Love Far Away: 2 Read online

  Love Far Away II

  by

  Leslie Cooper

  Copyright © 2015 by Leslie Cooper

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Love Far Away II

  All rights reserved.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. No part of this work may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording and faxing, or by any information storage and retrieval system by anyone but the purchaser for their own personal use.

  This book may not be reproduced in any form without the express written permission of Leslie Cooper, except in the case of a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages for the sake of a review written for inclusions in a magazine, newspaper, or journal—and these cases require written approval from Leslie Cooper prior to publication. Any reproduction or other unauthorized use of the material or artwork herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author.

  Chapter One

  I felt like I was going to die.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a hangover this bad. The morning after prom? Maybe after that one crazy night in college with all the tequila shots? I’d still had my youthful vitality to help bounce back after a night of drinking. A hangover the other side of thirty was a different thing completely. My mouth felt stuffed full of cotton, my legs shook when I swung them over the side of the bed, my stomach was churning, and the drums inside my head were so loud I couldn’t think.

  Sitting up was too much effort. I collapsed back down on to my pillow and felt around on the floor for the bottle of water I was sure was down there. With shaking hands, I unscrewed the lid to the water bottle and chugged half the liquid down. Then I pulled the covers over my head. The curtains were drawn, but sunlight peeked around the edges. It was too early for that.

  At least the bed I was lying in was soft and comfortable. I slid my hand under my pillow and found my phone. I checked the time- it was a quarter after twelve.

  How much had I drank last night? There had been a couple bottles of wine at dinner. Then we’d gone dancing and I’d had a couple fruity drinks. And shots. I remembered at least one or two rounds of shots. Then- oh, god, it started coming back to me. We’d met some girls at the club and they had invited us to a party in their suite. More drinks had flowed there, naturally. And I’d snuck away and had stolen a few bottles of wine from the bar.

  And- Matthew.

  It hit me like a ton of bricks. What had I done? I was married. Maybe our wedding vows hadn’t met anything to Bradley, my husband back home in Ohio, but they meant something to me. We had a home together. We had a family together. We had two beautiful children, seven year old Henry and four year old Olivia. We had a life. And a few short weeks ago, my husband of eight years had thrown it all away when he told me he was in love with someone else and wanted a divorce.

  Bradley Sutton was the only man I’d ever known, up until last night. His were the only arms that had ever held me and his were the only lips that had ever kissed mine. Not just eight years of marriage, but fourteen years together. We’d been in love with each other since high school. And he’d told me he wanted someone else now. So after much crying and soul searching and realizing that maybe the man I’d married wasn’t as amazing as I’d thought he was, I’d finally agreed to a girls’ trip with my three best friends. Megan, Ashley, and Becca had convinced me that two weeks away would be good for my soul...and the fact that I’d taken Bradley’s backup credit card to finance the whole thing wasn’t going to hurt either. We’d arrived just a couple of days ago, and spent yesterday adjusting to the new time zone and doing some shopping before we’d gone out for a fancy dinner and checked out the clubs. Then we’d been invited up to that party, and then...

  I didn’t want to remember what came next. I rolled over and pulled the pillow over my head and thought that maybe, if I squeezed my eyes shut hard enough, I could erase the last twelve hours.

  “Julia? You awake?”

  My best friend, Megan, in the bed next to me sounded similarly afflicted. Her voice sounded raspy and cracked. I pulled my head out from under my pillow. “I want to go back to sleep,” I said.

  “Ugh, I know. What time did we even get home last night? I mean, this morning. Five, six AM? I can’t believe how much I drank. I’m not twenty one anymore. Ugh, I feel terrible.”

  I snuck a look at her so I could get an idea of how I looked. Slept-in eyeliner isn’t an attractive look on anybody, and Megan was no exception. “I don’t even want to look in the mirror,” I said. “Do you want to shower first, or should I?”

  “You shower first,” she said. “Then we’ll talk about last night.”

  “What- what do you mean?” I stuttered.

  “You know. Last night.” She looked at me meaningfully.

  I mumbled something in reply and stumbled towards the bathroom as fast as I could. Had I told her? Did she know? I’d been hoping I could live with the secret shame of a one night stand as long as possible, but if I’d told Megan- had I? I couldn’t recall specifics, but I remembered him.

  It came back to me in the shower.

  We’d ended up in the shower- I couldn’t quite remember how, but I remembered ended up hanging out alone in the bedroom with Matthew, then stealing a bottle of wine from the bar and then some kind of truth or dare game, maybe, and we’d ended up kissing. And we’d made our way to the shower. As I stood under the hot spray, bits and pieces of it came back to me- the cold tile against my back, the water hitting my breasts, grabbing on to a shelf for balance while I hooked one leg over his shoulder. The release I’d felt as he’d done things Bradley didn’t know how to do- oh! Yes. I definitely remembered that much.

  Once I was out of the shower, I braved a peek in the mirror. My eyes looked dull, but at least any caked on makeup had been washed off. I put on one of the complimentary robes that came with our hotel room and blow dried my hair before giving Megan a turn in the bathroom and calling room service to bring me a strong cup of coffee. When it arrived, I took it out to the small balcony that connected our room to the one Ashley and Becca shared and sat down to look out over the rooftops of Paris, and think about what I’d done.

  Was it cheating? We were still married, weren’t we? Nothing had been filed. Bradley was still my husband and I was still his wife. And yet-

  The other balcony door opened and Ashley stuck her head out, looking just slightly worse for the wear. “Hey,” she said. “What a night! How are you doing this morning?”

  Had I told her what I’d done? I couldn’t remember. Panicked, I looked at her face and tried to read her expression. Did she know? “Um,” I said. “I- I don’t know.”

  Ashley gave me a funny look and collapsed in to the other chair with her own cup of coffee. “What do you mean, you don’t know? I feel like shit and I’m used to going out and staying out late once or twice a week. But ugh, I don’t even know how much I drank last night. And getting home after the sun comes up is crazy even for me. You must feel even worse than I do.”

  “Oh, that,” I said. “Yeah, I feel terrible. I just want to curl up and go back to bed.”

  Ashley looked at me closely. “Are you okay, Jules? You don’t look very good.”

  “Thanks, Ash,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve drank that much since Spring Break sophomore year of college, which was over ten years ago, and I apparently have the body of an old lady now. Thanks.”

  “No, I don’t mean that
, although you do look terrible. But I’m sure I do too,” she added hastily. “No, I mean you look- like you’re going to cry or something. Did something happen?”

  I shook my head.

  “No? Where’d you go last night, by the way? That party was crazy, wasn’t it? I didn’t know what I’d think but I had a great time. Something different, right? Where’d you slip off to?”

  “Just the other room,” I mumbled. “Took a bottle of wine with me and hung out there for a bit.”

  “You didn’t get bored?”

  “No.” I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her.

  “Huh. Okay.” Ashley leaned back in her chair and pulled out a cigarette from her pocket. She’d adopted a new smoking habit just because she thought it was something she should do in Paris. She offered me one, but I shook my head. I pulled my knees up to my chest, sipped my coffee, and stared straight ahead.

  Becca wandered out on to the balcony a few minutes later, dragging a chair over to sit with her own cup of coffee, and Megan came out fresh from the shower shortly after. We ordered up breakfast from room service and sat out on the balcony, enjoying the midday sun while we rehashed the night and complained about our hangovers. I almost forgot about my secret tryst, until Megan turned to me.

  “So, Jules, are you going to tell the girls what you got up to last night?”

  I felt myself blush hotly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  “Come on! Before we left you came up to me and your hair was all wet. You said you’d done something stupid, that you’d made a huge mistake. You wouldn’t tell me. What happened?”

  Ashley, who had been leaning back in her chair, sat up straight and pointed her cigarette at me. “I knew it! I knew you did something naughty. Tell me. Which one?”

  I coughed and waved the smoke away. “Get that out of my face, Ash.”

  “Oh, sorry.” She stubbed her cigarette out. “Which one? Hottie with the blue eyes?”

  “What? No!” The party we’d been invited to had turned out, to our surprise, to be a party where naked men danced, served us drinks, took part in anatomy-related contests, and generally did anything the clothed women asked them to. I was beyond embarrassed that Ashley was assuming I’d disappeared to hook up with one of those men. “No way. Did you notice any of the guys go missing for a long time?”

  “She’s right,” said Becca. “Nobody else left- at least, none of the guys did. Where’d you go?”

  “I was in the other room,” I said. “That suite was amazing, by the way. I thought this place was fancy but the bathroom was practically the size of my living room at home.”

  “Nobody cares,” said Ashley impatiently. “Tell us. Who. Was. He?”

  I sighed and looked down at my hands. “He was just a guy. He was out with some friends- all women- and they were invited to this party, and he showed up with them because he didn’t know that all of the men were supposed to be naked if they wanted to attend. He didn’t want to strip, so he was just hanging out in the bedroom waiting until they were done. I just started talking to him when I went to the bathroom. I snuck out and stole us some wine from the bar. We started drinking, and...”

  My friends waited. I choked on the words.

  “And what?” asked Megan.

  “And...well...I cheated on Bradley,” I burst out.

  “Oh. No. Honey,” Ashley waved her finger at me, “when your husband of eight years tells you he’s not in love with out anymore because he wants to boink Nikki in human resources or wherever she works, and he asks you for a divorce, it is not cheating if you have a late night rendezvous with a sexy stranger.”

  “I know that. I mean, I know that- but what if we had a chance? What if I flew back home tonight and he came and picked me up and asked for another chance, and wanted to try counseling? I couldn’t go back to him knowing that I cheated on him.”

  “Well, even if that did happen you wouldn’t have to tell him,” Megan pointed out. “What happens in Paris stays in Paris.”

  “But I would know,” I said. “I wouldn’t be able to get past it, I don’t think. I couldn’t do it. I mean, I was with another man! I promised to love my husband and be faithful to him, and I’m not ready to just give it up. I want to fight for my marriage. I’m not going to throw fourteen years away because I had a moment of weakness.”

  “Maybe you’re not ready to do that,” said Becca, “but it takes two people to make a marriage, doesn’t it? It’s no use if you’re the only one fighting for it. You’re fighting for nothing if he’s not there fighting with you. Well, not fighting with you, but alongside you. If he’s given up and doesn’t want the marriage anymore, what are you even fighting for? You know what I mean?”

  I was quiet for a moment and thought about what Becca was saying. It hurt to admit, but she was right in a way. There had to be two people in a marriage. And Bradley had told me right to my face that he didn’t want to stay married to me anymore. That he was in love with Nikki from work. He’d sworn that it hadn’t gotten physical, but I wasn’t sure if I believed him or not, and even if it hadn’t the fact just made me feel even worse. Then I would be the only one who had gone back on my marriage vows to stay faithful. I buried my face in my hands.

  “Oh, honey.” Megan reached over and gave me a hug. “Don’t beat yourself up. You didn’t do anything wrong. Your husband told you he wanted a divorce. I know how seriously you take your wedding vows, and you didn’t break them- he did. He did it when he asked for a divorce, when he said he’d met someone else. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  I looked up and saw Becca and Ashley nodding in agreement. “Screw Bradley,” said Ashley. “Look, let’s just all get dressed, and we’ll go out and have a great day of sightseeing like we planned yesterday. Forget about the guy last night. Well, don’t forget, wink wink, but you know what I mean. Don’t think about it right now. Becca, pull out your guidebook and figure out what museums or whatever you want to go to.”

  I let my friends’ chatter wash over me as Becca pulled out her guidebook and started talking about some museum she wanted to visit. I tried to follow Ashley’s advice and just get dressed and go out and have a good time, but it was always in the back of my mind. Paris was supposed to be the city of dreams for me, but right now I felt like I was caught in the middle of a nightmare.

  Chapter Two

  We spent the afternoon walking around a military museum and looking at Napoleon’s tomb under Becca’s guidance, before going back to the hotel to change for dinner. The concierge at the hotel recommended a small bistro tucked down a narrow lane just a few minutes’ walk away, and after last night we were all up for a quieter night so we took the recommendation. A good meal and a good night’s sleep made all the difference in the world and I woke up the next morning feeling refreshed.

  Becca was still begging us all to go visit the Louvre, so after croissants and coffee on the balcony we put on our walking shoes. We got there early and spent the whole morning wandering through the museum, marveling at the works of art, crammed ourselves in to the huge hall where the Mona Lisa was kept behind bulletproof glass. It should have been a wonderful day, but I just couldn’t muster up the same excitement for exploring the city as my friends had. When we were done, we found a little cafe to sit in and enjoy a late lunch.

  “So after lunch, I think we should go to Notre Dame and have a nice walk down the Seine. Maybe go to the Centre Pompidou or Luxembourg Gardens,” said Becca, studying the map of Paris that she’d spread out on our table.

  “I want to go shopping again,” said Ashley.

  “I want to find a pastry shop,” said Megan.

  They both looked at me expectantly. “Jules? What do you want to do next?” asked Ashley.

  I sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “Come to Notre Dame with me,” said Becca.

  “Sure.” I took a sip of my café au lait.

  Megan put down her coffee. “Okay, Jules, what’s up? You’ve been subd
ued all day. This was supposed to be a fun girls’ trip. You’re not having fun. What gives?”

  “No, I am having fun,” I protested. “I liked the Louvre. I’m down with Notre Dame after lunch, or pastries, or shopping, or whatever you guys want to do.”

  “Megan’s right,” said Ashley. “What’s wrong with you today? You’re not still upset about that thing from the other night, are you? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “I know that. It’s just-“I sighed, and tried to form my jumbled up thoughts in to coherent sentences. “It’s just, I had this image of what it would be like here, and it’s not. I mean, the city is beautiful, but I’m having a hard time enjoying it. When we were hanging out- before ‘it’ happened- he, Matthew, was telling me about all the exhibits to be sure I checked out at the Louvre, and other places I should visit, and I keep looking over my shoulder expecting to see him walking down the street. I don’t even know what I would say if I saw him. I think I’d be too embarrassed to say anything. But what if he said something to me? I don’t know...”

  “Oh, honey, you’re overthinking this,” said Ashley. “If you see this guy, which you won’t because there are how many million people in Paris? You just smile, say hi, and move on.”

  “I don’t think that’s the point, Ashley,” said Becca. “The point is that Julia isn’t having a good time. And isn’t that what we came here to do?”

  “So what, you want to go back to Ohio?” Ashley, who was the only one of us drinking wine at lunch.

  “No,” I said quickly. “No, I like spending time with you guys! Just, maybe a change of scenery. Maybe we travel to a different city.”

  “Like where?” asked Megan.

  Becca whipped out her map of Paris and flipped it over to the other side, which was a map of France. “Hmm,” she said, examining it. “Hey- let’s go to the south of France! Ooh la la.”

  Ashley leaned over to get a look. “Ooh la la is right,” she said. “Monte Carlo! If we’re going to leave Paris, we have to go there.”