Tied Up In Knots

 


I don't know what time it was but it was late. I laid naked in Duncan's arms watching the city of Chicago go about its business. We were wrapped only in a white sheet, our legs entwined and he was rubbing small circles over my bare stomach. "This view is breathtaking."  I said caught up in the hustle and bustle of the city even at this late hour.  Duncan didn't reply right away, but I never expected him to, he either didn't have anything worth saying or he was thinking about what I said. "The view is nice, but you are breathtaking."  I giggled like a schoolgirl and let him pull me in closer. It was quiet for a long while, but in true Duncan style, when he said something it was something worth saying. His words broke the silence. "I love you Lydia."
 
****
I was up to my elbows in briefs when Claire came bounding into my office. Her red suit, tailored to fit her curves and just short enough so her legs didn’t go unnoticed. She had an amazing way of dressing so that women respected her and men wanted her, a god given talent, I once told her. She was a vixen, that was for sure and more than one man in our office lost their train of thought as she’d saunter by.
 
"So did you ever think of a threesome? Duncan on one side, Patrick on the other. It seems like a win win to me." Leave it Claire to be thinking something like that as she walked by my office.
 
"Of course it seems like a win win to you Claire." We both laughed.
 
"Oh come on, tell me you never thought about it. Tell me you never thought of them both taking care of you at the same time, hands everywhere, two sets of lips on you." I looked up at her and smirked giving her the answer without saying it. "I knew it! You act all innocent, but you've got bad girl instincts. You're more like me than you want to admit. Now when are you going to introduce me to that little hot shot, Patrick Kane? I so want to school that boy."
 
"I don't think he can handle you Claire. How about Brent or maybe Adam. Yes! You and Adam, now that would be awesome." She wrinkled up her nose at me. "What? Adam's good looking," I protested.
 
"Yeah I’ve met Adam. He's got great eyes I'll give him that, but he behaves like a twelve year old, all those practical jokes would sincerely get on my nerves. Adam Burish makes my Kaner look mature. No I'm saving myself for Patrick Kane. That boy has a dirty streak in him. I can feel it."
 
"You can feel it? You've never even met him."
 
"I have a sixth sense about these things. Trust me. So when do I get to meet him?"
 
"Oh come on Claire let me fix you up with Adam. He's really sweet and funny and, well you've seen him play hockey." I raised my eyebrows knowing she'd get my meaning.
 
"If you’re so keen on Mr. Burish why don't you add him to your little harem. Unless maybe you already have. Maybe you and Sharpie played around with Adam too?"
 
Only Claire could make me mad blush the way I did just then. "We did not, and you so need to get laid so you stop worrying over my sex life."
 
“Introduce me to Kaner and I swear no more jokes about threesomes.” She batted her pretty brown eyes at me.
 
"Fine. I'll see what I can do, but I swear if you break him…"
 
We both broke into a fit of laughter. She had no idea how much I appreciated her humor. How much her friendship meant to me. She kept me sane and gave me perspective and a good laugh, a void left from the absence of my husband. As soon as we recovered, I got serious again.
 
“He loves me Claire?” A bit out of the blue, but I felt like I needed Claire’s advice.
 
“Oh God not Kaner too? Is there anyone on the Chicago Blackhawks you’re not sleeping with?”
 
“Shut it! You know I’m not talking about Kaner – that’s your territory. Duncan. Duncan loves me or at least he says he does.”
 
“and?”
 
“And? What do you mean ‘and’?”
 
“And…that surprises you?” she asked.
 
“Yes it does. I’m just not sure when this became about us falling in love.”
 
“Your pretty naive if you thought you were going to share his bed all this time and he wasn’t going to start to have feelings for you. I suspect he’s had feelings for you from the very beginning.”
 
“It’s only been three months, and I should be a man’s dream Claire. Imagine how many calls I’d get from my personal ad…Single woman looking for good time, no strings attached.”
 
“That may be, but you’ve got yourself a pretty good man there. How many men do you know that can rock your world in the bedroom and still care about you the way he does? He puts up with a lot of ex-husband bullshit.”
 
“He is amazing isn’t he?” I said more as statement than a question. I was fully aware of how wonderful Duncan was.
 
“Don’t let him get away angel face. And hey, if you decide you don’t want him, give him my number.”
 
Just as we were laughing, the speaker of my phone crackled. “Lydia, your husband’s here to see you.”
 
Claire rolled her eyes and I told the receptionist to send him back.
 
“Remind me to send her a memo to refer to Mr. Sharp as your 'ex-husband.' Or better yet, 'the cheating bastard.' Don’t let him get to you Lyd. He’s not worth it. Duncan loves you,” she teased.
 
Just as she was walking out Patrick came in. “Don’t touch her!” Claire snapped and proceeded through the doorway.
 
Ignoring her remark Patrick said, “Claire, You’re looking stunning as always.”
 
“Fuck off!” she muttered and continued down the hallway.
 
I didn’t speak to him right away, even when we were still a couple there was something about him entering a room when we’d been apart for a little while that would catch me off guard. It was the same thing that made my eyes snap to his that first day we met. Maybe it was how handsome he was, the perfect cheek bones and rugged jaw or maybe it was the impossible confidence in practically any situation, or the witty charm that brightened a room and made every conversation interesting and fun. Truth be told it was a combination of all those things that made me breathless, that scared me when we dated, because I knew he could break me with the snap of his fingers. He made me lose control, he loosened me up and made me laugh like I’d never laughed before in my life. It was the reason I ultimately said yes to his proposal of marriage, because my life was better with him in it. At least it used to be.
 
My reaction to his presence was no longer a good thing, and I shrugged it off like shrugging off the last two years of my life. “What are you doing here?” I finally asked, coming to my senses, and putting things back into perspective.
 
“Well part of my penance for being a royal fuck up is to find you an apartment. I found two, close by and I want to take you to see them. We can walk.”
 
“Come on Patrick they don’t expect you to actually fine me an apartment yourself. I’m perfectly capable of doing it. You just have to pay for it.”
 
“That’s not what the man said Lydia. Besides, I’m not going to have my wife living someplace that I haven’t inspected.”
 
“I’m not your wife anymore,” I insisted, “and you can’t just show up here and think that I can leave with you on a whim.”
 
“You are still my wife and you’re just being difficult Lydie. Let me do this. Let me find you a place to live, a place that you deserve. I screwed us up. Let me just try to fix something. Maybe make you hate me a little less.”
 
“I don’t hate you Patrick.”
 
“No?” He leaned over the desk and made me meet his eyes. “You don’t?”
 
“I don’t,” I completely caved, “I could never hate you Patrick.” I never head Claire’s warnings and I always fall into his trap. I’m not sure if it was fair to blame him. He was just being his normal lovable, charming self and I was just as hypnotized by him as the day I met him.
 
“And isn’t it your lunch time?” he asked and I nodded. “Then let’s go. I’ll buy you an expensive hot dog from the cart and we’ll go find you a place to live.” Not sure why, but there was no hesitation. I stood up and took his hand that he had outstretched for me and we walked hand in hand out of my office.
 
Old habits die hard.
 
****
 
"I don't know Patrick. Do you really see me living in a place like this? It's a little…"
 
"Sterile."
 
"Exactly."
 
"The realtor made is sound more homey." Patrick looked sincerely disappointed.
 
The apartment was beautiful, with gigantic windows and one of the most amazing views of Chicago that I've ever seen. It was large with big open spaces that I liked, but everything else made it feel cold. It was ultra modern, an apartment a techie would love with voice activated lights and blinds, it was sleek with stainless countertops and gray walls. Of course the wall color could be changed, but the windows didn't open, because the apartment was too high up, essential for safety, Patrick explained as I rolled my eyes at him. Patrick knew as well as I did that this wasn't the place for me.
 
"It's nice Patrick, really, but it's just not me, and it must be ridiculously expensive."
 
"Do you really think I care what it costs Lyd? I just want you to have a place that's safe, that you love. I don't want you staying in that dump you're at now."
 
"Patrick you've never even been to my place."
 
"I know the type of place, temporary rent by the month. The club put me up in one when I first came from Philly. I'm sure the rooms are small and boxy just like you hate, the appliances are probably old and the furniture probably smells."
 
I felt my body stiffen, and the spell he had me under wore off a bit. He was right, the place I was living was horrible, and everything he said was true, but it was what I could afford on my own salary. It was my way of taking care of myself after mistakenly letting him take care of me for almost two years. I needed to provide for myself. I wasn't about to let him criticize me for it. "There's nothing wrong with where I live Patrick!" I snapped and walked away from him. It was like whatever connection we had from the time he walked into my office until now snapped, I had gained perspective back and just wanted to be away from him.
 
He found me standing in the bedroom looking out the window, contemplating how much my life had changed over the past six months. How much I wish I still lived in the house that we had built, furnished and decorated together. That house was home, and I wasn't sure I'd ever lose that feeling. He put his hands on my upper arms and gave them a squeeze. "I wasn't criticizing Lydie. I just want to give you something. Something perfect, something that's you. The place you live now, it's not you. You deserve better than that." I didn't reply, but didn't step away from him either, so he wrapped his arms around me resting his chin on my shoulder. I let out a sigh completely powerless against moments like this. Needing them and wanting them more than anything in this world, and battling with myself to just move away from him. His face settled into the crook of my neck and he rubbed small circles on my arms with the pads of his thumbs. "You smell so good Lyd. I miss this, times like this. I miss you so much."
 
I wasn't in the mood to argue, to throw the whore in his face again, though I know it would have been the best thing for me in the long run. I missed him too, but I couldn't actually say those words. I could never actually say those words to him again. It would open up Pandora’s box. A single tear rolled from my eye and down my cheek. In five days we'd be divorced, and I'd never have moments like these again. It made me vulnerable to him. He knew it. He could feel me giving in to him, but thankfully, he didn't take advantage of it. He gave me a small kiss on the side of my head. "Come on, let's go," he instructed taking my hand again and leading me out of the apartment.
 
I sat on the bench waiting for Patrick to return with our lunch and watching the city pass me by. The hustle and bustle of it all was relaxing and kept me from my own issues at least momentarily. He sat down handing me my hot dog and Diet Coke. Maybe it was a simple thing, but it was an old routine from the dozens of lunches we shared. I would save us a seat and he would get me my lunch knowing instinctively what I'd want and join me on the bench. We ate quietly enjoying the familiarity of it all, occasionally taking innocent glances at each other coming up with shy little smiles. He sweetly put his napkin to my face and wiped away mustard that was left, remnants of my lunch. His eyes caught mine allowing me a portal into his soul, how sorry he was, how much he truly loved me. His eyes were making sure I knew all of this, filling me with guilt and sorrow and ruining our little moment. I did not want to feel guilty. This wasn't my fault. I couldn't help it if he still loved me, I couldn't even help that I still loved him. It had to end.
 
Despite fighting the my feelings, my heart pounding from my chest when he came too close to me, and the butterflies fluttering up my arm and around my body when he'd grab my hand, I was having a good time with Patrick. He made me smile and laugh with his little comments and jokes, and he wasn't pressuring me or making me feel bad that the end was near. For the very first time since I'd discovered his indiscretion, I had hope that we could someday, in the distant future, once the dust had settled and our hearts had mended just a little, maybe, we could be friends.
 
We hurriedly made our way to the second apartment building in an effort for me to get back to work in a reasonable amount of time. I wasn't really paying attention to the direction we were walking, until all of a sudden we were outside of Duncan's building. He started to pull me inside when I stopped dead in my tracks. "What are we doing here?" I asked plenty annoyed, but not knowing why exactly.
 
"This is where the second apartment is."
 
"This is Duncan's building," I stated sternly.
 
"Yeah, I know."
 
"What do you mean you know?"
 
"I thought this might be what you want, an apartment in the same building as your boyfriend."
 
"What?" I snapped. I wasn’t even about to discuss the fact that he called Duncan my boyfriend. "You seriously want to buy me and apartment in Duncan's building? Where I'd be closer to Duncan on a regular basis?"
 
"I want you to be happy. Will this make you happy Lydia?" He pointed to the impossibly tall building.
 
"No…I mean yes… I mean…I don't know Patrick. We've only been dating a couple of months."
 
"So you don't want to live this close to Duncan?" I could see him waiting, anticipating my answer, like it was a test and this was pass or fail.
 
I didn't know how I felt about living in the same building as Duncan. Everything with us was so new, fresh and uncomplicated. Living in the same building would add a whole new layer of complexity and commitment that I wasn't sure either of us was ready for. Ok, I knew I wasn't ready for it, and, despite him uttering that he loved me the night before, I had no idea how Duncan would take something like that. I couldn't read him like I'd always been able to do with Patrick. Maybe he'd like us living that close together, and maybe he'd think I was too clingy and needy simply for the suggestion. It is one thing to love someone, or think you do, and quite another to live that close where we'd be in constant contact. The question was sprung on me so quickly that I didn't know how to answer, but I was pretty sure that living in Duncan's building at this point and time was a bad idea.
 
Patrick was watching me as I went through my thought process, and reading me like a book, his face held a giant smirk. He looked the same way when we'd played poker and I tipped my hand. "Oh you guys aren't that serious?" His face held a mixture of relief and satisfaction, and I couldn't help wanting to slap it.
 
"That's none of your business! What Duncan and I do and how close we are is none of your concern." I turned to walk away and get away from him as quickly as possible before I snapped. Of course he wasn't done talking and he curled his hand around my wrist. "Stop, just stop. I admit I brought you here for the wrong reasons. I wanted to see for myself what reaction you'd have. I wanted to see in it in your eyes, the way you'd react. If you'd look the same way you do when you look at me."
 
"Used to look at you." I corrected.
 
"The way you do look at me Lydia."
 
"Patrick," I snapped and yanked my hand away. "When I look at you all I see is you naked snuggled up to that blond bitch. Mind your own business where Duncan and I are concerned."  I finally got my break from him, but not the last word.
 
As I walked down the street headed back to work, he yelled out, "You love me Lydia. You can deny it all you want, but you love me!"
 
He wasn't wrong.
 
****
 
 
"It's Open!" I heard from the outside of Duncan's apartment. I walked inside and all the stress of my day, the case I was working on, the apartment fiasco, all of it instantly disappeared. I couldn’t hold back my smile. The smell was amazing, tomatoes, sausage and peppers and behind the kitchen counter was Duncan wearing tight blue jeans, a black t-shirt that clung to every curve and bump of muscle in his chest and arms, and an apron tied around his waist. It was a sight to behold as he stirred a large pot of sauce and brought the spoon to his lips. I never wanted to be a spoon before in my life, but now seemed like a good time. I had visions of him throwing me down right there in the kitchen and ravaging me like a wild beast. I would argue that his bedroom skills rivaled his hockey skills, how could I not want that? Regaining my composure, I made my way to him pressing into him from behind and wrapping my arms around him. I let my hands explore his hard chest and let out a long "Mmmmm."
 
"Smells good?" He asked thinking my moan was aimed at the admittedly amazing aroma, which it wasn't.
 
"Feels good." I corrected and squeezed the muscled of his biceps.
 
"Yeah?" He asked, not looking for reassurance, but rather confirmation. "Uh Huh." I replied biting my lip. He dropped the spoon on the counter, grabbed a hold of my hips and lifted me up on the cold granite counter top. His mouth crashed on mine devouring my lips and tongue as if they were the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted. I pressed my chest into him and ran my fingers through his hair that he had carefully tucked behind his ear. I let out a disappointed moan as he pulled only his lips away. "Somebody's horny," he whispered and watched as I blushed, guilty as charged. "We'll take care of that in a bit. I made dinner." He turned away to tend to his pots.
 
"Why do you think I'm horny?" I teased implying that it was him making dinner in all his sexy goodness that had me riled up.
 
"Is that all it takes? All that work I do with my lips and my fingers, and all I needed to do was cook you dinner?"
 
"Oh no. I like that too."
 
"Do you?" He asked and slipped a glass of red wine into my hand.
 
"Very much." He gave me an appreciative smirk and brought the wooden spoon to my mouth letting me taste his concoction. "Amazing."
 
"Now are you talking about my cooking or my chest this time?" He laughed.
 
"Both." I answered honestly and took a sip of my wine. "Maybe you should find a woman that can cook for you Duncan. You deserve that you know."
 
He brought his face to mine ran his tongue across my lips teasingly. His hands rested momentarily on my thighs. "I've got all the woman I need right here." His lips came together into a pucker that landed sweetly on the tip of my nose.
 
"You could have all the woman you need in the bedroom if you wanted me that way," I teased.
 
He didn't say anything, flipped the burners off the stove to the off position, and grabbed me up from the counter top. "What are you doing?" I yelled at him between giggles.
 
"I've gotta keep my girl happy."