Love Confessed Read online

  4 Steve

  All I can think in this moment with the sun barely starting to rise through the crack in the drapes, is how good it feels to hold Leah and how much fun I had with her last night. I didn’t think I would ever feel this way about another woman ever again. I mean, I’ve tried dating since Janie died but I never felt a real connection with any of the women. It was more of a way just to get Scott off my back or occupy my time when Abby was away at the farm. But Leah, man, I can’t describe it. She’s tucked into my nook and we feel perfect together.

  To think that all this time I was so unsure of whether or not she realized I even existed. Now I know that she did, and that I have the same affect on her that she has on me. Either that or she’s really drunk tonight and has let loose. I’m not entirely sure what has caused it, but I do know that I like this Leah more than the one who tries to ignore me in the halls of her office. I’m hoping that she was sober enough to not regret what we did last night. I know I sure as hell don’t regret it.

  I wasn’t quite as intoxicated as she was but I know there isn’t even a chance that she didn’t want this, not with the way she was in bed last night. She wasn’t the reserved, controlled, polite professional woman I’ve encountered all of these times before. She was bold. She was brave. She was so sexy, so pliable in my hands that night. She’s been all I can think about all week and I know she had to have felt the electricity between us when we bumped into each other on Monday. Then again last night. There is no denying it. Our connection is practically tangible. I’m certain this is something we both not only wanted but needed. With that thought, that feeling of perfect contentment I drift back off to sleep.

  The next time I wake, it is to a room full of sunlight that has snuck through the heavy hotel curtains and is now blinding me. Oh God, my head has a dull aching in the back of it and when I roll over to look at the clock on the bedside table it reads 6:30am. It’s not until I roll back over and reach for Leah that I realize she’s not in the bed. I wonder where she went, how I didn’t hear her get up. I get up to check the bathroom hoping that she’s ok. She drank quite a bit last night and, well, if I feel like this after a couple of scotches I can just imagine how she’s feeling.

  “Leah?” I lightly knock on the door and it slowly creaks open. I step inside and look around but it’s empty. I shout her name as I go to the living room area of the suite, but she’s not in there either. When I go back to the bedroom I notice her all of her stuff is gone. What the fuck? She left.

  * * *

  I have no way of reaching Leah on Saturday or Sunday, so when Monday comes around I call her office. I need to know that she’s ok and that I didn’t overstep some sort of boundary. I realize as I dial the number (the number that I had to look up because I wasn’t about to call Scott directly), that I have been making myself crazy all weekend to check on a woman I barely even know. A woman, who ran out on me after a night of, what I remember to be, incredible sex. And I remember a lot. It was so incredible, once we started touching each other, that I feel like I instantly sobered. Like I knew that I wanted to be able to remember every second of it. Jesus. I feel like my head is spinning already when, after two rings, the receptionist picks up.

  “Good Morning, Sanders and Smith Law Office. This is Kelly.” The slightly high pitched voice of the receptionist answers.

  “Good Morning Kelly, may I speak with Ms. Collins please?” I ask, more gruffly than I intend to.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but she is out of the office this week. Would you like her voicemail?”

  Shit. No I don’t want her fucking voicemail. I’m really pissed now and honestly I’m not even sure why. It’s not Kelly’s fault that Leah ran off and left me going crazy with no way to contact her.

  “Uhh, no thank you. Do you know if she will be checking her emails?”

  I’m starting to feel like a desperate prick. I’m starting to panic and again, this is a feeling I don’t care for.

  “Yes Mr. Cooper, she should be checking her emails while she’s out.”

  Fuck. Of course they have caller ID, I don’t know what I was thinking. Kelly’s placating tone just confirms that I sound as crazy as I feel right now so I thank her and hang up. What the hell is wrong with me? So what if she’s out of the office this week. So what if she skipped out after a night of amazing sex. I’ve done that before too, so I can’t figure out why can’t not stop thinking about her. Maybe it’s because I’ve never been the one left behind. Even so, my behavior is starting to feel a bit irrational. But for some reason I need to know that she’s ok. I need to know that I didn’t take advantage of her in her inebriated state, so I sit down and send her a quick email. Well, not a quick e-mail. The three simple sentence that I manage to put together take me an insane amount of time to type up. It takes me even longer to work up the courage to send it.

  Another unwelcome thought occurs to me just as I finally manage to hit send the send button, what if the sex wasn’t as good for her as it was for me? I haven’t doubted my abilities in bed since I lost my virginity in high school. God, what a fumbling mess that was. I’m embarrassed just thinking about it. I was 16 and had just made the football team as the second string quarterback. The girl’s name was Brooke, of course she was a cheerleader, and at the time the prettiest girl I had seen. I asked her out for a date and by the end of it we found ourselves parked in my dad’s truck in a deserted area of town. We started just by making out but it was her that wanted to go further. I didn’t even come prepared but she did. When I tried to take off her bra it snapped her back and instantly welted. I felt horrible and told her we didn’t have to do anything but she wasn’t ready to stop. Trying to take of my clothes in such a confined space was also a problem and I was falling all our just trying to get my pants down.

  When I finally succeeded with the awkward show I made of undressing, the sex was really uncomfortable because I had no idea what to do with a woman. I had only dreamt about it up to that point. Needless to say that was my last date with Brooke. I decided then that I would learn whatever I needed to, whatever I could, before the next time I had sex. I needed to ensure that the experience I had with Brooke never, ever happened again. Just thinking about it makes me laugh. All of that fumbling and awkwardness and it never occurred to either of us to go lay down in the bed of the truck. Kids.

  As the week drags on, different reasons as to why she would just leave keep creeping into my mind. Mixed with the actually memories of what it was like to kiss her, to hold her, to be inside her. I can’t believe how desperate I feel to be able to experience those things again. I can’t concentrate and quite frankly everything has me on edge. Everything except Abby. As crazy as I feel like this thing with Leah has me becoming, I have to keep my shit together for my daughter. I take a few deep breaths and feel like I am finally ready to brush this off when my phone vibrates. It’s Scott so I answer automatically even though the second I do, I wish I hadn’t.

  “Hey Scott, what’s up?”

  “Not much. How are things going?” he asks, sounding a little weird.

  “They’re fine. How are going for you?”

  After a long pause he says, “They’re fine but is everything okay with Abby?”

  That came out of nowhere. He’s never been concerned with Abby’s well being and honestly why should he be. “Yeah Abby’s fine, what’s going on Scott?” I ask, wanting him to get to the point.

  “Nothing. Kelly just told me that you called for Leah. You know she doesn’t practice business law, right? Just didn’t know what was going on – wanted to make sure everything was okay with the family.”

  Shit! I wasn’t even thinking about Scott when I called for Leah. “Oh yea. Everything’s fine.” My pause longer than I intend because, hell, what do I say to her boss?! Apparently, my pause is long enough for him to figure something out.

  “Wait!” He says like there’s a light bulb going off in his head. “Are you and Leah… a thing?” His normal playboy banter is gone when he’s
talking about his friend and, I get the vibe, something of a little sister.

  “No, no. No. We’re not. I, uh, I just talked to her about some stuff at the party that I wanted to touch base with her about.”

  “Talked, eh?” He says suspiciously.

  “Uh, yea. Talked…” Fuck. I usually consider my honesty a good thing but right now I wish I wasn’t because I’m pretty sure he knows exactly what I’m doing.

  “Steve. Come on, man. You can tell me. We’re all adults here. What’s going on with you and Leah?”

  I can’t tell him. She would kill me. I have to remind myself of this before responding. “Really, nothing’s going on Scott. Hey I gotta run, talk to you later?” I say trying desperately to end this awkward conversation. I don’t think I could have endured a second more of his inquisition.

  “Jo?” I holler down the hall to her office. “Let’s go grab a beer. I think I’m done working today.”

  * * *

  On Thursday, I receive a call from Mrs. Withers, Abby’s teacher, telling me that she has been in some sort of altercation with another student in her class. I’m pretty sure it’s the little punk kid that wouldn’t let her see his Iron Man. She has scheduled a meeting with the boy’s mother for Friday and would like for all of us to sit down and discuss what has been happening at school between the two kids. Apparently this isn’t the first time they’ve had a disagreement but this this time it was bad enough that Mrs. Withers feels like both parents needed to step in. While this does at least sidetrack me from my worrying from Leah, it only serves to make me more angry and frustrated. God help anybody who gets in my way this week. I feel like I’m one disagreement from going on a rampage and turning into a total monster.

  When I get home that night, I make Abby and I dinner and decide I should get her side of the story before sitting down with her teacher and the other parent.

  “Hey sweetie, can you tell me what happened at school today?” I ask as nonchalantly as I can. She automatically jumps to the defense.

  “Ethan started it daddy! He always makes fun of me and teases me. Today he took my crayons and wouldn’t give them back. So I kicked him.”

  She says it so matter of fact, like kicking somebody you disagree with is a reasonable solution. Like it’s something that happens every day, like this is a normal dinner table conversation. Even though it makes me want to laugh I have to try to be the responsible role model I know that I should be.

  “Honey, you can’t kick people. You should have gone to Mrs. Withers and told her he was picking on you. I’m glad you stuck up for yourself but unfortunately in life you will learn that you can’t just hit someone because they make you mad.” She looks at me with her big hazel eyes, those eyes that look so much like her mothers, and I know that she knows I’m right. I’m pretty sure she also knows I wish I could tell her to kick this little punks ass.

  “Ok daddy, I’m sorry. Can you tell him to stop teasing me? He only does it because the other kids do it. It’s usually about my clothes. They say I dress like a boy, or an ugly girl.”

  What?! I thought I was doing a good job dressing her. Damn kids don’t know what they’re talking about. “Well I forgive you, but you will need to tell Ethan you’re sorry tomorrow. I’ll get you some new clothes so that’s not an issue anymore.”

  “Thank you, Daddy!”

  She throws her arms around my neck and kisses my cheek before getting back to her food. Man, I wish all problems in life were always this easy to solve.

  At exactly 3:30pm I walk into room seven of Washington Elementary School. Mrs. Withers is there but other than that, the room is empty. I greet Abby’s teacher and shake her hand before taking a seat at one of the desks in the front row so that I can still see Abby playing on the playground right outside. I barely fit on the tiny little chairs and contemplate standing for the entire meeting. As I shift and fidget in the chair trying to get comfortable, I hear the door open and turn to look. It’s Leah.

  5 Leah

  Holy crap, what is Steve doing here? Shit, shit, shit! I envisioned running into him at the office, seeing him in the halls, and I felt relatively prepared for the awkwardness I was certain would follow. This though? This is a thousand times worse than I ever imagined our first encounter post awesome drunken sex would be. It’s even worse than I thought that it could be. I haven’t seen him since I managed to sneak out of the hotel room that Saturday morning and suffice it to say that these close quarters are so much more intimate than I feel comfortable with.

  I was really, really hoping to sneak by with just a casual hello in passing. I was also hoping that it wouldn’t be quite so soon. I’m thoroughly embarrassed. More than embarrassed. I’m standing in the doorway speechless. Utterly horrified! What was I thinking? I mean, of course I had to run into him eventually; the man is a client of my boss and now he’s the father of the girl that Ethan has been having trouble with at school? Of, flipping, course. Could this situation be any more awkward? This is my luck. This is exactly why I don’t date. This is most definitely a sign that I should continue not dating and work on further broadening my collection of battery-operated boyfriends. Maybe I’ll look into rescuing a cat or three.

  Once I finally come to my senses and am able to move through the threshold, I make sure to I carefully avoid Steve’s arctic glare as I speak to Mrs. Withers. When I reach my hand out to shake his in an attempt to try to ease the quickly growing tension, the ice in his stare is unavoidable. I thought I was prepared to see him but now I realize that I wasn’t. The warm allure of his gaze, his normal magnetism – it’s all gone. He just looks pissed. I’m sure it has more to do with me leaving and not replying to his email than with the trouble our children are getting in to. Kelly even told me he called the office on Monday and sounded like a hot mess.

  I know I shouldn’t care but I feel disappointed with the way he is looking at me. Seeing him look at me like this makes me so desperately miss the way he looked at me in bed. I guess it’s time to face the music though. There is no avoiding him now.

  “Hello, Mr. Cooper.” I say loudly as I square my shoulders and stick my hand out. He finally reciprocates but only after waiting long enough to make me acutely aware of the fact that he’d rather not be shaking my hand. I’m not very excited about this situation either, but this would be a whole lot easier if he could act like an adult.

  “Hello.” His greeting is curt and his stare is growing more icy by the second. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of me, which has made it impossibly hard to take my eyes off of him.

  “Oh, you two know each other already? That’s wonderful!” I hear Mrs. Withers say cheerily and that helps me to pull my eyes away from Steve long enough to sit down at the desk next to him. As hard as it is, I manage to keep my gaze turned forward and try to focus on the very important matter at hand.

  “Vaguely.” He says in a low, undeniably angry tone.

  “Well then, let’s cut right to it.” Mrs. Withers continues, not noticing the hostility and tension in the room. “I think we need to discuss what has been going on between Ethan and Abby lately.” As she talks I’m trying really hard to pay attention but with Steve sitting so close, that is no easy task. My brain is in a fog and even though Mrs. Withers is sitting three feet away, I feel like she’s speaking across some sort of great expanse.

  Once I’m finally able to focus on what is being said, I get the idea that kids have been teasing Ethan because his dad is not around and other such things that kids tease each other about. In turn, Ethan has teased Abby about her mom not being there to dress her like a girl. I had talked to Ethan about this last night and I could tell that he genuinely felt bad for being mean to Abby. It was one of the harder conversations I’ve had to have as mom. It was so hard to reprimand him while I could see how badly he was hurting himself. I told him he needed to apologize to her and that he should know what it feels like to not have a parent there all the time.

  “I think this is entirely fixable. I can see that y
ou’re both terribly frustrated,” Mrs. Withers says, “but I want you to know that you both have lovely children. They’re kind, and smart, and besides these recent encounters, I’ve never had a problem with either of them in class. They’re both actually two of my favorite students. I just wanted to sit down and talk to you because I think that this just needs to be addressed, but don’t fret – you’re both doing a great job.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Withers. I just feel so bad both that Ethan has been struggling and I didn’t know, and that he used poor Abby as an outlet for his frustration.”

  “Leah,” Steve sighs and finally speaks after being silent nearly the entire meeting. Him breaking his silence catches both Mrs. Withers and I off guard for a moment. “I don’t think there’s anything for you to feel bad about. I think we’ve both just pretending we could do it all and hoping we could slide by avoiding addressing the absence of the other parent but now that they’re older it’s something we’ve got to sit and work out with them. But really, don’t feel bad.”

  “Neither of you should feel badly. Like I said, you’re both doing a great job parenting. Trust me. I’ve done it alone as well. When my son Matthew was eight my husband, his father, died of a heart attack so I definitely know what you both are going through and I’m here if either of you ever need an ear to listen or shoulder to cry on. Oh, and while I’m thinking about it – I know it’s been some time Steven since Abby’s mom passed but I know that it took me longer than I ever thought it would to heal and I know many valuable resources should you ever need an outlet to cope yourself.” Mrs. Withers kindly offers as she pats Steve’s hand and I can see his eyes start to glisten.