Page 93 of The Story of Me
He comes around and opens the passenger door. I climb out, swipe my security card into the box and tap in the code.
“Thanks so much, Don,” I tell him as he waits to make sure I get in safely. I will pay him and I will make sure he gets a bloody big tip too.
“You’re more than welcome, sweetheart. Be lucky and I hope you get all this sorted and them scum leave you alone. It’s a crying bloody shame what they’re allowed to get away with. Leave ‘em down a dark alley with your dad and Uncle Finn and they wouldn’t be so brave. I can tell ya.” For some reason, this makes me give him a quick peck on the cheek as I step inside the small lobby of Cam’s apartment block. Because he owns the penthouse, he has his own lift so I swipe my card again and the doors open instantly.
As soon as I’m up and in the apartment, I start to shake. My jaw is so tense; it’s making my temples ache, but as the shaking gets worse, my teeth begin to rattle. I head to the kitchen and pour myself a wine.
The apartment has been left exactly as if we were still living here. We still use it and stay here if we’ve been working late and can’t be bothered to go back to Essex, and I’ve stayed here twice since Cam’s been away, rather than stay in our huge new home on my own. I gulp down my wine, then head upstairs for a shower.
I let the water hit me from every angle and try to get my thoughts into order. Cam loves me, of that I am one hundred percent sure, but he likes sex, a lot. I have no idea at what age men’s sex drive starts to reduce, but at forty-two, Cam likes sex every day, twice a day, sometimes three times. He doesn’t bring me to a toe curling orgasmeverytime; my sex life isn’t some make-believe novel where the leading lady constantly has multiple orgasms. Sometimes it happens; occasionally, it doesn’t, but I love it regardless. I love the connection it gives us. I don’t tell Cam when I don’t come. He worries and thinks it’s his fault, so I do what I assume most women do and fake it, and to be honest, I feel like a bit of a freak because he does make me come so often.
My brain goes into overdrive as I start to overthink things. What if he’s done this as revenge for when I left him for Sean or for when we fucked and I refused to leave Sean afterwards? Do I have any right to be angry? I fucked Cam behind my husband’s back. Isn’t this just that bitch Karma, seeking her revenge? But this is Cam. Would he do this to me?
I start to cry. I don’t know why, hurt, anger, a little bit of exhaustion. The stress of the IVF. We find out on Monday if we have managed to create a pregnancy.
What if all six embryos attach? What if we end up with six babies and these allegations turn out to be true?
What if I’m left on my own to bring up six children?
I slide down the wall of the shower, rest my forehead on my knees and really let the tears flow as I wonder, why me, why is this happening to me again?
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cam
As soon as the seatbelt sign is off, I turn on my phone. Fuck what they say about waiting until you’re inside the terminal building and all that bollocks. I need my phone ready to rock ‘n’ roll once I get inside that terminal. I need to speak to my Kitten. It’s been thirteen hours. Thirteen fucking hours, on a plane, most of it with a hard on.
I’d spoken to her on my stopover, woken her up in fact. I smile as I think about how miserable she is in the mornings. I love the fucking bones of the girl, but she is one moody bitch until she’s had a coffee and sex, so I tell her to call me back when she’s had a coffee and feeling more sociable.
Sex.Fuck, I need sex like you wouldn’t believe. Ten days, ten fucking days, and then when I’m about to get on the plane, she calls me back, and in that sexy morning voice says to me,
“Tiger, I’ve had my coffee. Now all I need is an orgasm. You’re not here so I’m about to DIY it.”
“Kitten, don’t you fucking dare. I’m about to get on a plane for a thirteen hour flight. There is no way I’m wanking in an airplane toilet, so if I’ve gotta wait, then so have you, baby.”
“God, Tiger, I love it when you’re all dominant. Tell me what to do again. I’m so close. Ahh God, so close.”
I had to step out of the line of first class passengers waiting to board so they couldn’t all carry on enjoying the conversation.
“I’m fucking warning you. Don’t you dare come. You wait until tonight and you save that for me.”
She giggles down the phone, and fuck if that sound don’t do something to me. It’s like my heart, my belly and my balls all get squeezed at the same time.
“God, I love the fuck out of you, Kitten.” I know what she’s going to say. No matter how many times I ask her not to swear; she defies me. Every. Fucking. Time.
“And I fucking love the fuck out of you, Tiger. Now you go catch your plane, and I’ll go have a quick orgasm.”
I could hear a buzzing sound coming down the phone. “What the fuck’s that noise?”
“What noise?”
“That buzzing noise.”
“Oh, that, sorry, didn’t realise your hearing was so good for an old man.”
I cracked my jaw and moved it from side to side to release the tension. She’d told me she was going to buy a vibrator for when I was away and I told her no she wasn’t. She either comes with me or not at all.
“What. The. Fuck. Is. That. Buzzing. Kitten? I won’t ask you again.”
