Chapter 37

That bastard got me horny as hell and then hung up the phone on me!

Leave my husband and be with him? Like everything is that easy!

What an absolute asshole. Why in the world did I even think to call him? I should have known that he would behave this way, and that – Wait.

Glancing at myself in the rear view mirror, I frown. Yes, I’m full of pent-up horniness, but I also feel… better. Before I called Miles, I had been an absolute mess. Garnar had said such horrible things to me and really sent me over the edge.

But now… other than filled with frustration, I feel okay. Did Miles do that on purpose?

He actually helped me.

Like this, I feel comfortable starting the ignition again and driving the rest of the way to Cynthia’s. By the time I pull in to the driveway and enter the house, I’m practically normal again.

I’ll need to masturbate tonight, sure. But other than that, everything’s normal. And honestly, that’s not all that unusual since having met Miles. He seems to have sent my libido into high gear.

“Esther, that you? Come have a glass of wine with me,” Cynthia calls from the kitchen.

Following her voice, I walk into the kitchen and sit on one of the stools at the kitchen island. Cynthia pours me half a glass of chardonnay. I indicate she should fill it more. She does, though she lifts a brow at me at the same time.

“Long day,” I explain.

“The event not go well?”

I retrieve the crumpled up job offer letter from my purse and then slide it across the island to her. After popping the cork in the wine bottle and returning it to the fridge, she picks up her glass of wine and the letter and joins me on the stool beside mine.

“What’s this?” she asks as she opens the letter. “And what happened to it?” She skims it, and her eyes go comically wide. “Esther, what is this?”

“I got a new job,” I say.

“I guess you did!”

For the next hour, I recount most of the events of the day, from my competition with those drunk guests and then with Hugo, and the culmination of both events. She’s happily surprised when she hears Miles came to my rescue, but instantly disappointed with me for having sent him away.

When I get to the part involving Garnar, she can’t hold her tongue anymore.

“That absolute ass! Who does he think he is, saying all those things about you? Especially when he’s the one with the side piece!” She watches my reaction as she speaks. Her eyes slowly narrow. “How are you so calm?”

“I called Miles on the way back here,” I say without any preamble.

“What?” Her eyes practically bug out of her head.

I gloss over that story, not wanting to share the more sordid details. “He helped me feel better.”

“Guess you don’t actually want him out of your life, after all.” Smirking, Cynthia sips her wine.

I want to argue, but I can’t. “A relationship between Miles and me isn’t good for either of us.”

Cynthia snorts. “Don’t sell yourself so short, Esther.” I blush a little, but blessedly, she doesn’t tease further. Instead, she turns her attention to the letter now sitting atop the island. “Congratulations on the new job. It’ll be nice to see you actually use that degree you earned.”

“I doubt they’ll have me doing anything glamorous right away,” I say. “With the way I got hired, I’ll definitely have to prove myself before they take me seriously.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard,” Cynthia says. “You’re good at everything you do. You’ll blow them away in no time.”

I wish I could share in her confidence. While I do think myself capable, I’ve been out of that line of work for a very, very long time. I would work hard to prove myself, but I have no illusions it’s going to be an uphill battle for me.

Cynthia doesn’t seem to agree. “Why, I’ll bet they even put you on broadcast before long.”

“There’s no way they would put me in front of a camera,” I say. I’m no bombshell. No one’s going to click onto the news just to watch me.

“There you go, selling yourself short, Esther,” Cynthia says. “I hate what Garnar’s done to you. All these years, he’s worn down your confidence. If you could only see yourself how the rest of us see you… How Miles sees you…”

I shake my head. “I’m a game to Miles. Nothing more.”

Shaking her head, Cynthia returns to the fridge. Her wine glass is empty. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Later, I stand in the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. For a moment, I try to see myself as Cynthia says. I look past the hints of wrinkles and the few gray hairs to try to find the woman I had been in college underneath.

I was so vocal and outgoing then, so filled with hopes and dreams. The world was my oyster, there was nothing I could accomplish. When did that change? When did I let myself become so complacent?

Brushing out my hair, I try to style it like they do the women newscasters on television, and imagine myself sitting in front of a camera.

It’s so foolish, I shouldn’t even consider it.

But… with the right light and some makeup… why couldn’t I be camera ready?

Hugo would hardly go for it. I’d have to work myself to the bone to prove that I could ever be capable of that.

Yet… maybe I am up for that challenge.

Instead of asking why Hugo would put me in front of a camera, I need to start asking myself, why not me?

Am I not Esther Graham? N0 – Esther Owens. My adopted father’s daughter, trained from a young age to shine in the political and social spotlight.

It’s strange, I think in the moment, standing here, looking forward to the next chapter of my life. Making hopes and plans. When was the last time I allowed myself to think outside of my family’s needs? To focus fully on my own?

With a skip in my step, I make my way to the bedroom to change into my pajamas. Today has had its ups and downs, but it’s left me feeling high.

I can move forward now. I can start to dream again.

My phone buzzes with a text. My nerves prickle. What now?

I really should ignore it. I’ve had enough of today, thank you very much. I’d like to go to sleep still feeling this happy thrill of what’s to come.

But, the text has already killed the mood, and leaving it unread and unknown makes everything worse. Who knows what horror could be waiting for me next.

Grabbing my phone, I unlock the screen. I immediately sigh in relief seeing the message is not from Garnar. Instead, it’s from my adopted mother.

Dinner tomorrow. 7pm. Garnar won’t be there.

No questions. No requests. No pleasantries at all.

While not terribly unlike my parents, trepidation does start to coil uncomfortably around in my stomach.

I should be happy to see my family, and happier still that they’ve accepted my separation from Garnar.

But something still feels… off. I can’t place it, but the feeling stays with me as I type off a quick reply and head to bed.

I don’t know why, but I feel a bit like I’m about to walk into a lion’s den.