Page 71 of I Love My Mistake

Chapter Thirty

A Half Hour After That

We’re both jarred awake by a loud knock at the front door. I blink, reaching back from the fog. Mark’s furnace-warm body is wrapped around mine, and the heat of him makes it harder to realize where I am, what I heard, what’s going on.

“What was that?” I mutter.

He stretches and waits. His voice is as groggy as I feel. “A knock?”

My heart begins to beat harder. Who would be knocking with that much force? The only answer that that makes sense is Michael.

Another knock comes, and it sounds less loud, less sure.

“Guess so,” Mark says, and starts to rise.

“Wait,” I apply pressure to him with all my limbs, snuggling up. “You’re so warm. I don’t want to get up.”

He hesitates and tenses. “Don’t you want to know who it is?”

I shrug, my head hidden against his chest so his x-ray emotion-vision can’t see my face. There is no way I want a face-off with Mark and Michael right now. My heart twists just thinking about it. This day has been so wonderful. I don’t want to let my happiness go just yet. Why is he here exactly when I don’t want him to be? Why wasn’t he here when he had the chance?

I deflect Mark’s curiosity. My head is still lying on him, my eyes hidden from his view. “It’s probably my neighbor wanting to use the phone. She always forgets hers somewhere. Such a ditz.” I make a little scoffing sound and squeeze my eyes shut tightly, hoping he’ll accept this and stay here in bed with me.

He relaxes and adjusts his bare legs so that they encircle mine. “Well, looks like she gave up.”

I don’t agree with him. Not yet. I don’t want to jinx it. We wait in silence. I pray Michael, go away… if it is him. I’m also dying to know, which is the horrible part. Part of me wants to go peek, but of course, that would be stupid. Masochistic. Wrong.

No knock comes. Soon Mark’s chest rises and falls back into dreamland. I close my eyes, but I can’t fall asleep. With my heart beating as hard as it is, with the guilt and the shame pouring through my veins, I’m picturing Michael standing at my door with ferocious determination. Michael, so obsessed with me that he came all the way over here. The thought is absurd! Michael is only obsessed with art. But his showing up here last night makes me think it isn’t as absurd as my insecurity would have me believe.

It used to be me who showed up at the studio night after night just to see him, compelled to be around him as often as I could. Now the tables are turned, and if that was him, now he’s the one showing up unannounced. He’s the one who can’t stay away. How his eyes must have gleamed with need as he waited for me to open the door. His heart – how it must have raced. I know exactly how that feels. Mine used to race like that. If I’m honest with myself, it’s racing now.

I look up at Mark’s face and watch him sleep, his mouth slightly open, eyes relaxed and closed. I tell myself, stop it, Nicole.Stop thinking about Michael! Like a junkie picking up the needle after finally getting clean, I cannot afford the luxury of thinking about Michael Benitez. I will not fall down the rabbit hole and blow everything!

I squeeze my eyes shut and try my hardest to fall back asleep. The sound of Mark’s breathing is comforting, but it isn’t enough. I want a cigarette. Dammit! My heart won’t slow down. I have to get up. I can’t lie here anymore. I lay my head on Mark’s chest and listen to his heartbeat, so soft and steady. I look at his face, thinking, he deserves better than this. I bring my finger to lightly trace his nose, so straight and regal. He doesn’t wake and I watch him sleep, wishing I was ready for a man like him.

Another knock on the door. I sit up fast, heart slamming me into an upright position.

Mark wakes abruptly and looks toward me, then the door. “Another knock?”

I nod, slowly. “Mmhmm.”

I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this. What do I do? What do I say? I dart my eyes down to Mark. He’s inspecting my face, my emotions.

Uh oh.

I roll my eyes. “She just bugs me when she does this.”

He nods and sits up, but he’s still looking at me like he’s not sure what’s happening, or what he should do.

Go kick Michael’s ass, Mark! Rip him out of my head while you’re at it.

I smile and slide out of the bed, snatching my short silk robe from a hook in my closet. Mark starts to get out of my bed, but I hold a hand up to stop him.

“It’s okay. I’ll be right back.”

He shakes his head and climbs out. I watch him, horrified. A harder knock reaches us. Jesus! That’s three. Mark passes by me naked to get his jeans from the bathroom. I race to the door, my heart beating so hard it hurts, my eyes darting around as I try helplessly to plan what to do. It’s impossible! There is no planning something like this! There is no way I can stop this train from sliding off the rails.

I grab the doorknob. Mark walks into the studio behind me, zipping up his pants. I look over and see he has no shoes, no socks, no shirt. His hair is all over the place. I’m sure mine is no better. We look like we just fucked. My head starts to spin and despite the voice screaming in my head don’t open the door, I open it. Kathy, my neighbor, is standing on my welcome mat, annoyed.