The Trophy Wife by Evie Baxter

Nineteen

Damn she looked gorgeous!

She had on a touch of makeup but nothing like she had been wearing when I first met her. A light hand had been used and her lips were glossed a delicate shade of pink. Her hair was down, framing her beautiful face. The look was soft and feminine.

She was wearing a blue top that sparkled with the gold thread that adorned it, and a pair of trousers that somehow made her legs look even longer than they were. I could see sparkly sandals peeking out below the hem of the trousers, pink varnish adorning her toenails.

I wanted to scoop her up and hug the shit out of her. And I knew that I couldn’t. I had risen from our reserved table when she had entered the restaurant and gone to the front to meet her but avoided any physical contact. She was pale beneath her makeup and her eyes were huge.

She looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Frozen stiff and terrified. Of me. It was like a dagger to my heart to know that this woman struggled to even meet me for a meal.

I held her chair out for her to sit and the silky strands of her hair brushed my hand as I pushed the chair forward. I ached to wrap my hand around those strands, pull them gently to one side to bare her neck to me and drop my lips to her skin.

The subtle scent of her perfume consumed me. The delicate floral notes with a slight musky undertone were beguiling. I paused briefly, breathing her in, before I moved around to my seat, fully aware that if I lingered a moment longer behind her it would come across as creepy as fuck. She was nervous enough around me, without me putting her off more.

I watched as Tori fiddled with her cutlery, twisted the corner of her napkin into a knot, and generally avoided eye contact with me. I momentarily wondered if wooing her was worth all this work, and causing her too much angst, but then I remembered the way she was in bed with me. That moment out of time when she seemed to let her fears go and embrace the chemistry between us. I couldn’t go my life without experiencing that again, and again.

There was a rare connection between the two of us that was worth fighting for. I would delve deep to find all the patience I possessed to persevere with this woman. I was certain she was worth the effort.

We perused the menu, and after we both agreed we couldn’t narrow down our choices enough, we agreed to order a selection of dishes and share so we could enjoy as many different flavours as possible. Neither of us ordered an alcoholic beverage as we were both driving, and once the waiter departed our table we were left in an awkward silence.

“So…” we both spoke at once.

I indicated to Tori that she continue.

“Um, I was just going to say thank you.”

“For what?” I asked, slightly perplexed.

“For being patient with me.” I went to speak but she shook her head at me. “Please, let me say this now or I won’t be brave enough to do it at all. I went to see my counsellor this week, because of that panic attack I had. She thinks I’m strong enough to try dating now. She has more confidence in me than I do. Only, you’ve seen what I’m like, a total basket case, but you are still trying with me. So thank you. I’m sorry I’m so difficult.”

“You’re not difficult, Tori,” I said softly. “You’re rightfully wary of men. I get that. Honestly, I do. I can’t fathom what you’ve been through, but I understand enough to know you are justified in your fear of men. I’ll give you whatever time you need to prove that you can trust me.”

“I might not ever get to that point. Can you live with that? Are you willing to come to see me again knowing that this may be all you ever get of me?”

I smiled. She underestimated herself. “Yeah, I think you’re worth the effort. I also think you sell yourself short. You’re far stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Tori nibbled her lower lip as she took in my words. “That’s what Sally said too, sort of.”

“Sally?”

“My counsellor. I used to see her every week. Back when I was afraid to leave the house. You have to understand, that’s how bad it was for a long time. Anyway, Sally said that I had to look at how far I had come and what I had accomplished rather than beating myself up over what I felt like I still couldn’t do.”

“She’s right. You don’t have to tell me, no pressure at all, but are you able to tell me anything about your marriage. Just so I understand what happened? How Robert convinced you to marry him and stay when it is obvious he abused you?”

Tori took a deep breath, went to speak but stopped when the waiter placed our drinks in front of us. Only when he left did she attempt to speak again.

“Okay. I’ll try to tell you some of it, but if I start to react, you know – cry or have a panic attack,” She shook her head, willing herself not to contemplate what telling me some of her past might do to her. “I don’t talk about it. I try not to think about it.”

“Then don’t tell me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” I wanted to take her hand. I could see it was shaking but had no idea what I could do to help her without crossing boundaries she wasn’t ready to allow me to cross yet.

She took another deep breath. Then a second. “No. I need to tell you. If you’re going to persist in trying to date me then you need to know.”

I gave her a soft smile. The way she made dating her sound like an ordeal was sweet. She had no idea about her appeal to me.