Free Stronger by Misty Provencher Page A

firm always schedules their party two Fridays before Christmas, just like we do.  Don't forget, Lyddle, you've been part of this deal from the start.  If I go down, you're coming with me."  He reaches across the edge of the table and twirls the skinny tip of one of my dreads around his fingertip.  "I wish I'd never gotten you involved in any of this, Lydia, but my only alternative was to divorce.  You know I can't live without you.  I'm not the one being selfish here.  All I've ever wanted to do was give you everything.  If it means a little creative license here and there, well, I guess we've proved that we can both live with that."  
    What can I say?  He's right. I don't have any money without him.  I have no skills to get a job and I can't go back home to be a burden on my mother.  I gave up everything to be with Desmond and that means accepting whatever he can give me, even if it's not him . 
    My buzz mercifully kicks in, from sucking my drinks through the stirrer straws, and I don't want to kill it with this conversation.  Better yet, I'd like Des to go on home to his fake wife so I can get my groove on and find a new face to focus on for the night.  I set down my drink.
    "Alright, I got it.  You can go home now."
    "I think I'll stay for a while.  Claudia's visiting a retreat."
    "Come on, Des.  I know why you're really here," I say with a grin.  He perks an interested eyebrow.  "You don't have to be jealous--he's not coming.  My neighbor really got you nuts, didn't he?"
    "Not at all." He leans back in his chair, arm loosely extended on the table as if he's the king of this domain.  I almost laugh.  I like that he's a little jealous.  It's a nice switch.
    "The only time I see this much of you in one week is when you think there's another man around.  So let me just put you at ease.  Aidan's only my neighbor.  You don't have to scout out my apartment complex anymore.  I'm not fucking him."
    "So crass, Lyddle" he chuckles.  "You think that he's why I'm coming around?"
    He reaches under the table, the tips of his fingers sliding over my leg and then under, to the tender back of my knee.  It melts me more than I'd like to admit, but I manage to croak out a throaty, "Yes."
    His touch is expert and soft, as if his fingers slide up into a more intimate place then just the crook of my knee.  The delicate pressure he applies makes my head spin.  He catches my gaze and his eyelashes flutter like the nimble legs of a seductive spider, enchanting me with their lazy dance.
    His voice is deeper than the bass beat on the dance floor.  "He is not the only reason, Lyddle."

 
    CHAPTER SIX
    WARS AND GAMES
     
     
    My tongue tastes like an old shoe that has spent the night walking through a sewer.  And the rest of me--my arms, my legs, the tips of my hair--is a pitiful collection of limp socks.  I wake, face-down on the pillow like I was trying to smother myself.  With my first breath, I suck my pillowcase into my nostrils.  Jerking up my head sends atomic throbs through my skull and makes me think I should've let myself finish the job with the pillow.  I lay back and try to breathe between the hyper, Richter ripples of my hangover.
    On mornings like this, I have to lie very still until the throbbing ebbs and my memory can kick in again.  But, today, I should've just enjoyed the pain and left it at that.
    Des was here.  I remember draping myself over him so he could drag me down the hall to my apartment.  He felt me up for the door key.  Mrs. Lowt opened her door and shut it again once she saw Des.  She doesn't want anything to do with grabbing his butt.
    I almost threw up in the kitchen sink.  Des told me I was a mess and put me to bed.  He slipped between the sheets shortly after.  I scour my memories for sex and feel around, looking for clues, but I think Des only took off his shoes. 
    One of my nightmares woke me at dusk.  I reached for him and felt the soft fabric of his pants, the tight