I didn’t do anything to Brandon but stood there, letting him kiss me, exploring my body. He fumbled with my bra clasp and for some reason that really stood out to me. It was nice to know that he wasn’t some completely suave lover and seemed more inexperienced from his trembling fingers. There was a knock on the door and I remained standing there while Brandon mumbled. “Why don’t you go to the bedroom and get more comfortable? I’ll get rid of whoever is at the door and be right in.”
With that, Brandon walked toward the door and I made my way to the bedroom. My inner voice was starting to win over and I was beginning to realize just what a damaging idea a physical reunion with Brandon would be in the end. I stood there and then I heard a loud voice coming from the door. I knew whose voice that was too.
I walked out and saw Marshall bolting past Brandon. He stopped and froze in his tracks when he saw me…just like I’d done when I saw him with her yesterday.
“What are you doing dressed like that?” Marshall spat. He turned to look at Brandon and paused a moment. I looked at Brandon and saw a flicker of recognition come over his face.
Brandon looked back to Marshall and began to extend his hand, as if he was going to introduce himself and Marshall shoved him forcefully out of the way and charged over toward me.
I couldn’t move, not even caring that I was only in my bra and panties, with my clasp undone too. The sight of two men being so riled up about me considering they’d both rejected me was absolutely ridiculous. I didn’t get it.
“Becca, are you going to give in to someone that hurt you so much that easily?”
“I don’t think that it’s any of your business.”
“Go into your room now and I’ll be right there,” Marshall ordered. I don’t know why I listened, but I did. Suddenly I was feeling crimson and my face was starting to match the rosy shade of my panties and bra.
From the bedroom I heard Marshall say, “Take your coat and get the hell out of here—and stay away from Becca!”
The door slammed and Marshall was back in the bedroom. I had hooked the clasp on my bra again and was sitting on the edge of the bed, not really sure what to do. My bathrobe was still out in the living room.
“Becca, I’m going to try and be patient here, although I don’t understand what you were possibly thinking. You leave the studio without saying goodbye, don’t answer my calls, and won’t answer your door. Then I come over and see that you are with him…that Brandon…the one that devastated you. Is your self-confidence really that low?”
“Why would you care, Marshall? Do you think that my self-confidence will be soaring when I have to stand there and watch you and your little friend fucking away so merrily and enjoying the shock I get from it? Is that what good self-esteem leads to? Because if it is I think I’ll keep my lower self-confidence and respect. You have no right to lecture or be mad at me. I was your flavor of the week and you’ve moved on.”
Marshall’s eyes softened and he sat down on the bed next to me. “I’m sorry if that’s what you saw. It wasn’t exactly what happened. Jennifer and I…we have been physical for a while, and well, she thought it was still going on so she barged into my house, surprising me, and well… she started undressing me, but I didn’t want to have sex with her any longer. Then you were there, and I know what you saw…but it didn’t happen that way. I am very protective of you and like I’d told you, you’re a great friend.”
“About that. I’m not so sure we can be friends anymore, Marshall. It’s clearly too hard for me. Maybe someday, but not today.”
“That’s really what you want?”
“Maybe not what I want, but it is what I need,” I said. My hands were trembling from saying those words aloud. It made me realize that I really did love Marshall and that although it was a one way street I would have to go through a recovery time from our relationship, just like I’d had to do with Brandon.
“I respect your wishes and want the best for you,” Marshall said. He leaned in and hugged me and added, “I’ll be leaving now.”
I nodded, not able to say another word. Marshall got up and walked out of the apartment. When I heard the door close the tears began to flow once again. Apparently my well wasn’t quite dry yet.
Chapter 23
I sat down on my couch, trying to process what had just happened. I was thankful that I hadn’t ended up sleeping with Brandon. That would have been a very regrettable mistake and likely opened me up to being his occasional booty call. Plus, what future was there when he didn’t even live in the same area anymore. I had no plans of leaving my father’s firm and relocating.
Now I was all alone, once again, and didn’t really know what to do. I had lost any incentive to watch a movie and in a way I felt like I’d just lived out a movie scene myself. It made sense. Marshall had a flair for the dramatic and was a heck of an actor before becoming a heck of a billionaire movie mogul.
I got up and got the ice cream, justifying that it’d help me think better and clear my thoughts. I opened the cover and looked at the tasty ice cream, which had long been my favorite indulgence. I slowly put my spoon into it and took a scoop. As I put the spoon in my mouth and enjoyed its creamy goodness I wished that all relationships were as simple as the one I had with my ice cream. It never disappointed me—ever!
As the second spoonful was about to enter my lips there was another knock at my door. I sighed, getting up to see who it was. I looked through my peep hole and saw no one there. Yet, there was still a knock on the door. I slowly opened the door, keeping my safety latch in place and a single red rose presented itself through the small opening.
“Who is it?”
“Promise you won’t shut the door on me?” the voice asked.
I smiled. It was Marshall. “I won’t slam the door on you. What do you want?”
“Can I please come in?”
I shrugged my shoulders. Why not let him in. Nothing else could possibly get crazier than it had been this past week. I opened the door and he came in, smiling at me sweetly and handing me a few dozen roses to go with the one that he’d slid through the door.
“They’re beautiful, but you didn’t need to do that,” I commented.
“I didn’t need to, but I wanted to. I really need to talk to you, Becca, and I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to get out what I have to say. Trust me, it isn’t easy for me, but I want to do my best to say what’s on my mind. Will you allow me?”