Succeeding Love

Looks Great on You, Mom

“Mama!” Jessie ran in for a hug as I waited for her at the bottom of the bleachers. “Did we miss anything?”

“No, no. They haven’t started yet.”

I held her tightly while watching her dad walk steadily down to the fields. He had on a polo with the school insignia on the breast, and his usual slacks. His eyes flashed at Vin for a moment, narrowing slightly, then looked back at me and Jessie, his expression softening to a friendly smile.

I felt like everyone was watching his approach. Some of the other parents knew about our divorce, and the way he left me last year. I felt like they were waiting for some kind of soap opera to play out.

This was Preston’s first varsity game. I really didn’t want to take the attention away from that.

“I didn’t know you both were coming down,” I said with a friendly grin when Nick got close. “You didn’t mention it.”

Jessie, who was looking at Vin with a curious expression, turned her pretty little face up to me. “Daddy said he didn’t want to miss Pres’s game either, and since you already had a ride, we flew down!” She looked over at Vin again when he mentioned the ride, and he nodded with a gentle smile back. I can’t even imagine what’s going through his head right now.

“Wow, you flew!” Sherry said loudly, breaking some of the tension. “What a lucky girl! We were stuck in a sweat-smelling car for over six hours getting here.”

“Must have cost you a pretty penny,” Sherry’s husband said, shaking Nick’s hand.

“I used my miles, so it wasn’t bad,” Nick shrugged.

“We flew first class, mama! They gave me orange juice and cookies!” Jessie’s face was pure excitement. Despite the circumstances, I’m glad her father spoiled her a bit.

Nick looked me up and down, a smile stretching on his face as he lingered on my shirt. “That’s cute. How did Preston take it?”

“I don’t think he’s noticed yet.” I looked over at the field, and saw Preston talking with the coaches, stealing glances our way.

Nick looked down at his own shirt. “Maybe I should get a shirt made too.”

“That would be a sight,” I scoffed. I couldn’t even picture it in my head.

“Where’s your car?” Jessie looked around the parking lot. “We couldn’t find it.

“We took mine.” Vin stood up, coming down the bleachers, stepping over each descending bench with his thick legs. People were watching again, ready for whatever was to come next, but I couldn’t stop staring at Vin’s legs long enough to care much.

That frustration in my belly was coming back, and this was definitely not the time to be lusting over Vin. No matter how good he looks in his fitted white shirt with his tattoos and muscles bulging out, and his faded, butt-hugging jeans.

“Hi, Jessie. It’s good to see you again.”

Jessie smiled shyly at him, and by the sparkle in her eyes, I could tell she was shy for more reasons than just Vin saying hi. She is my daughter, after all. “It’s good to see you again too.”

Vin’s smile stretched as he held a hand out to shake hers. She hesitantly took it, then tucked herself back into my side.

“Kevin,” Nick nodded tightly, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Nick,” Vin responded curtly, his gentle expression slipping away. He rested a hand on the small of my back, and those frustrated feelings inside me resulted in my belly clenching again. I could smell his cologne, and after wondering how he was taking my ex being here, it was reassuring to feel his hand on me. “You should have said something last night about coming to the game. I would have brought extra bleacher pads.” He smiled down at Jessie. “You can have mine.”

“Thank you,” Jessie smiled shyly, looking at the seats fastened to the bleachers, then back at us. “Um, you saw my daddy last night?”

Did Nick not say anything to Jessie? Maybe he was leaving it for me to explain, even though I thought Jessie already knew. She saw the flowers and the note.

Vin tensed, so I answered the question instead. “Vin and I were having a date at home when your dad came by last night to get you clothes.” I kept my voice level, but when I saw her eyes widen when I said ‘date’, my breath caught in my chest.

She looked at Vin again with a confused look, and then it was like everything registered in her mind. “You were the one who sent mama flowers?!”

Vin rubbed the back of his neck. “Guilty.”

“Oh!” Jessie looked shocked for a second, then her face fell. She turned around and stared at her father in a way that made my chest just sink. “I didn’t know.”

Nick just smiled calmly, his hands still in his pockets and a tenderness in his eyes. “I know, sweetie. It’s okay.”

It got tense for a second, the awkward silence stretching to a full minute.

Then Sherry, praise her soul, said loudly, “Take a seat, you guys. I can’t see past your butts!”

~

Vin

This is awkward. I didn’t know how to fucking act when I saw this douchebag strolling up like he owned the place.

We fumbled for a second going up the bleachers, Lynn’s daughter taking the seat that I just left while Lynn sat back down in hers. There wasn’t much extra room, only a spot by Jessie, and Nick hurried to take it with a smug expression before I could.

“Here, honey,” Sherry, Lynn’s friend, moved up to the seat in front of her, opening up the spot right beside Lynn. “It won’t hurt me any to sit by my husband for once.”

“Thanks,” I said appreciatively. I was about to take the spot in front of Lynn and just lean back against her legs, but I guess that would be too much. Especially in front of her kids.

The need to show this prick she’s moved on is making me jittery, though. I want to just fucking grab her and kiss her senseless, making him watch as her cute little moans escape her lips and I devour them.

Her son and daughter wouldn’t appreciate that, especially since we have every other parent on these bleachers waiting for something just like that to happen. Embarrassing the crap out of them would be the worst impression I could make.

So, I grabbed Lynn’s hand instead, reveling in the minor victory of sitting beside her while her ex-husband glared a few feet away.

Lynn smiled sweetly at me, still looking adorable, with a hint of worry in her eyes. When her daughter looked down at where our hands were joined, I guessed that was why.

“So, Jessie. Do you play any sports?” I asked, to try to lighten the mood.

She bit her lip and nodded, looking like a younger version of Lynn. She was shy, and not as talkative yet, but she definitely had her mother’s features.

“I do dance,” she whispered.

“Dance? Wow! What kind of dance?”

“Jazz mostly.” She leaned on her mom’s shoulder, but looked less hesitant about me now.

“I took a ballet class once,” I confessed with a sheepish grin.

“You did not,” Lynn huffed, a wide smile spreading on her adorable face.

“Ballet?” Nick scoffed, still stealing glances at my hand locked with Lynn’s. “How masculine.”

I shrugged, feeling unashamed. “My football coach in high school had all his receivers take the class.”

“You know, I heard that somewhere,” Sherry exclaimed. “I read that most NFL players include ballet in their training.”

“I did ballet,” Jessie said enthusiastically. “Mom signed me up for ballet when I was really little, and then I moved to jazz and hip-hop when my friends did.”

“She’s on a competitive team,” Lynn bragged with pride written all over her. “She’s going to Disneyland this summer to perform after a competition in Anaheim. She’s very excited about the trip.”

“Wow. That sounds like fun. I love the dole whip at Disneyland.”

“I do too! Mama and I had a competition to see who could eat it the fastest last time, and we both got terrible brain freezes. Pres ended up taking them away from us, so we never got to see who won.”

“Preston’s a little worry wart,” Lynn laughed. “He found some article later about someone that died from a brain freeze.”

“Nuh uh. That can’t be real.”

“It was real,” Jessie giggled, sounding just like her mom. “Every time we got ice cream, he would bring it up and show us on his phone.”

“What a way to go,” I snorted. “Imagine what it said on their tombstone.”

“Cause of death, ice cream,” Lynn giggled with her daughter, and I laughed just watching them.

“Laughing at something so morbid is twisted,” Nick muttered.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. The girls’ laughter died, and I had the sudden urge to punch the dude in the face. Jessie looked guilty now, and Lynn looked annoyed. She just kissed the top of her daughter’s head.

It grew tense again, thanks to the douche bag, but then the players finished their exercises and Lynn’s son started heading our way. He had a hard expression on his face. I hoped it wasn’t because of me.

“Look, it’s Preston!” Jessie said, getting excited and pointing to the field. She stood up and waved wildly, and his face softened. How could it not? His kid sister was as freaking adorable as their mother. “Pres! Surprise! We came!”

“I see that,” he muttered, sending a pissed-off look towards his dad. I breathed a sigh of relief, glad it wasn’t my presence ticking him off. I felt more pressure to meet this boy again than I did at yesterday’s interview. Preston is obviously his mother’s protector now and takes the role seriously. I want him to know I plan on taking the same role, and being just as serious about it too.

“Like my shirt?” Lynn asked, pointing to it with her free hand.

Preston looked at her other hand joined with mine, then the smallest grin appeared, lifting the corners of his lips before his eyes glanced at his dad, then at me.

“I love it,” he smirked. “Looks great on you, mom.”

~

Arlene

“Your call can not be completed. Please hang up and try again.”

I huffed in frustration, clicking off my phone and throwing it to the couch.

It’s been almost a week. An entire five days have passed since Nick left, and he still hasn’t called to apologize, or even to see how I have been. I thought this was a silly little fight that would pass once he got bored with staying in a hotel, but then I got notified by my doorman when I got home yesterday that Nick had come by with movers to collect the last of his things.

No wonder he wasn’t at work yesterday. I thought it strange at the morning meeting, him not being there, but then Stevens mentioned Nick’s absence being because of his move.

I can't even describe how embarrassing it was to hear that announced so publicly in our place of work. Everyone knew we were living together, and some had even gossiped behind my back about being the reason for his divorce. The office talk was excruciating the entire rest of the day.

I had to cover a meeting for Nick too, with one of his friends at City Hall. Nick was ignoring my calls, so I thought that if I flirted with his friend a bit, he might mention it to Nick and incite a call back. It didn’t though. I felt like a fool afterward, the man not showing any attraction to me whatsoever. Even some random man looking more fit to be in the police station than the city manager’s office wasn’t affected by me at all.

Is the reason that Nick lost interest in me because I no longer hold any attraction to others? I’ve gone to extreme lengths to keep my appearance as it is, spending hours each week with a trainer at the gym, getting massages and treatments, and visiting the salon at least once a week. Has all that been in vain?

I got up and paced around my living room, chewing on my freshly manicured nails, even though my stylist just scolded me for them becoming so brittle and said they were about to break. When I couldn’t take the agonizing silence or my racing thoughts anymore, I picked my phone up to call him one more time.

It connected, but went to voicemail this time. I shrieked in anger, tossing my phone across the living room.

Everything feels like it is falling apart. Nick was, who knows where, refusing to talk to me, and I don’t feel like I could show my face at the office again. Not like this. Did he tell people we broke up? Are we broken up? Is that why the gossip was so bad?

Now, I’m just the home-wrecking whore of a lawyer that is after everyone’s man and ruining lives. I’m no friend to women, or at least that’s what I kept hearing in whispers and muttered conversations all day yesterday. Even my secretary was cold to me.

I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I didn’t seek a married man. He was the one that made it clear he was available to me. Yes, he was married. Yes, I knew. But I also wasn’t the one that tried to take him from his wife. He was already looking to leave.

Why do women get the brunt of the blame in society? I didn’t steal a married man or break his home. He broke that himself. I was just his tool. When a criminal hurts another person with a hammer, you don’t put the hammer on trial. You put the one who used it.

What I hate most out of all of this is that I still want him. Even if I was being used, I enjoyed feeling needed. It made me feel like I was loved.

A tool can never be loved.