The Corporate's Wife by Max Hudson

Author:Max Hudson [Hudson, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-03-12T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

I wake up slowly the next morning, as the sun rises. It’s only around seven, but it feels more like midday. I’ve never felt so comfortable, so happy.

“Good morning, Mary.”

I roll over and wrap my arms around her, snuggling in close to her neck. Except, she smells differently, she doesn’t feel the same under my fingertips.

I finally decide to open my eyes, and the horror at what I discover is unrivalled. It’s not Mary under my grip, even though my subconscious knew that that was who I was supposed to wake up to. It’s not Mary, and it never will be Mary again. Instead, it’s James.

As I take a moment to get used to the new situation of things, it doesn’t really seem so bad. Last night was…what even happened last night? Oh, my God, I came onto him. I asked him to kiss me, to take me. In a state of partial inebriation, I lost my control, and I let my instinct take over.

I slowly climb out of bed, hoping beyond hope that I can do so without waking him. I need a second to collect my thoughts. I don’t want him to see me like this: confused and fragile.

I don’t even bother with my slippers and pad down the hallway, the sound of cold, clammy skin slapping against hard, unforgiving tile; it sends shivers up my spine. It’s been a while since I last smoked, but I feel like I need one this morning. As the kettle boils for coffee, I sneak one from James’ special stash, kept only for emergencies, like a failing case. I saw him smoke one outside court, the day he threw the case. The case that he threw for me.

Because he couldn’t see me hurt.

Because he couldn’t see me lose my job.

Because he cares about me.

I light the cigarette on the gas ring of the stove – I don’t even own a lighter anymore – and open the sliding French doors, out onto the balcony in cold New York air. I lean up against the metal railing, and the wind bites at my toes, licks my fingers, freezes my lungs. I take a drag, and as the smoke fills my lungs, I forget how to breathe. I cough and splutter, and I can’t get the smoke out, and I can’t get the air in, and…

A hard thump on my back nearly knocks me off the balcony and down sixteen stories, but it winds me just enough that I can catch my breath afterwards. I turn, and James stands in the doorway, illuminated by the backdrop of orange and red sunlight streaming, casting his silhouette on the floor, and on my heart once more.

“The kettle’s boiled.”

It’s only then that I notice the nasty screeching sound coming from the kitchen. I give my cigarette to James and rush inside, mostly because for the first time in my life, I feel awkward around him. I take a peek to see where he is, and my heart melts.

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