Decades

Commitment

Lindsey's walk back to his hotel was a mix of guilt, dread, and trying to justify his actions. He loved Stevie. He did. He always would. But that didn't mean he should have to wait on her forever to decide she actually loved him. How could he trust her? She was lying in his arms at night and calling another man the second she left his bed.

As he made his way to the hotel, he felt this overwhelming sense of grief that he'd ruined things with them. Then he'd shake it off and blame her for ruining things again. He wanted badly to shower. The cloying scent of Kristen's perfume smelled like guilt to him.

He'd shower and go to Stevie's room and demand to know where they stood. If she couldn't choose him today, "I'm going to stop waiting on her," Lindsey lied to himself. He had a maddening thought when he considered barging into Stevie's suite. She might have Edward in her bed right now. Did she fuck him last night? Was it that easy for her? Were they there now?

He imagined how she looked when her hair was tangled from a night of hungry sex with her, how sleepy her eyes looked when she was awakened too early for her taste, and the way her voice sounded especially raspy the morning after he'd spent the night making her moan. Lindsey shook his head hard, trying to erase those images from his mind, but the image of that sexy smile of hers on her well-loved face wouldn't go away. His blood boiled at the idea of another man putting it there.

But how could he be upset with her? At the first sign of trouble, he was in bed with a younger woman. It made him feel disgusted with himself. He was such a cliche. He was a middle-aged man who needed an ego boost, and the fact that some younger blonde was pursuing him felt like just what he needed. And he'd not just slept with her while he was drunk, but again this morning when he was more or less sober.

"But," Lindsey told himself, "we weren't committed." God knows, Stevie had stressed that enough. If she didn't want him all to herself, he had every right to entertain himself with other women. He needed to step off the Stevie cycle anyway if he felt so much more deeply for her than she did for him. However, his actions last night did not align with the way he felt.

He just needed a shower. He felt entirely too overwhelmed by too many thoughts right now. As he walked past her suite on the way to his own, he had the urge to knock. But he felt like Stevie would be able to detect what he'd done. He wasn't ready for that until he'd at least washed the night off of him. "I've done nothing wrong. I don't need to feel guilty," became his mantra. If he told himself that enough times, maybe he'd start to believe it.

—-------------

Stevie had rehearsed what she wanted to say to Lindsey. She'd tried to call him all night without any success. She went to sleep before the sun came up, but just barely. Before she did, she pulled a page from her journal and wrote him a short note.

Linds,

You may want to frame this letter. It's probably the only time you'll hear these words from me. You were right. I was wrong.

I'm ready. Come to me if you still want me,

Stevie.

When she returned to her room and went to bed, she was optimistic. Though their earlier encounter had been ugly, she knew him well enough to know he hadn't meant what he'd said.  He was angry and lashing out because he thought she was involved with someone else. He'd grow up and become much more rational. When he calmed down, he'd come to his senses.

While she hated it when he acted that way, some of his jealousy was justified. He'd been patient with her for months. He always felt like she was two different people, where he was concerned. Stevie was one person when they were horizontal and their clothes were off. Yet she was an altogether different person when they were dressed, and their bodies weren't connecting.