Sadie (18+)

Chapter 40

It was five-in-the-morning when I came to my senses. I picked myself up off the bathroom floor and leaned against the counter, staring at the disheveled girl through the mirror. I must have nodded in and out, for I was uncomfortably groggy. I splashed cold water on my face before slinking back into the room.

The space was still dark and casted in shadows, the morning sun having yet to make an appearance through the thick curtains. Vincent briefly stirred when I slipped back into bed and sunk into the mattress, nestled against the soft sheets.

I could feel the heat radiating from the shirtless man; I tucked myself against his stomach and breathed him in, drifting peacefully. His arm tightened around me, and whether it was intentional or not, I embraced it as I sailed away into a dream.

We woke to a shrilling alarm from Vincent's phone in what felt like minutes, however we had clearly slept for some time; the sunlight now seeped through the crack in the curtains, glimmering across the rug.

I pulled the covers up and over my head, sighing grumpily. "Is there a reason we need to be up this early?"

"It's eleven, sleepyhead. Certainly not early," he said, yanking the covers from my face. I squeezed my eyes shut, reluctant to welcome the day, though Vincent sounded rather chipper.

When I peeked over at him, though, his disposition faltered. He was looking at a missed call from his wife, his finger hovering over the notification. He turned to look at me, perhaps weighing the two choices, deciding what was worth his attention at the moment. He tossed his phone to the side.

"Don't you want to fix things?" I asked, sitting up and bunching my hair over my shoulder. "If you're not calling her back because of me, that's silly. I can leave the room if you'd like."

He palmed his eyelids, sighing deeply. "It's not that. Truthfully, I like the idea of getting everything out of my system, our system, for the weekend. I would prefer to do that without her."

I swallowed, nauseous at the mention of our inevitable end which creeped closer and closer. "Sure, okay."

"And I was hoping you would like to spend it with me," he said, scratching the back of his head, "this weekend, I mean."

"Doing what?" I asked curiously, sliding off the bed and grabbing a bath towel.

"I wouldn't mind your company at the zoo today. There's a small one not far from here—I haven't been in years. They've added red pandas, and I think the Amur leopard."

I bit back a laugh. Out of all things to do with a mistress, Vincent chose the zoo.

"Is something funny?" he asked, approaching me—shirtless, with his sweats hanging dangerously low, exposing the sharp pelvic bones.

My heart immediately went haywire. I clutched onto the bath towel, mumbling, "Just realized how nerdy you are. It doesn't really match."

He moved in closer, cocking a brow. "Match what?"

"Your..." I trailed off, provocatively raking my eyes up and down his figure, "looks."

I wondered how he kept up such a physique. I knew he liked to garden—he grew vegetables in the summers, and even mulches the flower beds instead of hiring somebody. It wasn't like they couldn't afford it. It was tiring work, but enough to sculpt such a defined body?

I still remember, at fourteen, seeing him come inside one spring afternoon with hands caked in dirt, face shiny with sweat. Of course, at the time, he was nothing but Julia's father to me. Gina had yelled at him to take a shower, and he'd chased her around the house, filthy hands raised. Her playful screeches and boisterous laughter still echoed in my mind.