Til Death Do Us Trope (Tropes 1)

I can deal with it. I love my husband, and I know he loves me, but it’s been crazy lately, and I worry that maybe it isn’t just work that’s keeping him away. Maybe it’s me. What if I don’t hold the same appeal I once did? What if the novelty has worn off in the same way it seemed to with my own parents? I grit my teeth, trying to push that insecurity back.

But that just doesn’t add up, not with the way Phillip touches me. He makes love to me every night when he crawls into bed, even after a long day at work. He can’t go to sleep without having me first.

Except last night. I don’t know when he got home, and that was a first. I fell asleep before he got home and woke with him kissing me goodbye early this morning. He said he had a big meeting to prep for and that he’d tell me about everything this weekend.

“Is there something else? You don’t seem your normal self.” Cindy releases the hand she had on my arm to study me. She’s very good at reading people. In fact, she told me the first time we met that we’d be good friends, and we have been.

And she’s right. There is something else. The very thing that’s started to plant little seeds of doubt in my mind. The thing that has me thinking a lot more about all those long work hours over the past month.

“He got a new secretary,” I finally spit out, knowing Cindy would get it out of me, so there was no use hiding it.

“Oh, I heard Debra retired.”

I nod. Yep, Debra left over a month ago and moved to Florida to enjoy her retirement with her husband. I loved that woman. She was always so sweet, and whenever I called or stopped by, she made it seem like the most important thing was my seeing my husband, no matter what he was doing. Everything else would be put on hold and meetings would be interrupted.

The new one, not so much.

“Don’t even say it.” Cindy leans back in her chair, her auburn hair swaying around her face.

I can’t even say it. It’s so cliché, I can’t let the words pass my lips. She looks the cliché, too. Tall, thin, big blue eyes, and blonde hair that always seems to be utterly perfect. Just like everything about her. Every hair always in place, and she walks around in five-inch heels all day long. I’d break my neck. It’s like she doesn’t even have to try.

“In fact, I’m not even going to let you say it. I mean, this is Phillip, for Christ’s sake.” She laughs like I’ve lost my mind. “The man is in love with you. I know you don’t know the pre-Molly Phillip, but I do.”

Cindy is one of my only friends in New York, and I’d met her through Phillip. It’s really how I met everyone here. I went from living in a boarding school, straight to college and right into Phillip’s condo. All my family and friends were thousands of miles away in Seattle.

“He was boring…well, he still kind of is.” She smirks like she just gave him a jab that he could really hear. “All work and no play. Until you. Why do you think the press went so wild? They’ve been trying to catch him with a woman for years, then he’s running all over town with one. Trust me, he’s not boinking the secretary. I’ve known him since college, and I’d never even seen him date until he met you.”

I know that’s true. I’d done my shameful Google search the first time I’d met him. It had come up with nothing. Never in a million years did I think he’d show interest in me. He is ten years older than me. I was barely twenty at the time we met. Some said he only did it to make his partnership with my father more solid. I never once thought that. He’d made me feel special, something no one had ever made me feel before. To be the center of someone's world was so foreign to me. I ate it up. Now that some of that center had shifted back to his work, things started to feel a little bit lonely again. Loneliness was a feeling he’d taken away from me the moment I’d met him. I don’t like it creeping back into the edges of my life again.

We’d dated for two months in secret, until my twenty-first birthday, then we’d come out as a couple and married one month later. He even made us wait until our wedding night before he took me fully. From the very start we both talked about wanting a family, and he said he never wanted anything between us, so we’d wait.

Well, we’d waited to go all the way at least. Phillip spent many nights with his mouth on me. Telling me all the things he’d do when I’d finally say “I do.” I can’t count how many nights he’d sneak into my room at my father’s house after they’d gotten done with some late-night meeting in my father's office. I’d go to bed alone and wake up to Phillip’s face between my legs. Some nights he’d go at me like he was starving. Other nights he’d make me promise over and over I was going to marry him before he’d finally give me what I need. He’d never let me return the favor. The closest I’d gotten to his cock before our wedding night was dry-humping, and his pants never came off or undone.

But do men really go months without sex? I push the thoughts away.

“I know. I’m being silly. I know he loves me. She’s just so freaking rude when I call or show up. I swear every time I see her she’s thrusting her giant boobs in his face or doing that stupid high-pitched laugh. Every time I call, she has some reason Phillip can’t take it. Every. Time.” I know all this, together with him working so much and me feeling alone in this giant city has morphed into this giant insecurity I’ve been feeling for the past few months.

“Say something,” Cindy snaps, leaning forward, her blue eyes narrowing like they always do when she’s squaring up for a fight. It’s what she often does in the courtroom.

“I know I should. I’ll speak to him about it. Just sometimes I feel a little out of place. I’m so much younger than everyone, and I know he’s running a company and I don’t want to be the needy, clingy wife who’s insecure.” I sometimes feel a little lost in his world, and it would be a lie if I didn’t think back to times I’d interrupted some of my father’s meetings, only to get snapped at and made to feel unimportant. I have a degree in art history, and I’m proud of that, but sometimes I felt a little lacking. But I know that’s my own doing. Phillip has never talked down to me or tried to exclude me from anything, but old insecurities run deep sometimes.

“Fuck that,” she tosses back, making me smile. One of the reasons I’ve gotten so close to Cindy is she isn’t like a lot of the other women I’ve met in New York. Nor is she like the wives of some of Phillip’s business associates. She always says what she’s thinking, and I want that to rub off on me.

“That man will be pissed if he finds out that his secretary is treating you like shit. In fact, I bet he’d can her ass on the spot if he even got a hint she was doing something like that.”

I know what she’s saying is true. I once told Phillip in passing I didn't think the doorman at the building we lived at liked me very much. Anytime I’d try and ask him a question about something, he’d get short with me and tell me that I shouldn’t be out without my husband. He would make constant digs about my age, like I didn’t belong in this world. He’d amped up the disrespect when he hit on me one morning after Phillip had left early for the office. I’d shot him down quickly. Needless to say, after I told Phillip what had happened, I never saw the man again.

“You’re right. I’m making this all out to be bigger than it is and I just keep throwing dirt on it.” I grab my purse from the chair, making Cindy smile. “You mind?” I ask. We hadn’t even gotten our main entrée yet.

“Hell no.”

I stand and lean down to kiss her on the cheek.

“Call me. I want to know all the details.”

With that, I head out of the restaurant and onto the busy New York sidewalk. Glancing down at my watch, I see it’s already eight. I make my way down to his building, which is only four blocks away.

Red, the security guard, swipes me right in as I make my way into the practically empty building. I hit the elevator button for the top floor and tap my foot as it moves up. When I exit, the hallway is completely clear. I walk to his office, bypassing the empty secretary desk, and pull open the heavy door.

The sight that gr

eets me almost brings me to my knees, and it would have if I hadn’t had my hand still on the door to brace me.

There, in the middle of Phillip’s office, completely naked, is Cary. The secretary. Phillip is on the sofa, his face turned away, but I can see his tie is undone and his shoes are off. His suit looks worn and wrinkled. Cary just stares at me in shock.

“You can have him.” I’m not even sure how I get the words out. I turn, fleeing the office. I hit the elevator button and luckily it slides open immediately. I take it all the way down in a trance, trying to hold myself together. You will not break like this. I suck in a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

“Mrs. Tanner,” Red calls after me, seeing the tears running down my face. I grab the first taxi I see and head straight for our condo. I don’t stop to think about what I’m doing. It feels like I’m in shock.

I pack a bag in record time, scribble a note, and shoot a quick text to Cindy before I drop my phone and ring on the kitchen counter.

Maybe Cindy doesn’t know Phillip as well as she thinks. Maybe everyone thinks he’s boring because he’s good at hiding his true nature. My father’s good at hiding his dirty little secrets, too, but like most things, you just need to look a little closer. That’s when everything becomes clear. “God, you’re so naïve,” I whisper to myself.

I take the subway to the train station, where I buy a ticket on my credit card, then pull out as much cash as my cards will allow. I then grab a cab to the bus station. I want to get away for a little while and get my head on straight before I face him. I know he’ll track me down and find me if I don’t cover my tracks well enough.

I look up at the list of destinations and pick a place I hope he’ll never think of.

Chapter 2

Phillip

I wake up with a start, looking at my watch and seeing I overslept. I stretch my neck, trying to work out the kink from sleeping on this damn couch. I just meant to lie here for a few minutes before I left to go home. I’ve been sleeping so poorly lately that I needed just a quick nap to try to catch up.

The merger last year went smoothly, but the last few months have been hell. I’ve been working myself to the bone every night. I never get to see Molly, so at night when I go home, all I want to do is make love to her, needing a taste of her to hold me over, hoping to keep at bay the need I have for her. Then, when she passes out, I spend the rest of the night just holding her and watching her sleep. I can’t help it. I’m obsessively in love with her. It can’t be healthy, but I gave that fight up a long time ago. It is what it is. There’s no fighting this need I have for her.

I’d learned that early on. She woke up my whole world the moment I laid eyes on her. Feelings I’d never felt before came to life. I’d never needed another person before. Maybe because I’d never had one be there for me. From very early on in life I was alone, and I’d rather liked it like that. I didn’t want to be one of the foster kids begging for attention or clamoring to be adopted. I knew I’d only need myself.

I’d busted my ass through school, then college, saving every extra penny from the underground fighting I’d been doing to pay my bills. Then I starting investing in one thing after another. Seemed I had a good eye for what would be the next big thing. It became like an addiction. It was all I thought about: how could I make my hedge fund firm grow? And that had worked for me until she came strolling into my life.

Now she’s my addiction. In my every thought and every action. Making me want and crave things I never thought I wanted. I don’t want to waste a minute when I’m with her, least of all waste it sleeping. I keep telling myself I’ll sleep when I’m dead, but it’s starting to catch up to me.

I’ve got a big weekend planned, though, and if I can just make it through until then, it will all be perfect. I’ve been training my replacement the past six months, getting him in here and showing him all that I do. It’s taken long hours, and I haven’t told Molly. After we were first married, I tried to hold back on my need for her. She’s so young and beautiful, and I didn’t want to smother her with all that I wanted. She’s a blossoming flower, and I felt like the shadows keeping her all to myself. I didn’t want her to wilt and resent me for isolating her. So I worked hard and tried to hold myself back, telling myself that it was for her so that she could be happy. No woman wants her husband to suffocate her. I wanted her to make friends here and have a new life here. If it was up to me, it would be the two of us in our own home away from the city. I selfishly want her all to myself. The thought of being locked up with her in a house by the ocean and never leaving sounds like a dream come true. I never would have wanted something like that before Molly, but she changed all that for me. Made me want something else.

Sitting up from my couch, I try to rub out the wrinkles on my pants. I lay here too long and now I look like a mess. I’m anxious to get home to her, but I know the second I walk in the door I’ll be on her. It’s not fair how strong my need is for her. I can’t expect her to want sex with me every morning and every night. No woman wants it that much. Before, I didn’t give two shits about sex. It was always about the next deal or the next move I could make to expand my company. That was what used to get me off. What drove me each day. I would get lost in my work, and now all I want is to get lost in her.

I slip on my shoes and go over to grab my coat and keys and head out of my office. I’m surprised when I see Cary sitting at her desk. I told her to go home hours ago. She’s becoming a problem. Ryan, my replacement, hired her. Since he was the one to take over the day-to-day operations, I told him he could replace Debra as whoever he got would be working with him and not with me. I was so sad to see Debra go. She’d been the only mother figure I’d ever had in my life, but I couldn’t fault her for wanting to spend time with her husband. I felt the exact same way.

“Cary, why are you here? It’s almost eleven.” I don’t wait for her response, walking past her to the elevator and hitting the button. I plan on calling Ryan on the way home and telling him to get rid of her. I don’t care if I have a week left. He’s a married man himself, and we don’t need that kind of shit happening here.

“Phillip, I wanted to talk. Maybe we could grab a drink before you head home.”

I hear her behind me as I wait for the elevator to open. It takes everything in me not to turn and yell at her. Her mere presence annoys me, and I’m so fucking tired. I’ve caught her a few times trying to flirt with me. At first I thought maybe I was misreading her, but it has become clear that wasn’t the case. Thankfully, the elevator dings and the doors open. I walk in and turn, looking at her.

“I’ve told you repeatedly not to call me Phillip, and I’m not interested. Nor is it appropriate to get a drink with you. I told you to leave at five o’clock, so I’ll assume your timesheet will reflect that instead of the late hour. This is unprofessional, and I’ll be speaking to Mr. Arrow about this.” Reaching out, I press the button for the first floor and watch her face turn panicky as the doors shut. I don’t have time to try to figure out what that means. I’m beyond ready to get home to my Molly and see her beautiful face.

I end up hailing a cab home, not wanting to use a driver or take the train this late. On the cab ride home, I talk to Ryan and explain to him that Cary is a problem. He assures me that he will speak to her first thing and that she won’t be there after that. It’s the part of the job I hate the most, but it’s a necessary evil. Someone like Cary is looking to bed a rich man, and I didn’t spend years building my company so a piece of ass could drag the new leader of our company through the mud. There are plenty of willing men, and I’m not saying Ryan is a saint, but work isn’t where this needs to go down.

When the cab pulls up outside our building, I throw some money at the cabbie and climb out. My heart is racing already and I try to calm it. If it was up to me, I’d go barreling into the condo and sweep Molly up in an embrace, leading us to fuck like rabbits on the kitchen counter. I’d spend all night talking to her and telling her how much I

love her.

But I can’t do that.

She’s probably already in bed, trying to get her rest from when I wake her in the night. Sometimes my need for her is so strong it overpowers my good sense and I wake her up, taking her when she’s still half asleep. I feel ashamed of myself that I can’t control my love for her, and I’m trying to do better. Last night I just sat in the chair by the bed and watched her sleep. I knew if I got into bed, I would want more, and she needs her rest. I don’t want her to think it’s all about sex.

I keep telling myself that when I quit and we have more time together, that this insatiable need for her will pass. We’ve been married for a year now, and I’m scared because it’s only gotten worse. The longer we’re together, the deeper my feelings get. But I’ve got a plan to stop working and start our marriage in a new way. It may be hard for her to spend so much time with me, but I’m hoping we can do things she likes together so she won’t feel like I’m a burden.

When I walk into our penthouse, I place my house keys and phone on the table by the door and feel myself frown. The picture I gave her for her birthday still hasn’t been hung. I’d taken a picture of the first place I’d ever kissed her and framed it. It was in the library at her father's house, a room I knew she loved. I didn’t explain the reason I took it because she seemed so disappointed when she saw it. I just stumbled over telling her it was because I knew she loved all the books. I thought that maybe giving her something that was hers to place in our home would spur her to put her own things around the house. Touches of her. I’d even told her where I thought the picture would look nice—where we walk into our home every day. She’d given me a tight smile, and the picture remains in a box in the corner of the room.

I told her she could do whatever she wanted to our space here, but she seemed uninterested in that idea. We’d talked about getting a place of our own, and that had excited her. She told me details about what she wanted, and so I hired an architect, relayed what she wanted and had him draw it up for me. I wanted to have a place built as the fairy tale she described, and then I’d surprise her with it.