Page 36 of Sexting His Son's Ex
Her: “That’s it? There’s no room to talk about this?”
Me: “We have talked about it. You need to understand my position. Who I am and what I do for a living? I’m not a man who talks to people they don’t know. It isn’t safe. Yet, I’m trusting you for some reason, more than some of the men who work for me. They have proven their loyalty time and time again. For all I know, you aren’t who you say you are. Tell me, Ms. Smith. Who are you?”
The bubbles appear, then vanish, then pop up again. For the next few minutes, she types, then stops, then starts again. The irritating voice in the back of my head, the one full of pessimism is shouting that she is trying to come up with a lie.
Her: “Compared to you, I’m nobody special. I’m a simple woman with simple joys. I took a chance to send you flowers because I wanted to do something that was different. I wanted to step out of my comfort zone, and you are way, way, way out of that zone. You’re someone I couldn’t have ever imagined having a conversation with, let alone, laugh or… you know.”
I chuckle when I read that.
Her: “All I can do is tell you that you can trust me. I’m not playing any games. If I’m honest, I’m falling for you, and that scares me. That wasn’t part of my plan. I never thought you’d message me back, so I’ve gone farther than I thought with you than I ever imagined. I understand your hesitance. I want you to take a chance on me. Maybe… take a chance on us?”
Me: “I don’t think I’d know how to move forward in my life if I didn’t.”
I mean that. If I walked away now, I’d be too curious, and I might regret not seeing through a situation I’ve never been in before.
A knock on the door interrupts me. I tuck my phone in my pocket so no one can see who I’m talking to and call the person inside. “Come in.” I sit in my chair, fresh new blueprints to the left of me of a new warehouse I’m going to build right on the border line of the southern territory.
Bianchi will be furious, but if there is one thing I’m going at, it’s being the fuel to the fires others create.
Luca steps into my office, closing door behind him. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days. His hair is a mess, and he has dark circles under his eyes.
“Jovie won’t take me back.” He plops down on the modern black sofa, resting his head on the back to look up at the ceiling. “I tried talking to her, but she isn’t interested in hearing from me. I really fucked up dad. I don’t want to lose her.”
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and it takes all I have to focus on my son when all I want to do is talk to my mystery woman.
I know about him visiting Jovie. She told me when I went to see her. He won’t need to know about that. It’ll set him off.
“And who are all these flowers from?” Luca’s gaze drags across the office, his attention stopping on every bouquet. “Are these from fucking Jovie, Dad?” He leaps to his feet, studying the vase closest to him. “She sells these vases at her shop!” He grabs by the neck and launches it across the room, shattering it against the wall. “Are you fucking her?” He yells, the vein in his forehead protruding with rage.
I stand, buttoning my suit jacket, and walk around the desk, doing my best to keep my temper about me. “No, they aren’t from her. They are from a friend, whom you don’t know.” Not that I know them either. He doesn’t need to know that. “They sent these flowers as a thank you gift.”
His eyes widen, the anger fleeing from his body like a demon who possessed him. “Oh.” Luca looks down at the mess he made. “I’m sorry. I…” He roughly grips the roots of his hair. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m so angry. All the time. From the time I wake up until I close my eyes. I only get peace when I sleep.” He peers at me with watery eyes, pain and confusion in my son’s face has me yank him into a hug.
“It’s okay, Luca. We’ll figure it out.” I’m wondering if Luca needs more help than what I can give him. I’m not sure why he is sofocused on Jovie. He didn’t love her. He isn’t obsessed with her or he wouldn’t have cheated.
I guide him down to sit, my heart hammering in my chest when I stare at the shattered vase on the rug.
Jovie sells those vases.That could mean nothing. Plenty of places sell vases. I must be a masochist with how much I love torturing myself with the thought of her, knowing that my son would disown me.
I’m really winning father of the fucking year.
“Why are you focused on Jovie?” I ask, doing my best to not giveaway how much I love saying her name. I love the way it feels on my tongue, the way her name sounds on my lips.
I don’t want him to focus on Jovie. One, he ruined that opportunity. Two, I want her for myself.
“I don’t know. Maybe I want a chance to prove myself and prove to her that I can be a better man. A good man. Not the one I was previously, which was terrible. I… I don’t know why I cheated on her. I was impatient. I didn’t respect her boundaries or reasons why she wanted to wait. I covered my lies with expensive gifts, and she isn’t that kind of woman.”
That’s good to know.
“But you could take what you know now and apply it to another relationship, one that isn’t tarnished with the issue of trust. Do you think you could marry Jovie? Really think about your future.”
He frowns, his attention cast downward to the soaking wet carpet he will be drying himself. He will clean up the mess he made.
“No.” His shoulders sag as he blows out a breath. “Maybe? Probably not. She’s a good girl. Too good for me, too sweet, and I’m not sure if she’s built for our life.”
If Jovie is who he wants, I’ll have to love her from afar. I can’t interfere.
“Maybe give it some time. Trust is hard to rebuild, especially so early in the relationship. You need to see someone, Luca. About your anger. It isn’t good for you or anyone else. You won’t ever have a successful relationship if you throw and break things. That’s how your partner will be afraid of you. Isn’t that what you want?”
