Page 48

Ten hours of swing party footage and Phoenix's story checks out.

In the three swing parties that were recorded, Phoenix was only in two.

He socialized and interviewed guests just as he said.

Nora, on the other hand swung with women and different couples every time.

Just as he said. And when she did, the camera showed the truth, Phoenix was indifferent to her.

They rarely interacted or even spoke to one another at the parties.

If he was the slightest bit taken with Nora, I would've noticed it in their body language.

Phoenix had no idea when the parties were being filmed, that he'd need the footage to prove himself to me. I believe him.

Phoenix looks very handsome, standing in his kitchen, wearing the "My Girl Earned a Man that Burns" black apron, I had made for him.

He's finally opening up, inviting me into his home.

Since he's promised to show me divorce papers, we're turning over a new leaf and although everything isn't back to what it was before, I feel we're more connected.

He's a first-time mom's dream, all sexy and domesticated.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was prepping for a magazine shoot.

The open concept, minimalist design of his kitchen with white granite countertops, gleaming dark chocolate wooden floors and wooden geometric stools that line the island, are magazine cover-worthy.

He's the perfect companion for a girl just starting a family.

"A man that can cook is always a keeper, according to my mama.

" I rub his shoulders as he prepares dinner.

"There's just something about a man that knows how to put together a meal, that makes me feel all warm and gooey inside.

" I playfully tease as I reach around him and stick my fork in the pan, snatching a spear of asparagus.

"Dinner's almost ready. The baked potatoes are in the stove, the crab legs are almost ready. Want a glass of wine with dinner?"

"Umm. No thanks. I think I'm good. I'll have lemonade, though." My hand lands on my belly. I quickly bury my hands in my pockets.

He pours me a tall glass of cold lemonade and goes back to searing the asparagus.

I take a long sip and wander off, taking a tour of his home. "Did you decorate this place yourself?" I yell back into the kitchen as I wander into his study.

"I did."

"You have amazing taste. I love these African and Chinese masks on the wall." My hand traces the edge of his oak desk when suddenly, I see it. The divorce papers.

Perfect! He wasn't lying. Thank God!

I pick up the packet and flip through it, relieved that it exists.

He told the truth. He's legit. I'm relieved.

Check the case number to make sure it's official.

I roll my eyes at that thought. It's right here. There's no need to go further.

Out the side of my eye, I see a large framed photo of two small girls. Twins. I walk up closer to the wall to get a better view. They look like Phoenix.

Does he have kids?

I take the photo off the wall and look around for any other telling photos. I don't see any whatsoever of Nora.

That's a relief!

"Ready to eat?" Phoenix calls from the kitchen.

I grab the framed photo. "Here I come." Seeing it, must have subconsciously triggered doubt, because I whip out my phone and snap a photo of the front page of the divorce decree before leaving his study.

Returning to the kitchen, I sit down and place the photo on the table as I wait for an explanation but almost immediately, I regret bringing the picture and stirring the pot.

Phoenix glances at the photo. His eyes soften, they express the loving affection of a doting father.

I've seen that expression on only one other person in my life.

My father. Phoenix sits a fancy rectangular ceramic plate down in front of me.

He's trying so hard to move on. A tinge of guilt surfaces.

Sitting beautifully displayed on the plate are crab legs, seared asparagus, and a loaded baked potato. My belly does the happy dance.

"This is a work of art and it smells fantastic," I tell him as I admire the meal.

He sits across the table, "You found the photo of my girls." He smiles warmly. "They're older now. They were two in that picture, over ten years ago. They're away at boarding school in California."

"Why didn't you tell me about them?"

"Everything is moving so fast. It's been what, two, two and half months since we've been dating?

We're still getting to know each other, Aria.

I'm sure there's lots I still don't know about you but you're right, I should've told you and eventually I would have.

Honestly, I know this sounds dumb, it never came up.

I mean you don't have kids, so we never talked about kids. "

Just wait till you find out.

I look around nervously and smile politely.

"And with Nora and I going through the divorce . . . it's a touchy subject."

I sense a river of deep, untapped sorrow flowing under his words. "I get it. It's OK." I nod my head to reassure him. "Really. It's OK. What are their names?"

He picks up the picture, pointing to the little girl on the left and says, "This is Nala, she's the sweet one. Melts my heart every chance she gets."

Pointing to the little girl on the right he tells me, "And this is Nadia, she's the spitfire.

Sneaky too. Both are great girls, though.

" He laughs as he looks at the photo. "You know, when they took this picture, the only way I could get them to smile was to buy them both huge baskets of candy and I mean huge.

We had to stop in the middle of the photoshoot, leave and shop for the perfect baskets.

Nadia negotiated the deal. At two! She's good that way, finding an angle and working it to her advantage.

I know Nala put her up to it. She likes to keep her hands clean.

Just outside the frame of this picture were two huge baskets of candy, one sitting on each side of the photographer.

I swear, he snapped a ton of pictures that day, this was the only one they smiled in and it was because they had their eyes on the candy. " He beams as he sits the photo down.

I smile, watching him light up as he talks about his little girls. It's reassuring to know he's a caring father. I'm a little more comfortable, a little more relaxed with him now and I'm glad I asked.

The hard questions out of the way, we have a wonderful dinner, laughing and joking as if we've never missed a beat. I clean the table and put the dishes away.

Phoenix disappears for a second and comes back, setting the divorce decree on the table in front of me. "You said you wanted to see it."

I pick it up and flip through, pretending it's the first time I've seen it. "Thanks for going out your way to prove it to me. This," I tap the divorce decree happily, "means so much to me."

"It's only because I love you, Ari. Only love would make me go so far to prove myself."

And with that, the last of my icebergs melt unleashing a cascading waterfall within me.

It sends ripples, tiny vibrations of love that echo and reverberate so deep, they penetrate my body on a molecular level.

The intoxicating feeling invades the smallest of spaces, filling me up.

I'm in love. I'm in love, with this man.

He goes to the fridge and pulls out vanilla ice cream and orange soda.

"Wanna dream with me?" he asks with all the charm in the world.

"Let's make a dream. Come here." His gaze is steady.

It's trance-inducing. He stands there staring at me and for the first time, in a long time, I feel like he sees me, really sees who I am.

"You're so beautiful, Aria. I can barely take it. " He takes a deep breath.

Something inside clicks. It just makes sense. Nothing else matters. With very little effort, that unfortunate night in Chicago goes from blazing number one on my list of objections, to not being on my list at all. What list? Let the past stay right where it is. In the past.

"Let's build that dream." I'm open and I find myself grinning with a childlike playfulness.

We place two scoops of ice cream each into two old fashioned ice cream soda glasses and pour orange soda over them.

"Voila. Orange dream floats." He places tall spoons in each glass.

I lick vanilla ice cream off one of my fingers. "I've got a crush on you," I tell him, before standing up on my tippy toes and kissing him once on the cheek. Then again on the lips. There's a spark of electricity between us.

He picks me up, lifting me onto the counter and returns my kisses.

The passion we share with each kiss, tells me we miss each other, badly.

It's radiating off our bodies. There's a powerful force between us, drawing us into each other.

Our vortices are swirling at increasing speeds, pulling in everything that's in close range.

We're like twin hurricanes, unable to escape the other's velocity.

His warm hands slip under my shirt and he unhooks my black lace bra.

I let it happen. I know I should be holding back. I simply can't.

The orange dream floats sit on the counter, slowly melting.

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