Page 77 of Ten Day Affair
"Your mother would be proud too," he murmurs against my hair.
The lump in my throat grows three sizes. I can't speak, so I just nod against his shoulder.
He releases me with a gentle pat on my back, straightens his blazer, and walks away down the hallway. I watch him go, his shoulders square, his stride purposeful. The perfect image of professional composure.
I pullinto Arden’s driveway just after sunset, headlights sweeping across her front porch. Her kitchen window glows like a welcome sign, and I exhale for the first time all day.
I could’ve gone home and curled up in my bed and pretended I wasn’t waiting to see his porch light flick on.
He texted around five. Said he made dinner. He framed it as no pressure, just an invite.
I didn’t answer.
Because I can’t trust myself around him, not when one crooked smile, one familiar hand on my back, makes me forget how much I can't trust him. Even if this is a limited-time affair, I need to be able to have basic trust.
Arden opens the door before I even knock, holding up a brown paper bag in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other.
“Emergency carbs and estrogen,” she announces.
I follow her inside, the familiar scent of her lilac candles wrapping around me. Her house is safe and neutral. And more importantly, it's Cole-free.
She unloads two giant cartons of General Tso’s, crab rangoons, egg rolls, and a whole pint of fried rice like we’re about to host a small banquet. “We’re either going to find a solution or salt it into oblivion.”
“I vote oblivion.”
“Love it. On brand. Now, pick your fighter.BarbieorJohn Wick 4?” She points the remote at the TV and flops onto the couch. “
“Barbie. I’ve had enough violence for one week.”
We curl up under a throw blanket, chopsticks in hand, Margot Robbie’s perfect smile flashing across the screen. But we don’t make it ten minutes before Arden hits pause and turns toward me.
“Wait, I know we just want to not think about any of this, but I need to know where things are. Can we talk for a minute before numbing our minds?”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” I pop a piece of broccoli in my mouth and chew aggressively.
“You're eating vegetables voluntarily. That’s a red flag.”
I sigh. “He didn’t tell me the board vote is Friday. Not when we were literally talking about the vote last night. Not before or after he had me wrapped around him like a fucking human pretzel.”
Arden winces, like she felt that one in her soul. “Oof. That’s, yeah.”
“It’s not just that he left it out. It’s that I've been opening up about this, trying to engage him, asking him for help on how to navigate this. I've given him real pieces of me. Hell, I even gave him the tour of the Taylor Wing that he asked for. And he gave me nothing back, except half-smiles and vague reassurances.”
I set my carton down, appetite gone.
“You think he’s hiding something.”
“In my gut, Iknowhe is. If he were just another board member going through the motions, why would he dodge around it? Why not be straight with me? My father has been, and even he seems like he's drinking the Kool-Aid. Unless…” I trail off, pulse kicking up.
Arden finishes the thought for me. “Unless there’s more to it.”
I nod slowly, chest tight. “He’s been feeding me breadcrumbs. Just enough to keep me from asking bigger questions.”
“You think he’s stringing you along?”
“I think he wants to keep things easy. And I think if I knew whatever it is he doesn't want me to know, his pussy-train would leave the station.”
She turns to face me. “That was supposed to be the deal, though, right? Just sex?”
