Chapter 6 Is It Still Him, Sarah?
At work the next day, Sarah was trying to focus on a floor plan for a high-end penthouse, but the lines on the paper kept blurring into the shape of a man’s shoulders.
Stacy walked in, setting a fresh cup of coffee on the desk. She took one look at Sarah’s haggard expression and closed the door.
"You look like you haven't slept in a week," Stacy said softly. "Is it still him?"
Sarah leaned back, rubbing her temples. "He was at the house yesterday, Stacy. Sitting on my couch. Eating pizza with Mark. He sent me a text while they were sitting right next to each other."
Stacy pulled up a chair. "Sarah... this is getting dangerous. You’ve got to cut the cord."
"I know!" Sarah’s voice broke.
"I tell myself that every hour. But Stacy, when I saw him... I didn't feel disgusted. I felt... I felt like I was losing my mind. I’ve never felt so strongly for a man. Not even Joseph, not even when we were young."
"It’s the thrill," Stacy countered. "It’s the fact that he makes you feel seen after two years of being a ghost. It’s a chemical reaction, not a life choice."
"Maybe," Sarah whispered. "But he looks at me like I’m the only woman in the world. He doesn't see a 'mom' or a 'divorcee.' He sees... he sees me. And it makes me want to do things I never thought I was capable of."
Stacy sighed, her face full of concern.
"You can’t stop him from being Mark’s friend. If you try to ban him, Mark will ask questions. You just have to control yourself. You have to be the wall he can't climb."
"I’m trying," Sarah said, though they both knew it was a lie. "And now Joseph is calling. He says there's something 'important' he needs to know. He’s insisting on a meeting tonight."
Stacy’s posture straightened.
"Joseph? After a year of divorce? Sarah, be careful. Men like Joseph don't just pop up to check in. They pop up when they want leverage."
"What leverage could he have?" Sarah asked, her voice trembling.
"I don't know," Stacy said.
"But stay sharp. Don't let him get under your skin. You’ve got enough fires to put out as it is."
_____
The bistro was dimly lit and smelled of expensive wine and old wood. Sarah sat in a corner booth, her back to the wall. When Joseph walked in, she realized how much he had aged—or perhaps it was just that she was finally seeing him without the fog of marriage. He looked tired, his suit slightly wrinkled.
"Sarah," he said, sliding into the seat opposite her.
"Joseph. What is so urgent?" She didn't offer a handshake or a smile. She kept her hands folded on the table.
"Straight to the point, as always," he said with a dry chuckle. He ordered a scotch and waited until the waiter left before leaning in.
"I’ve been hearing things, Sarah."
Sarah felt the blood drain from her face.
"Things?"
"About the business. About your finances." Joseph watched her closely.
"I heard Sarah’s Interior Decor took a hit after that hotel project fell through. I also heard you might be looking for an investor to stay afloat."
Sarah let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. It was about work. Just work.
"The business is fine, Joseph. We had a setback, but we’re recovering. Is that why you called me here? To talk about my balance sheets?"
"I still care about Mark's inheritance," Joseph said smoothly. "And I still care about you, in my own way. I wanted to offer you a deal. I have some capital. I could buy into the firm. It would keep things stable."
"Absolutely not," Sarah said, her voice turning to ice.
"I spent a year fighting to get you out of my life and my business. I’m not letting you back in because of a rumor."
"It's not a rumor, Sarah. You're struggling. And I’m curious... what else are you struggling with?" He eyes narrowed.
"You seem jumpy and distracted. Like you’re hiding something."
"I'm tired, Joseph. Because my ex-husband is harassing me at six o'clock on a Tuesday."
Joseph reached across the table, trying to cover her hand with his. Sarah flinched away, pulling her hand back as if he were a leper.
"Don't," she snapped.
"You used to like my touch," Joseph said, his voice dropping an octave.
"Who’s touching you now, Sarah? Or have you just given up on that part of your life? You always were a bit... repressed."
The word repressed stung like a whip. Sarah thought of Alex’s hands, his mouth, the way he had commanded her body to wake up. She thought of the "pleasure girl" text. A wild, reckless urge to laugh almost took her over.
"My personal life is none of your business," Sarah said, standing up.
"The business is fine. Mark is fine. We don't need your money, and we certainly don't need you. We’re done here."
"I’m not so sure," Joseph said, remaining seated. He looked up at her with a chillingly calm expression.
"I saw Mark’s social media the other day. He’s spending a lot of time with that friend of his. The tall one. Alex, right? He’s always at the house when I call Mark."
Sarah’s heart stopped.
"They’re friends, Joseph. That’s what friends do."
"He's a young guy," Joseph mused, swirling his drink.
"A bit too old to be hanging around a suburban house every night, don't you think? Unless there's something else keeping him there."
Sarah felt the walls closing in. Did Joseph suspect? Or was he just throwing darts in the dark?
"Goodnight, Joseph," she said, her voice cold and final.
She walked out of the bistro, her legs feeling like lead. The cool night air hit her, but it didn't help. She felt hunted. Joseph was circling her from one side, and Alex was consuming her from the other.
She got into her car and sat in the dark for a long time. She felt a familiar buzz in her pocket. She didn't even have to look to know who it was.
Alex: "Your ex looks like he’s lived a boring life. Come home, Sarah. I’m going to make you a meal and massage your feet tonight. I want to show you exactly how 'unrepressed' you really are."
Sarah gasped, looking around the parking lot. Alex was watching her.
He had followed her and she should have freaked out.
But as she started the engine, the only thing she felt was a desperate, hungry need to get home.