Page 70 of Off Limits
“No, I guess not,” I say gently. “Sorry if it feels like I dropped off the face of the earth or something. The truth is, I met someone.”
It feels strange to say it that way—to describe Dani and I in adult, relationship terms—but that’s how it feels. Like I met someone. Or rather, like I found someone. Someone who’s been there all along, just out of reach until now.
“Oh, that’s great,” she says sincerely. “I’m happy to hear that, Jean-Luc.”
I study her face. She’s been such a surprise, Cynthia, from those first fumblings in my car outside the restaurant, to our wildly inappropriate phone calls, she’s so much more complex than I originally took her for. Complex, and unflappable. I wonder if Cynthia’s looking for love, or happy to just keep exploring her own sexuality for now.
“Things, uh, okay with Bob?” It pains me to ask. It feels like a betrayal to his wife, but I want to show interest in Cynthia’s life too—with no judgment.
“Eh.” She shrugs. “I don’t know. I think he’s trying to reconcile with his wife. I’m on sugardaddy.com now.”
“Oh!” I breathe a laugh. I didn’t know so blatant a site existed, but it sounds like a good fit for Cynthia. “Well, that sounds like it could be, uh…very lucrative for you.”
“Yes.” She smiles. “I’m having fun.”
My phone rings and I pull it out of my pocket, heart sinking when I see who’s calling. It’s Melanie.
I sigh. “I have to get this.”
“I’ll see you later.” She winks and struts out of the kitchen.
I watch her leave and then take a breath before answering. “What is it, Melanie?”
“Well, hello to you, too, mister.”
“What do you want? Is Patrick there?”
“No.” She sounds offended. “Patrick is not here. You don’t need to send your fucking henchman. I’m leaving.”
“Oh.” My shoulders drop an inch. “Great.”
She snorts. “Well, don’t sound too happy it. Christ, J.L.”
“You’re going to Cathy’s house?”
“No, actually. I’m going back to New Mexico. Jack called and we talked it all out.”
I still have no idea why she left New Mexico, can barely retain the name Jack. There have been so many men on the sidelines of my life with Melanie that after a while they all started blending into meaningless noise. Jack or no Jack, it doesn’t matter. It all comes down to Melanie. Melanie leaving. Melanie creating drama. Melanie being all about Melanie.
“Uh, okay. Great.”
“Unlike some people, Jack is capable of learning and growing, and now he understands that without my art, I’m nothing, J.L. I’m nothing.”
“Melanie,” I interrupt her. “What about Danica? Are you going to call her?”
She gives a heavy sigh. “I wasn’t a bad mother, you know.”
“I didn’t say you were.” I didn’t say it, no, but I’ve come to realize I’ve been thinking it ever since I first met Melanie and Danica—at least on some level. Ever since Danica’s hand was only big enough to wrap around one of my fingers and I realized how little structure that child had before I met her mother. Ever since Melanie started drifting off on her little sex escapades, leaving us alone at home together.
Ever since she offered to help disguise my relationship with her daughter so that she could still claim the benefits of being my wife.
“I just don’t think I’m cut out for it.”
“Okay. No argument there, but—“
“Stop.” I can almost see her rolling her eyes. “I told you, whenever you say ‘but’ you negate everything you said before.”
“Melanie, I think you should call Danica.”