In some ways it was a relief that Simon rushed away. Being around him was difficult especially after letting him touch me. What the hell had I been thinking? I hadn’t been. I’d been living in the past when he and I were happy.
His right-hand man Marvin got me squared away, despite the tirade I went on about how awful his boss was and how I still intended to expose him. When my car arrived with the flat tire fixed, I rushed to it and sped up the long drive. I wanted to be gone when Simon returned.
When I reached the highway though, the dam on my emotions burst, and I wept. I hit the steering wheel so angry at myself for letting him get to me. For letting myself get caught up in our history. He now had something he could use against me and I was sure he would. For all I knew, he was right now out telling people that I’d slept with him, ruining my journalistic integrity.
But along with my self-recrimination was such grief. I’d thought I was over him. I’d thought that by recognizing that he hadn’t been the man I thought he was, I’d let him go. But the minute he kissed me, when his gentle hands caressed me, all that longing for the life I’d once thought we’d had came rushing back. He was the only man I’d ever felt so close too, which was strange considering how closed off he was. But I thought he’d let me in, and that had made me feel like he trusted me. Maybe even loved me.
But I didn’t know him. Not really. I mean, he was the one to kick me out when I told him I was pregnant. He’d abandoned me and my child, and yet he was pissed at me? Why was he so sure I was lying? So sure that he didn’t even want to talk to me?
When my crying calmed enough to drive, I put the car in gear, but it was immediately clear that I couldn’t make the drive home. I was emotionally wrought. I didn’t want my mother and son to see me like this.
I made the left hand turn back toward Salvation. I got my old room in the hotel for one more night and called home.
“Are you alright?” my mother asked, which told me I’d clearly not done a good enough job to keep my emotional state hidden.
“Just tired. I had car trouble and now I just want to rest. I’ll come home first thing tomorrow.”
My mother ran her own business from home, which was a God-send because it meant she could watch Mason for me when I worked.
“Is that my mommy?” I heard Mason’s voice in the background.
“Yes, sweetie. Here,” my mother said.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, baby. How are you?” I focused on his voice and all the love I had for him. Simon was an asshole, but it was hard to totally despise the man that gave me my beautiful boy.
“Are you almost home?”
“No. I have to stay one more night.”
“But you said you’d be home.”
I closed my eyes as guilt flooded me. What the hell sort of mother was I? Why was I doing this story? Why had I just slept with the man who betrayed me and my son? I should be with Mason.
“I know baby. I had some car trouble. I’m going to get up really early tomorrow and come home to see you, okay.”
He sniffed. “’k.”
“Did you and grandma have a good day today.”
“Yeah. We made cookies for you.”
God, could this day get any worse? “I’ll want one first thing when I get home tomorrow.” I chatted with him a bit more and then said goodnight. When I got off the phone, I was both exhausted and wired. What I needed was a drink, but this little motel didn’t have stocked mini-fridges or a restaurant.
Washing my face, I headed down the street to Salvation Station, a local bar and restaurant. It was still a bit early for the dinner rush, so not many people were there. Ryder Simms was behind the bar. Seeing him made me think of Simon’s cheap tricks and I decided to switch my order from wine to something stronger.
“Hey, Erica,” Ryder smiled. “What can I get you?”
“Vodka and coke.” Booze and sugar. That’s what I needed.
“You back for your story?” he asked as he poured my drink.
“Yes.” Although, I didn’t have a story. Not anymore. “I’m heading home tomorrow.”
“You must have a lot of dirt on Stark now. You’ve been working on this story for months.” He set my drink in front of me. Several months ago, I’d walked in here to start that story and met Ryder for the first time. He was handsome and friendly, and for a moment I found myself drawn to him. Or perhaps distracted was a better way to put it. But it was clear that he and Trina were meant to be, even if Trina didn’t know it or want to acknowledge it at the time.
“It’s in depth for sure,” I said, taking a long swig of my drink. “Tell me, Ryder, when you learned that the gig you were playing for Stark was for Wallace, why didn’t you leave? Did Stark threaten you?”