Fantasy in Lingerie (Lingerie 6)

“Baby…what happened?”

“I broke up with him.”

“Why?”

“He told me he loved me.” I took a deep breath and forced my tears back, that way I could talk without drowning out my own words. “I told him I didn’t feel the same way.”

“But you do love him.”

I didn’t deny it anymore. “I don’t want to love him… He’s not right for me.”

“In what way?”

I could never tell her the truth, regardless of how much I loved her. “I don’t see a future with him. He’s not the kind of man you marry. He’s not… I don’t know. Our relationship started as a fling, and it’s been deep and intense…but that’s all it is. I don’t want to feel this way, I don’t want to miss him, and I know I did the right thing…but it hurts.”

My mom didn’t react to my confession about my physical relationship with him. She knew I was an adult, had been an adult for a long time, and she never told me how to live my life. I never felt judgment from her, and I was certain she never told my father these things. “He’s the first man you’ve ever loved?”

“Yes…” And I suspected he might be the only man I ever loved.

“Are you sure he’s not right for you?”

Without a doubt. “Yes.”

“I know this is a long shot, but could I meet him?”

Even if Bones would never hurt her, I didn’t want her anywhere near him. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Alright.” My mom didn’t push. “If you really know he’s not the right man for you, then you made the right decision. It’ll be hard, but it’ll get easier in time. Just stay busy. Come down here for another visit if you want. But if you’re unsure…maybe you should give it a chance.”

If I told her who he really was, she would freak out—and my mother never freaked out. My father would be on a chopper in less than ten minutes, and my entire family would be moving in to rip his head off. I could never take Bones to a family dinner like everything was casual. My father would consider it treason if I brought his worst enemy into his own home. “I’m sure.”

“Then I’m sorry, sweetheart. Heartache is the worst kind of pain. It takes a long time to heal. But eventually, it will. Just be patient.”

“Thanks, Mama.”

“Of course, sweetheart.”

A week went by, and I didn’t hear from him. I tried to stay busy like my mother recommended, so I worked on my artwork, went for long runs, went to the grocery store, and actually tried to cook.

The tracker was still in my ankle, but I didn’t ask him to remove it.

I was afraid it would make a bloody mess.

And a part of me didn’t mind leaving it in there.

I’d ended our relationship, but I guess I wasn’t quite ready to let it go. I’d wondered if he’d found another woman by now, paid a few prostitutes to entertain him every night so he could forget about me quicker.

It made me sick to my stomach.

I should go out and start meeting new guys so my heart would heal faster, but I honestly didn’t want anyone else. I didn’t want to go through the process of getting to know someone, of trying to find a connection strong enough so I would have good sex. It happened sometimes, but after being with a man like Bones, I knew I would never find it again.

Everything would be mediocre in comparison.

A few days later, there was a knock on my door.

My heart leaped into my throat when I thought of Bones. Maybe he decided to stop by. Maybe he wanted to try to persuade me to change my mind.

I wanted to change my mind…but I never could.

I looked through the peephole and saw my mother on the other side.

The last person I expected.

“Mama?” I opened the door and saw her smiling in front of me. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, the weather is nice, so I thought we would go shopping. Your father is in town for work, so I decided I would have you entertain me.”

I suspected this was all just an excuse to see me after my little meltdown over the phone. “That sounds great. Just let me grab my bag.”

We went shopping downtown, picking up jewelry, new sweaters, and new shoes. Father paid for all of it, and then we had lunch. She never asked me about Bones or how I was doing. Instead, it seemed like she was trying to distract me. “Do you have any new paintings for me to bring home?”

“I only have two…”

“Two is better than none. I think we can raise the price a bit. I’m telling you, people loved them. The tourists loved them too because they got to have an original piece from an Italian artist.”