longer having him there to support me through all of those things.
My parents will be arriving the following Tuesday, and the weekend is a much-needed, though unwanted, break from Jordan. Kelli spends the better part of Saturday and Sunday nursing my beat-up ego and trying her damndest to assure me I’m worthy of my life. She’s angry at him, which is odd considering this was my choice, but rallying with her on my side is still powerful … until Monday hits and my resolve, my strength, my damn resolution to see this thing through fails me completely.
I have to tell Jordan my parents want to visit the site, and I’m terrified. I speak to him every day, and yet this has me frightened. I don’t expect him to do anything but assure me it’s fine, but it’s the personal aspect that has me trilling with worry. Hiding myself from him is how I’ve escaped the emotional torture of losing him, but this will put my life squarely in front of him. If he’s there, which he likely will be, he’ll meet them. They’ll see the man who has turned my life upside down and tied my heart into knots. Part of me wants him to meet my parents, see where I came from, see who I am, but part of me is terrified to share myself so thoroughly with someone that I must, by sheer necessity, keep at arm’s length.
As I enter his office Monday afternoon with this very conversation in mind, I’m shaking with nerves. He looks from his computer and pauses at my likely terrified expression. “Adeline, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” His words are tender, his expression concerned, and it melts my heart, as it always does, when he looks at me in that incredible gentle way he has with me.
“Uh … my parents are coming to town tomorrow… Just a long overnight layover on their way to D.C.” I can barely speak as he watches me. “They want to visit … visit the site… I can tell them it’s not a good idea, but I thought I’d ask…”
“Of course; it’s fine.” He looks uncomfortable at my nervousness, but his words are genuine. “I think that’s a great idea. You should absolutely show them what you’ve been working on. You’ve done a great job on this project. It supersedes anything I’ve seen an intern do. You should be proud of the job you’ve done.” The furrow of his brow shows his understanding of my hesitation. He believes in me. Even after everything that has happened, he’s pushing me forward, propelling me onward. He’s proud of me, and he wants me to share this with them.
I leave quickly after thanking him, relief washing over me. His words were as true and honest as always, but they leave me empty, just another reminder of the support I’ve lost. But he wants my parents to visit the site. He was nearly adamant they should, and I’m suddenly ready to see them. They’ll arrive fairly late this evening and will then leave on the next leg of their journey at five thirty tomorrow evening. We have only a short period of time together, but I’m reassured.
Chapter 17
When they arrive, my ears prick with immediate interest. Adeline and I have been onsite since morning, overseeing the installation of the custom cabinetry in the kitchen. It’s something of a nostalgic experience for me. I don’t usually hang out at the site so much as I do with her, but she needs to experience the full effect of seeing her design come to life, and I want to be here to watch that happen, never mind the constant fear I have of Mark showing up once again.