Page 18 of Trophy

Arthur. In one of his expensive suits. With a familiar arrogant smirk on his face. Holding a small cardboard box. His dark blue Mercedes was in the driveway.

She couldn’t do anything but stare for an embarrassingly long time.

“Well?” he demanded after a minute. “Am I to be invited in?”

And that gave her back her voice. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought over the jewelry accoutrements that you left at home. I thought perhaps you’d want them.” He nodded down toward the box of the more expensive items she’d purposefully left behind, as if he was being patient with her dimness. “May I come in?”

She cleared her throat, mostly to stall for time. “I guess.” She stepped aside to let him in, deeply wishing he was back in Charlotte or that she hadn’t opened the door. “Why didn’t you just send the stuff over to me? It’s a long drive just for that.”

“Is it beyond the realm of possibility that I would want to see how you’re doing?”

She took the box from him and placed it on a chair in the dining room. The card table was covered with her jewelry materials. “Yes,” she replied to his question. “It really is beyond the realm of possibility. I thought we said everything we had to say to each other.”

“We were married for eight years.”

“And we both know how that turned out.” She suddenly remembered what Vicki had told her about Arthur thinking she would crawl back to him.

He must have wondered why she hadn’t. He must have wanted to see her life so he could confirm how unhappy she was and when she’d be returning to her cushy position as his wife.

A surge of anger overwhelmed her, momentarily blurring her vision. He’d come to judge her life. He’d come to show her what she was missing.

“I hadn’t expected this house to be so…” Arthur trailed off, his eyes scanning over the simple furnishings, the remaining emptiness of most of the walls and the corners of the dining room and living room, the outdated kitchen, the rickety card table that was passing for her work desk. “Depressing,” he concluded.

She stiffened her spine. “It’s not depressing. It’s very comfortable, and I’m much happier here than I was with you.”

“You can’t mean that.” He eyed her with that familiar patronizing expression, as if he were speaking to someone much younger and less intelligent than him.

“I do mean that. I’ve been doing really well here, and I’m quite happy.”

He shook his head. “You’re not made for small-town living. I understand you wanting to prove a point, but there’s really only so far you should take it.”

She was so angry her teeth almost snapped at him.

“I’m not proving a point—certainly not to you.

This is my life now, and I’m happy in it.

I can make my own decisions. I can plan my own future.

I can do what I want with my time. I don’t always have to worry about tiptoeing around your idiosyncrasies.

I don’t have to feel like I’m always under the thumb of a spoiled, selfish, domineering asshole. ”

Arthur didn’t show any anger. He never had. He just scanned her from head to toe with an icy distance, as if he noticed every flaw in her appearance, every insecurity in her soul.

She’d gained about five pounds since she’d divorced him because she didn’t have time to work out like she used to.

Today after work she’d wanted to look cute for Rob but not like she was trying too hard, so she’d changed into a pair of soft blue leggings and a pale gray tunic top a little nicer than the one she’d worn the day before.

Her hair was loose and hanging down around her shoulders, and she didn’t have on much makeup.

Arthur probably thought she looked terrible, like her appearance was a sign that she’d been going downhill since she left him.

It didn’t matter. She told herself it didn’t matter. “You don’t get to control me anymore.”

He gave his smug little laugh—the one she hated the most. “You don’t understand yet, do you?

That’s what you want. Someone to control you.

You’ve always been too soft and clingy. You need a man to take care of you.

You’ll realize that soon enough, and you’ll end up right back in a strong man’s arms.”

The words hurt so much—and terrified her too, since part of her was afraid they were true—that her eyes started to burn with tears. “You have no idea what I need or what I want. Now get out of here, and don’t come back again.”

He just shook his head and laughed some more as he walked to the front door. “Play your little game. Act like you can take care of yourself. We both know it can’t last forever.”

He didn’t even give her time to respond. He opened the screen door and strode back to his fancy car.

She slammed the front door and leaned against it, gasping as she tried to get herself back under control.

He was wrong.

He was wrong about her.

Only he wasn’t entirely wrong—and that was what hurt the most. Just look how she’d clung to Rob as soon as he’d offered her a strong shoulder.

She was still leaning against the door five minutes later, trying to convince herself to forget about Arthur and not let him ruin her evening, when there was a knock on the door behind her.

It startled her so much she squealed and jerked around. “I told you to go—” she began angrily, wrenching open the front door.

Rob stood on her front stoop holding a pizza box, with a bottle of wine under one arm, frowning at her in concerned confusion.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” she said, horrified when a couple of tears trickled out of her eyes. She opened the screen door for him and took the pizza from his hands. “I’m so sorry.”

Rob moved the wine bottle to his hand and stepped inside. He looked over his shoulder at the street, still frowning. “Who was that here before in the fancy car?”

She sniffed and tried to surreptitiously wipe away her tears. “That was Arthur.” She turned her back on Rob under the pretense of putting the pizza box on the counter.

He set down the wine bottle and then turned her around to face him. “He made you cry.”

She flicked away the last tear and tried to smile. “Not really. He was a jerk, of course, but it’s mostly because he always knows how to hit at my insecurities.”

Rob’s brown eyes were still sober. “What insecurities?”

“Oh, I don’t know. That I can’t do this—do life—on my own. That I’m not good for anything but being a trophy wife.”

With a rough sound in his throat, Rob pulled her into a hug. “You’ve already proved him wrong about that. It doesn’t matter what he says.”

“I know it doesn’t,” she said, turning her head so her face wasn’t buried in his shirt. “I just didn’t expect to see him tonight.”

“Well, let’s not let him ruin the evening.”

“I won’t.”

He stroked her back, and she felt a lot better. Until she suddenly heard Arthur’s voice in the back of her head, telling her that she’d always need a man to cling to and she’d eventually end up back in a strong man’s arms.

She was clinging to Rob now. Literally. In his arms. She was letting him hold her because he felt so strong and safe and solid. Maybe she’d just moved from Arthur to Rob, and nothing was really different.

She pulled out of the hug, giving Rob a sheepish smile. “Sorry about the dramatics.”

“It’s fine. He shouldn’t just show up at your house that way.”

“I know. I would have thought the long drive would have stopped him.”

“Anyway,” Rob said with a smile, “let’s not dwell on him. Are you hungry?”

She smiled back. “I am.”

They took their pizza and wine to the living room and ate on the couch. Rob told her about his day and hassles with several wrong deliveries all happening at the same time, and he ended up making Allison laugh.

She was genuinely enjoying herself when the pizza was gone and she was finishing her second glass of wine.

Arthur was wrong about her. She was doing just fine. She didn’t need him or his money to have a good time. She wasn’t relying on Rob to get her through life the way she’d always relied on Arthur.

“You’re thinking about him again,” Rob murmured.

She jerked her head up. “I’m sorry. It was just a passing thought.”

“It’s fine.” Rob was trying to catch her gaze, like he was peering into her soul. “Did you want to talk about it?”

She sighed and slumped back against the couch. “I don’t even know.”

He picked up the wine bottle and split the remaining wine between their glasses. “Were you in love with him when you got married?”

“I don’t know. I thought so. Kind of. I was eighteen. What the hell did I know?”

“Your parents were okay with you going out with a guy his age?”

“He knew my dad from some business dealings, and that was right when my parents lost all their money. I think they were mostly relieved that I had the possibility of a comfortable life. They thought Arthur was a decent enough guy.”

“So did you really want to be with him, or did you just want the lifestyle?” Rob’s tone wasn’t judgmental. It was more like he was trying to understand.

“I really don’t know. I mean, I thought at the time that it was Arthur I wanted.

He was attractive enough, and he really knew how to…

how to romance a woman. He was all about the big romantic gestures.

I guess I was kind of swept off my feet.

I didn’t really know him, though. The more I got to know him, the more I realized it was a mistake. ”

“Well,” Rob murmured over a sip of wine, “I can definitely understand making a mistake in marriage, fooling yourself into thinking it would work when there’s absolutely no foundation. It’s not that unusual a mistake, you know.”

She smiled at him, feeling better, like he really did understand. Maybe she wasn’t really as silly and stupid as she felt sometimes. Maybe everyone did foolish things, even though they should know better. “You got married at eighteen too? Isn’t that what you said?”

He shifted, looking slightly uncomfortable. “Yeah.”

“You said it just didn’t work out?”

For a moment she didn’t think he was going to tell her any specifics, even after she’d opened up to him. But he finally finished his wine and said, “She cheated on me.”

“Seriously?”

He slanted her a quick look. “Why are you so surprised?”

“I don’t know. I just didn’t expect anyone to want to cheat on you.” She blushed as she realized what she’d said. Then she felt compelled to continue, “I mean, you’re… you’re really good in bed.”

He chuckled softly, his eyes warming as they lingered on her face. “Thank you for that. But I’m afraid it’s true. She just couldn’t be satisfied with one man. She got bored or… I don’t know.”

“She fell in love with someone else?”

“No. Not really. She just slept around. With all kinds of guys. And I, being incredibly stupid, didn’t even know about it. Everyone else did, though.”

“No one told you?” she breathed, horrified by the thought and by Rob’s having to go through that.

“Keith, a buddy of mine, finally did. It’s a hard situation, you know. He didn’t know if I really knew or if I was just pretending to be happy or what. People don’t always want to get involved in someone else’s personal life.”

“Yeah. I understand that. So how old were you when you got divorced? The first time, I mean.”

“Twenty-two.” He gave her another quick look. “You don’t think I’m too pathetic now, do you?”

She was struck all at once by how incredibly sweet he was. He wasn’t anything like Arthur at all. Being with him didn’t mean she was clinging to him or depending on him or not standing on her own feet.

She gave him a little smile and scooted closer. “I don’t think you’re pathetic at all.”

“Good.” His eyes heated up as she drew nearer to him.

He hadn’t shaved since the morning, and she could see a slight stubble on his chin and cheeks.

It made her want to rub it. He still wore the clothes he’d gone to work in, and both the trousers and the shirt were wrinkled.

One side of his collar was turned in wrong.

The sleeves were rolled up so she could see the dark hair on his forearms. His hands were big and slightly rough. He worked with them a lot.

His eyes never left her face as she moved onto her knees beside him. He still had a little of that clean smell she knew from the mornings, but he also smelled warm and natural—like he did at the end of the day.

“What are you thinking?” he asked at last, his voice thicker than before.

“I’m thinking…” She reached out to smooth down one piece of his hair that always flipped up strangely. It didn’t stay down. It just flipped up again. “I’m thinking I might want to kiss you.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Nothing, she realized. Nothing was stopping her. She wanted to be with him, and he clearly wanted to be with her. And there was nothing wrong with it. It wasn’t a promise of a future. It was just what they wanted for tonight.

“Nothing,” she said, putting her hand on his shoulder and then moving over to straddle his lap.

His hands immediately slid down her back to cup her bottom through the thin fabric of her leggings. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“I’m waiting for now.” She learned forward, brushing her lips lightly against his, then pressing them there more firmly.

He made a throaty sound and deepened the kiss, bringing one hand up to tangle in her hair and then hold her head in place. She really got into the kiss, tangling her tongue with his and rubbing her body against the lean strength of him. It wasn’t long until she was growing aroused.

She could feel that he was too.

She was grinding herself against him eagerly when he suddenly jerked out of the kiss. “Damn, Allison. We can just kiss if you want to, but it would help if I knew if you wanted to take it further. I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Her heart overflowed with appreciation at this considerate gesture. She smiled down at him. “I want to do a lot more than kiss, if that’s okay with you.”

“Thank God,” he groaned, grabbing the edge of her top and pulling it up over her head. His eyes raked over her body like he’d never seen anything he wanted more.

She felt beautiful and powerful and incredibly excited as she grabbed his head for another kiss.

Rob was different. She was different.

It wasn’t like being with Arthur. She wasn’t going to do that to herself again.