Page 46 of Tomorrow Belongs to Us
But I’m not sorry that she’s come to me instead. On a Friday night. That means something. It also tells me that she is lonely, too. A flame ignites inside me, that maybe she also is looking to reconnect.
I walk towards her. “What happened?”
“I didn't get the job. Preston did. The other guy...”
“That guy?” I hate him even more.
“He's a smarmy little asshole.” She goes off on a rant about how he hasn't been at the company for as long as she has but he's more qualified. I almost roll my eyes.
“Are you still blaming me for not going to college?”
“I don't blame you for me not going to college,” she snaps. “It's circumstances isn't it? Life throws you curveballs and we end up having to deal with our circumstances.”
“How can I help?”
“You can't.” Her lips purse shut. She throws me an angry look and I don't know what it is about this woman, but my underused cock suddenly hardens. I shake my head, hating that I’m thinking like some dirty old creep. Maybe it's because two of her buttons on her blouse are undone and I catch a fleeting tease of her pastel pink bra. I force myself to look away. She places a hand across the back of her neck and stares at me sheepishly before looking around. It's like she's wondering what she's doing here.
I'm wondering, too.
I sit down on the couch because it's better for me to hide the growing package between my legs. Megan paces around in front me, then flings off her jacket. She’s not helping. My gaze drops to her stilettoes and I'm about to tell her I don't like people wearing shoes on my rug, but ... fuck ... I kind of like her in those heels.
“I'm sick of getting passed over for these promotions,” she cries, hands on hips, walking around. “I'm sick of life throwing me curveballs. I'm sick of all the shit in my life.” She stops and looks at me. My hands are clasped over my cock. Hiding from her. “Sorry,” she says. “I don't know why I'm venting at you but ... Arla suggested I come and see you and now I'm here I feel silly for being here. The wine is wearing off and I ...” She swipes a hand over her face.
I have Arla to thank for this visit?
“I see,” I manage to say. My cock throbs inside my boxers. “Anything I can do to help?”
What a sleazy, cheesy line.
You can do better than that, Turner.
She gawks at me as if I’m talking in a foreign tongue. “Like what?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I just feel bad for you. Sounds like you really wanted this.”
“I did.”
“You’re smart, and driven, and you’ll get the right job at the right time.”
“It’s not that easy.” Something about what she’s said tells me that things haven’t been so great for her.
I let her down, and so did her father. This is my chance to tell her that I feel partly to blame. I was so devastated after Anna’s death, that I threw myself into trying to make life better, in any way I could, for my niece while her father was still in a coma. There was so much going on; my family was falling apart. We’d lost Anna, and my parents were grieving. I was, too, but I blocked off everything to take care of the baby. I didn’t have time to think and worry about Megan.
I meant to get in touch with her at some point, but a part of me truly believed it was the best if I stayed out of her life. How was I to know that things might not have gone so well for her? I wait for her to say more, wary of saying the wrong thing, asking the wrong question given that she’s already feeling so worked up.
It seems that both of our lives went to shit at that time, but I somehow managed to build a life of sorts. Not a completely happy life, but I have a child I love with all my heart.
I gave marriage a try. I have a great job. I'm happy.
I'm lonely, but mostly, I'm ... not so sad.
I'm still looking for someone.
And she's right there in front of me.
I look at Megan Summers and I try to shake the thought out of my head. I can’t get involved with her. I can't mess her life up again. Last time, it was forbidden because of who I was and who she was. But this time I have a child. I have a problematic wife. Hopefully soon to be my ex. I've been shot. I'm recovering. I'm on the road to mending.
But Megan is still starting out in her life. She doesn't need the excess baggage that will come with me.
