The Divorce Diet Page 6
As evidenced by her abrupt departure.
While I stared at the food neither of us was eating, she stormed back into the kitchen. Her red blotchy face worried me. My wife didn’t get worked up like this.
But apparently, my ex-wife, did.
“Having you here hurts.”
“Pharis...” I trailed off.
“I haven’t seen you since you thanked the judge for our quickie divorce and took off eager to start your new life. And you know what? I’m sick of hurting. I’m sick of hurting because of you. Because I wasn’t enough for you.”
“Listen—”
“You listen, Eddie! You don’t get to hurt me anymore. I grieved you, I grieved us, and it took a lot for me to try and date, and you just had to make that hurt too. You win okay! You win. Please just...leave. Leave me.”
“Can I talk now?”
With tears in her eyes and defeat in her posture, she mumbled, “Fine.”
Pushing out of my chair, I come to stand before her, attempting to pull her to me only to have her back away. Pharis was leery, unsure of me or herself and that's when I knew I was in for the fight of my life.
But I wouldn’t fail, not now.
Not again.
“Pharis Hilton is gonna be my wife!” Eddie yelled to anyone who would listen, which happened to be four people. Four people who clearly misunderstood and were scanning the area for a famous starlet.
But to Eddie Ellis I was infamous.
When Eddie reached for me, out of self-preservation I backed the hell up.
I still felt his kiss on my lips and if he touched me, I’d cave.
Why? Because despite being heartbroken there wasn’t a day when I didn’t miss him, wondered if he ever thought of me, and wished things had been different.
That there was something I could have done to save us.
But I could only take his silence, his avoidance, for so long before it took its toll.
Every day he pulled a little farther away, and on every one of those days a small part of me wilted.
My self-confidence plummeted, and right before I filed I no longer recognized myself in the mirror.
My Eddie used to love taking care of me. He cooked, surprised me with romantic dates, and came to all my games. He was my knight-in-shining-everything.
Now all I had was loneliness and a new job opportunity where the void that lived within me would follow wherever I went. I was tired of the dark cloud that hung over my head.
I wanted the sun again, dammit.
“When I wasn’t watching you, I was following you,” he said, his voice quiet. “More than I probably should have. But I needed to see that you were okay and be close by in case you needed me.”
Glaring at him, I accused, “I haven’t seen you. But you watched me?”
“Yes.”
“On TV,” I made sure to clarify.
“And,” he hesitated. “Around.”
“Around?” God, I’m so confused. “As in followed me around?”
“Date me,” he said, ignoring my question, and I nearly fell over. If it wasn’t for Eddie steadying me I’d have eaten linoleum. “When does the new gig start?”
“Uh, like three weeks or so.” I struggled to keep up. “Why?”
“I’ll get you to love me again in two.”
“Eddie.”
“Date me, Pharis.”
“Why now?”
Steering me to a chair, he sits me down and kneels between my legs. “Because I want my wife back.”
“You want—” I croaked, his words catching me off guard.
“Never wanted the divorce, baby, but—”
I didn’t let him finish that sentence. Instead, I punched him in the face. Hard.
Hitting his ass, he smirked. “That’s twice you’ve put me on the ground, baby. I’m so proud of you.”
And dammit, I couldn’t help it. I smiled.
“Before you start outlining all the reasons why this is a bad idea, let me say this—” He exhaled deeply.—“I’m not doing this because of the break in, though it works to my advantage and I’m taking it. I want another chance to get this right. I’ve waited a long time to be where I am right now.”
“So you want closure?”
“No, I want you.”
“So, I get closure?”
“No.” He winked playfully despite his nose bleeding a little. “You get me.”
“What if I don’t want you?”
“You’re breathing heavy, nipples are diamonds, and you keep sucking on your lip, superstar. I know every inch of you and those inches want me. And best believe my inches want you too. All ten of them.”
Did I mention his ego is almost as big as his dick?
“I haven’t had sex in over a year,” I sassed. “I’d be considering this for the plumber.”
“You got a plumber?” he growled protectively.
“No,” I snorted at his alpha stupidity. “The point is, it’s hormonal or chemical. One of those.”
“The only answer I’ll accept is yes,” he said. “I’ve got all night, ten fingers, and a hot tongue all willing to convince you.”
I was horny. Eddie and I were explosive. I could leave with closure and a sore ass.
Trusting him again won't be easy, but loving Eddie Ellis seldom was. Broken hearts never are and love never is either.
Even when that love changes into something you don’t recognize.
“If we date,” I whispered. “It’s just until I leave.”
Moving closer, he lifted placed a kiss on my nose saying, “Oh, I should mention I have one condition.”
And instantly I stiffened.
I should have known he’d have a condition.
Pharis and I had trouble communicating when we were pissed off. Where I tended to say whatever I was thinking, which typically resulted in hurting her feelings, Pharis held back, worried she’d hurt mine. One night, we were tanked, arguing over something insignificant and stupid when I came up with an idea. An opportunity for both of us to raise our verbal weapons and shoot each other with pure truth. No holds barred honesty.
The condition was when one of us needed it the other couldn’t say no.
For a long time, it served us well.
To get what I wanted, what we needed, I let her think this ends when she leaves. And I suppose in a sense the dating would end. Considering I planned on getting her to marry me again.
But first, we had to clear the air. It was officially time to pull out the big guns.
Leaning down, I whisper, “Twenty-four hours of truth.”
“Fuck,” she tensed briefly. “When?”
“Starting now.” I grinned into the soft skin of her cheek. “I’ll go first.”
“Okay,” she mumbled, already knowing the rules.
“We both have a lot on our minds. Wanna drink about it?”
“Yes,” she said immediately.
Twenty-four hours of truth always went smoother when we were buzzed.
Releasing her to grab the liquor, I headed into her living room to sit on her couch. So light on her feet, she strolled in and set down a bottle of Macallan 25 and two tumblers.
“Where did you get this?”
“Stafford gave it to me.” She shrugged casually.
“Dare I ask why?” There was no jealousy in my tone either. While I could be an alpha asshole when it came to her, I never worried about her and players. Especially a stand-up guy like Matthew Stafford.
Laughing, she filled our glasses, tipped hers back, and said, “I made him look like the hero after the Dallas game. Did you watch it?”
Of course, I did. I never missed a chance to see her shine. “Yeah, I saw it. A bottle of good booze is the least he owes you. You should have gone for a mansion.”
Throwing mine back, I indulged in the burn. Because I needed liquid courage, and I needed a lot of it. Pouring us another, we clinked glasses. “No sex since me, huh?”
“Nope,” she said without he
sitation.
“You gonna ask me any questions, or are you afraid of my answers?”
“Any sex since me?” And I could see how hard it was to ask. My woman truly thought I didn’t want her and so sex with someone else, even the idea of it, was killing her. I knew the feeling.
“Just my hand, superstar.” I smiled. “A few times I even held a picture of you in my palm while I did it.”
“You jacked off on my face?”
“Often.” I nodded unashamed.
“Same,” she admitted. “Only, I turned on my iTunes to play Sarah McLachlan and scrolled through pictures of you on my phone.”
“That’s pathetic,” I barked out in laughter and set out to pour us another drink.
Sometime later...
With each shot her nerves settled and mine followed suit.
Pleasantly buzzed, it was time for the hard questions and answers she waited long enough to hear.
Hell, I had answers to the questions she didn’t even know to ask.
So when she burped and said, “Did you miss me?”
I swallowed hard and answered, “Every fucking second of every fucking day.”
“Eddie,” she choked out. “Why are we doing this to each other?”
“You were the one thing I was supposed to get right,” I managed and see her eyes glisten. “I owe you an explanation, Pharis. The truth. You ready to listen?”
Gulping audibly, she literally braced for it and I almost considered lying to spare her.
But lying cost me my marriage in the first place, and I wouldn’t be doing it again.
I had dropped my coat on the couch and was toeing off my shoes when I saw Eddie smiling at me.
“You’re home early,” I said, falling on the couch next to him.
Smirking, he said, “I made dinner.”
“Thank you, I—”
“But I ate without you.”
“That’s okay.”
“Ate it all, superstar.”
Looking closer, I zero in on his eyes and giggled. “You ate a cookie, didn’t you?”
“Delicious,” he said and licked his dry lips. “Like your pussy.”
“You are so stoned right now,” I squeal in laughter.
“I’ve been sitting here waiting for you to get home for three days!”
“Four hours...”
“Same thing!”
Kissing his lips, I whispered, “I’m home now, Eddie.”
“Good,” he said, pulling me into his lap. “I have some things to say.”
There were two instances when Eddie went all out with his feelings. Twenty-four hours of truth and edibles. And both centered around his obsession for me.
Fuck no, I wasn’t ready to listen.
Was he crazy?
This was a horrible idea. Twenty-four hours of truth is twenty-three too long.
I couldn’t do this, I couldn’t sit here on my way to piss drunk and hear why he stopped loving me.
Yet, I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
Because I needed to know more than I didn’t want to know.
Clearly, I was a glutton for muscles and punishment.
As Eddie prepped himself for whatever bomb he was about to drop, I sat perfectly still, terrified to blink.
Letting out a hard sigh, he said, “I never told you I was working the Coffin Casanova case.”
Breath stalled in my lungs, I squeezed my hands together to keep from covering my eyes. Because every Detroiter with a vagina had heard about the crazy guy who buried women alive. As if we weren’t diligent enough already, we had another wacko with a coffin fetish to consider.
And Eddie had worked the case?
He also hadn’t told me.
“It fucked me up, Pharis. Seeing the brutal way he tortured and killed those innocent women. I was obsessed with bringing him down. Making the city safe for you, for all women. But I got too cocky. Because I wanted him to know I was coming, that he was mine. But then I fucked up by showing my weakness.”
“What weakness?”
“You.”
“Me?”
“Playoffs,” he said, closing his eyes. “He saw us together, on TV, after your segment.”
“And?”
“And he decided the best way to get to me was through you.”
Steeling himself, he leaned closer to me. “He said if I didn’t back down, you’d be next. I figured if you believed I didn’t want you he’d believe it too. I had to let you go to keep you safe. Fuck, it nearly killed me to do it, Pharis. Had there been another way, I would have taken it, but you’re too well known, too accessible, and you’re mine to protect so I had to. I fucking had to.”
Nodding once, I pushed out of my chair announcing, “I need a minute,” and wasted no time running outside.
I wanted to scream and kick that this wasn’t fair. That what happened to us wasn’t fair.
But then that meant I had to acknowledge my own part in the deterioration of my marriage.
Because when I felt it, saw Eddie giving up, I didn’t fight harder.
I didn’t fight at all.
No, he didn’t share the case with me, but I knew something was wrong.
And I did nothing.
I let Eddie let me go.
If what he said was to be believed he had wanted me as his wife.
But my safety was more important than his feelings. Than my feelings.
Than our marriage.
Eddie made the ultimate sacrifice.
For me.
Fuck.
What kind of person would I be if I held that against him?
Yes, I could forgive him, but would the pain that came from loving and losing him ever go away?
From the ache in my heart, I’m guessing not.
When the backdoor opened and he stepped out, I composed myself as best as I could before I faced him.
But the weight of the day’s events was wearing on me, and all I could do was watch Eddie approach.
“I should have chosen you over him, superstar,” he said sadly.
“No,” I said earnestly. “You shouldn’t have.”
“You were my wife,” he argued. “I took vows.”
“You took an oath too,” I reminded him. “To serve and protect. You were in an impossible position, Eddie. And as much as it hurts, the least I can do is thank you for keeping me safe.”
“I knew,” he said quietly. “That you turned down those jobs for me.”
“For us,” I whispered in shame.
“Pharis,” he sighs behind me in the darkness. “We both had secrets. I suspect all marriages do. Let’s do this honesty thing right.”
“Okay then. Did you have a problem with my success?”
“No, but sharing you with the city wasn’t always easy, superstar.”
“I shared you with the city too,” I whispered. “Every time you put on that uniform.”
“I asked myself often, Pharis has life by the balls what did she need me for?”
In a soft voice, I admitted, “To love me, Eddie, that’s all I needed.”
Suddenly, his arms were around me, my back pressed to his chest and his chin resting on my shoulder.
“Pharis,” he whispered, gripping me tighter.
Running my hands over his wedding band I asked, “Why do you still wear your ring?”
“Because I was your husband even when you weren’t my wife.”
It hit me like a lightning bolt that maybe this was why I’ve felt in limbo for so long. Because my heart knew something my mind did not.
Perhaps I was just waiting for him to come back.
Turning in his arms, I took note of the sincerity on his face. “I’ll give you a shot.”
“You won’t regret it, superstar," he said tracing my cheek.
“At least we can’t get divorced twice,” I added with a smirk.
“It’s a tie.”
“What is?” I asked.
“Between missing your pussy or your smart mouth.�
��
And no lie, it felt good to laugh with him again.
Following him back inside, I watched him lock up behind us and decided this was a pretty strong finish to a stressful day.
When I woke up I never thought I’d be saying I’m dating my ex-husband...
For us our first home was perfect.
A three-bedroom bungalow with a huge master bath.
The previous owner added an addition to accommodate the huge bath, but had to sell before it could be finished. Pharis would never come out and say she wished she had a tub. Because Pharis never asked for anything. My woman was always utterly content with the way things were.
But she didn’t have to say it, I knew.
So, when the girls picked her up for the day, Butch and Aaron were over minutes later. The three of us headed to Home Depot to get her a tub and the tiles that would make the small space her oasis.
While it would take more than one day to rough it in completely, the tub install was done before she got home. Leading her upstairs, I opened the door to show Pharis her surprise. When her hands came to her mouth and her eyes got red, my chest expanded.
“You did this for me?”
Wrapping myself around her, I press my already hard cock into her. “I’m already picturing you naked and wet in your tub, baby.”
Guiding my hand between her legs, she surprises me with, “Was I supposed to wait?”
Pharis loves baths.
Every night without fail, an hour before she went to bed, she lit six candles, filled the tub with oils or fragrant salts and soaked until she was a prune.
Once in a while, I would join her but it was tough because I didn’t fit, and this was how she decompressed. Everyone deserved quiet time to do that.
So, it was a half hour ago when she declared herself drunk, saying it was time for bath and bed.
The second that door closed, I sat down to wait her out.
Swear to God, I was sweating and my cock was so stiff with anticipation staying still was nearly impossible.
When the drain was pulled I adjusted myself, crossed my feet at the ankles not even trying to hide what I was doing.
Walking out in a scrap of a towel, she was so beautiful I was sure my chest cracked open.