Free Know Her, Love Her: Daisy & Belmont, Book ONE by Z.L. Arkadie

got you to marry him?”
    “Like I said, he’s very convincing.”
    “So you’re the one who wants the divorce?”
    I finally realize that we’re stopped at a light. The bridge over the river is just up the street. “It’s complicated.”
    “That means it’s none of my business.”
    I snort a chuckle. “Kind of… But he’s the one who left me.”
    “Get the fuck out of here!”  
    “Apparently I make a really bad wife.”
    “Why do you say that?” he asks.
    We walk again.  
    “I was pregnant. Had a baby. Lost her. I didn’t want to have another one.”
    “And he does?”
    “I think so.”
    Dexter nods. “I was married, now divorced. I have two daughters.”
    “What’s the divorce rate again?” I ask.
    “High.”
    We chuckle.  
    “Well, I’m sure there are a host of women who want to pick up where your wife left off,” I say.
    “First of all—likewise. Secondly, I was twenty-four when we got married. I just turned thirty-seven. The next time I do it, there has to be fireworks and shit like that.”
    “It wasn’t like that with your wife?” I’m getting too personal, but he started it.
    He shakes his head. “No, it wasn’t.”
    “Well, I experienced the fireworks.”
    “And yet you’re separated?”
    “Yep. And I still see them whenever he’s near.”
    Dexter grunts thoughtfully. We walk past one of the many tall buildings in my neighborhood.
    “So you stay over here?” he asks.
    “Yep.”
    “Near a park?”
    I tilt my head suspiciously. “Why, what’s wrong with the park?”
    “Have you ever been out in the neighborhood in the daytime or on the weekend?”
    “No, why?”
    “Nothing…”
    “No, there’s something.”
    He shrugs. “You let me know if there’s something.”
      I grin. “Okay.”
    We gallop down a sloping road. Dexter walks me to my front door, which is right off the street, and says he’ll see me in the morning. He adds that he’ll try to avoid calls from Belmont now that he knows where I live. Five minutes with Belmont, and he’d spill the beans. We share a good chuckle before we say good-bye.  
    I go into the kitchen and cook the tuna steak I sliced in half before leaving this morning. I have to hand it Heloise—she knows me better than I thought. I find spinach and onions to sauté, and the Greek feta salad dressing is one-hundred percent organic with nothing on the label that’s hard to pronounce. Unless I’m on the road, I’m a clean eater.  
    I make a tuna burger and a cup of mint tea, and go upstairs to work. However, I sit at the desk unable to lose my yearning for my husband. He’s been screwing another woman, and my soul just knows he’s done it more than once. Regardless, I want him to ravish me. I run my fingers through my hair, messing it up, as I try to stave off the anxiety. I get up and take long steps to my bedroom. I stand in front of my cell phone, which is sitting on top of the dresser. After a deep breath, I pick it up and dial him. It rings once.
    “Hey,” Belmont answers.
    “Hey.”
    “How are you?”  
    “Fine.”
    It’s silent.
    “Where are you?” he asks.
    “Where are you?”
    “I’m just walking into the hotel. I was at a bar. I got your message.”
    I squeeze my eyes, regretting what I said in that message. “Oh, sorry about that. I totally jumbled it up.”
    “You’re in Chicago, right?”
    “Um-hum.”
    “You want some company?”
    I release the breath I’ve been holding. “Um-hum.”
    “What’s your address?”
    I give it to him, wolf down the rest of my tuna burger, and brush my teeth before jumping in the shower. Belmont likes my honeysuckle-scented lotion, so I put it on. I don’t want to look as though I’m in it for the sex tonight, so I put on an oversized T-shirt and leg warmers. Belmont knows the outfit as my work-in-the-home-office clothes, and this look usually drives him insane with lust. I fluff out my hair, the way he loves it. I smooth on a little matte dusty-rose lipstick.