Double Con

Chapter 1 – The Reunion

Colin Becker unlocked his office on the eighth floor just after seven thirty. The Safety Division always felt too quiet at that hour, the kind of quiet that made the hum of the fluorescent lights seem louder than it should. Army coffee is vile or, perhaps, all coffee is vile. In any case, his idea of a morning wakeup beverage was a nice cold can of Tab. He slid into his chair and pulled the previous day’s inspection reports toward him.

The window beside his desk framed the Santa Catalinas in a pale blue morning haze. Even after fifteen years in Tucson, that view still caught him off guard.

‘It looks cooler out there than it is. It is already going to be a scorcher. Back east September is the start of fall. In Tucson, it is still summer.’

He rubbed a hand over his jaw and started sorting the stack. Most of it was routine: elevator certifications, a complaint about a loose handrail at the library, a request for a follow up at the water plant. He reached for his pen, but the phone rang before he uncapped it. The shrill sound cut through the stillness.

He picked up. “Safety Division, Becker.”

A dispatcher from Tucson Fire spoke quickly, her voice tight. There was a transformer fire near Swan and Pima. Smoke visible. TEP crews en route. They wanted a city safety officer on scene to make sure no municipal workers wandered into danger.

“On my way,” he said, already standing.

He hung up and grabbed his field notebook and radio. The hallway outside his office was waking up, footsteps and low voices echoing off the tile. He hit the elevator button and waited, watching the mountains through the tall windows across the lobby. Sunlight was sliding down the slopes, turning the rock a soft gold.

‘Transformer fire. Could be nothing. Could be a mess. Depends on how old the equipment is.’

The elevator arrived with a soft chime. He stepped in, rode down past the floors where the city planners, engineers, and clerks were starting their day, and crossed the lobby toward the parking lot. The warmth hit him the moment he stepped outside, a dry slap that smelled faintly of dust and asphalt.

His city truck sat in its usual spot, a white Ford with the municipal seal fading on the door. He climbed in, started the engine, and pulled out onto Pennington. Morning traffic was building, but not enough to slow him. He turned east, weaving through the grid of downtown streets until he reached Broadway.

‘Fifteen years here and I still forget how fast the city warms up. Iowa never did this. But I would not go back.’

He merged into the flow of cars heading toward midtown. The sun was higher now, bright enough that he flipped down the visor. He passed the familiar landmarks: the El Con area, the long stretch of older storefronts, the saguaros standing like sentinels along the roadside. As he approached Swan, he saw it: a thin gray plume rising into the sky, wavering in the heat shimmer.

‘That is not nothing. Better get eyes on it before someone does something stupid.’

He tightened his grip on the wheel and accelerated toward the intersection, ready to take control of whatever waited for him.

Colin turned onto Pima and checked the street signs as he drove. The dispatcher had said Swan, but the smoke plume did not line up. It was too far west, drifting from somewhere closer to Columbus. He slowed slightly, watching the column rise in the warm September air. The sun was hot on the windshield but not as harsh as it was in July. It was the kind of morning Tucson offered as the summer began to fade. The days were still hot, but the nights cooled off and it lingered into the morning.

‘Columbus. That is closer to where she lived. I have not thought about her in a long time.’

They’d had a few dates while they were in high school and then later when he was on leave from the Army. They had gotten serious when he was discharged and he had asked her to marry him. But she had a dream and it was more important than he was.

He took a deep breath.

“Focus, Colin,” he said out loud.

The neighborhood ahead was familiar in a way he wished it was not. Fifteen years in Tucson meant memories were scattered all over the city, but this one had a sting. A small apartment complex near a mesquite tree that dropped seed pods all over the sidewalk. A girl who laughed easily and left suddenly. He had been twenty-two then, too young to understand why it hurt so much.

‘Why does it still hit like this? It has been years.’

He exhaled slowly and forced his attention back to the job. The smoke was thicker now, and as he drew closer he saw a flicker of unnatural light above the rooftops. He turned onto a side street, and the source came into view.

At the top of a utility pole, a huge yellow green ball of plasma pulsed and hissed. It clung to the metal hardware like a living thing, swelling and collapsing in slow, angry breaths. The glow washed across the pavement, bright enough to overpower the morning sun. The air around it shimmered as if it were about to ignite.

‘That is a full arc. That is bad. If that jumps, someone is going to get killed.’

He eased the truck to the curb behind a fire engine already on scene. The crew had established a perimeter, cones and tape marking off the danger zone. A few neighbors stood behind the line, staring upward with wide eyes. The smell of ozone drifted through the air, sharp and metallic.

Colin stepped out and shut the door. The plasma ball crackled overhead, sending out snapping sounds that reminded him of static discharges on a cold day, only magnified until they felt like they were inside his chest. He scanned the scene and spotted a familiar figure near the pump panel.

Captain Ray Morales. Solid, steady, and unflappable. Colin felt a small measure of relief.

He walked toward him, boots crunching on the gravel at the edge of the pavement. Morales turned as he approached.

“Morning, Becker,” Morales said. “Quite a show.”

“What have you got?” Colin asked.

Morales pointed up at the pole. “Blew about ten minutes ago. Neighbors heard a bang. TEP is on the way, but they are coming from midtown.”

Colin studied the pole. The wooden top was beginning to char. The plasma ball swelled again, brighter this time, sending a ripple of light down the wires.

‘If that pole goes, the lines will drop across the street. I need to make sure no city crew wanders in.’

“I will sweep the area,” Colin said. “Anyone from Parks or Streets scheduled nearby?”

“Not that we know of,” Morales said. “But check anyway.”

Colin nodded and stepped back, the crackling overhead following him like a warning as he moved to secure the scene.

Colin had just finished speaking with Morales when movement caught his eye. A front door across the street swung open and a woman stepped out onto the small concrete stoop.

She wore old slacks and a faded tee shirt, clearly something she had thrown on just to see what the commotion was about. The September breeze lifted her long red hair behind her like a banner. Her fair skin glowed in the strange yellow green light from the plasma ball, and her bright green eyes scanned the scene with startled curiosity. Despite the unrefined clothing, she was as grand and graceful as a ballerina.

For a moment he forgot the fire, the danger, the job. His breath caught.

‘Erin. Of all the streets in Tucson, of all the mornings, why here?’

Captain Morales whistled softly. “What a beauty,” he murmured.

She shaded her eyes with one hand, squinting toward the fire engine. Then she saw him. Her face lit up with recognition so sudden and so bright it felt like a punch.

“Colin Becker. I cannot believe it is you,” she shouted, already running toward him.

He felt the old instinctive pull, the memory of her laughter, the way she used to lean into him when she was excited. She was moving fast, clearly intending to throw her arms around his neck. He turned away before she reached him, stepping slightly toward Morales as if checking the perimeter.

She stopped short behind him. “Colin, hey, it’s me. It has been forever. How are you?”

Her voice was warm, hopeful, too familiar. He kept his eyes on the utility pole.

“I am busy,” he said.

“But darling, I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you?”

He did not speak. He did not look at her. He simply walked away, as if heading toward the sidewalk where he needed to check for city workers. His words hung in the air like cold metal.

‘Do not do this. Do not look back. You know exactly how this goes.’

Behind him, he heard her breath catch, a small sound of confusion or hurt. She had expected something else. She always had.

“Colin, wait,” she called after him. “Come in for a minute. My mother would love to see you. You can meet my daughter, Celina.”

When he didn’t answer, she dropped her arms in frustration and went back into her house. Colin walked back over to the fire captain.

Morales had watched the exchange with open disbelief. When Colin reached him again, the captain raised his eyebrows, looking at Colin as if he’d lost his mind.

“You know her?” Morales asked.

Colin kept his eyes on the pole. “Used to.”

Morales gave him a look that said he was a fool. “She looked happy to see you.”

Colin did not answer. He checked the distance to the fire line, scanned the street for any city vehicles, and forced his attention back to the job. The plasma ball crackled overhead, a reminder that he had no time for ghosts from the past.

‘Focus. Do the work. Leave the rest alone.’

He moved on, the air carrying the faint scent of ozone and something else he refused to name.

            *           *           *

The next morning the Safety Division office was already stirring when Colin sat down at his desk. The September sun was still low, casting a soft glow across the Catalinas outside his window. He had just opened his notebook when the phone rang. He reached for it automatically.

“Safety Division, Becker.”

A woman’s voice came through the line, bright and unmistakable. “Colin, it’s Erin. I need to file a complaint. The Fire Department shut off the power to my house yesterday and everything in my refrigerator spoiled. What am I supposed to do about that?”

He closed his eyes for a moment.

‘Of course. She was not going to let yesterday go. She never let anything go.’

He kept his tone flat. “You need to call the City Attorney’s office.”

“The Attorney’s office?” she asked. “I don’t want a lawyer. I want someone who can help me.”

“This office is responsible for the safety of City employees. We don’t handle complaints.”

She pouted. “Darling, I guess I can’t blame you. I know you’re still resentful about the way I left you in Santa Fe. But really, I was so excited to see you yesterday. I think about you all the time. Can’t you let it go? Can’t you at least try to say you missed me?”

He was tempted. After all, it had been a long time. He could only stay mad for so long. But it wasn’t anger that drove him. It was fear. He couldn’t forget the hell she had put him through, how close she had come to destroying him.

“I can’t help you,” he said, trying to make his voice cold.

There was a pause, then a sharp breath. “That is all you have to say? Are you still bitter?”

He stared at the stack of reports on his desk. Her voice had not changed. It still carried that mix of confidence and expectation, as if the world would always bend a little for her.

“I am busy,” he said, and hung up.

The receiver clicked into place with a finality that echoed louder than it should have. He sat still for a moment, jaw tight, the silence in the office suddenly too sharp.

‘Why did she have to show up again? Why here? Why now?’

Across the room, his secretary looked over, startled by the abrupt end of the call. Colin ignored her and reached for the next report in his stack, but the words refused to settle into meaning.

‘She always did this. She walked in like she owned the moment. Like nothing had ever gone wrong. Like she had not left him alone and suicidal.’

He set the report down and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Outside, the September light softened the mountains, making them look almost gentle. It should have been a peaceful morning.

Instead, he felt the old wound stirring again, the one he had convinced himself was long healed.

He reached for his can of Tab, took a slow drink, and forced himself back into the rhythm of work. There were inspections to schedule, reports to file, and a transformer incident to document. Erin’s voice still echoed in his head, but he pushed it aside.

‘Do the job. Let the past stay where it belongs.’

He picked up his pen and began writing, the office settling back into its usual morning hum as if nothing had happened at all.

            *           *           *

On Wednesday, Colin had barely settled behind his desk when he heard raised voices in the outer office. Dolores, his secretary, said something in a low, uncertain tone, and then a sharper voice cut through it.

“I am here to see Colin Becker. Right now.”

He closed his eyes.

‘No. Not today. Not again.’

A moment later, Erin stepped through the doorway. She wore a simple beige dress, hair brushed, eyes bright with determination. She looked like a woman who had rehearsed this confrontation all morning.

“There you are,” she said. “You hung up on me yesterday.”

Dolores, standing behind her, shot Colin a worried glance. She was a young Hispanic woman with careful makeup and a neat bun, always polite, always composed. But the tension in the room made her shift her weight uneasily.

Erin planted her hands on the edge of his desk. “All my food spoiled. Everything. Do you know how much groceries cost? What am I supposed to do?”

Colin kept his expression neutral. “You need to speak with the City Attorney’s office.”

“That is what you said yesterday,” Erin snapped. “I came here because you did not even listen. Are you really going to pretend you don’t care?”

He felt Dolores watching him. He felt Erin’s eyes searching his face for something she thought she still had a claim to.

‘She wants more than an apology. She wants the past back. She always did.’

Dolores cleared her throat softly. “I am going to get a cup of coffee,” she said, already edging toward the door. “I will be right back.”

She slipped out quickly, leaving the two of them alone.

“I am a taxpayer, damn it. I have a legitimate complaint. Why won’t you listen to me?”

“I told you. That is not what we do in this office.”

Erin leaned closer. “Are you still bitter? Is that what this is? Because I came out Monday to say hello and you acted like I was a stranger.”

“You should call the City Attorney,” he repeated.

“That is not what I asked,” she said. “I asked if you are still bitter.”

He stood up, needing the distance. “I have work to do.”

She stared at him, stunned. “After everything we were, you will not even talk to me?”

‘Do not answer that. Do not let her pull you back into the old pattern.’

He picked up a stack of reports and moved toward the filing cabinet. “You need to leave, Erin.”

She blinked, hurt flashing across her face. “I came here because I thought maybe we could talk. Maybe we could fix things.”

“There is nothing to fix,” he said.

Her breath caught. “You do not mean that.”

He did not look at her. “Please leave.”

For a long moment she stood there, silent except for the faint sound of her breathing. Then she turned and walked out, the door clicking shut behind her.

Colin let out a slow breath and set the reports down.

‘She is not done. She never walks away that easily.’

He rubbed his temples and waited for Dolores to return, already dreading the next time Erin decided to appear.

            *           *           *

Friday night, Colin had just finished washing the dinner dishes when someone knocked on his apartment door. It was a firm, confident knock, not the hesitant kind a neighbor used when asking for a favor. He frowned and wiped his hands on a dish towel.

‘Who would come by at this hour?’

He opened the door and froze.

Erin stood in the walkway, framed by the dim light of the exterior fixture. She wore a simple white dress with a generous pleated skirt that must have been held out by petticoats. She was elegant with her long red hair loose around her shoulders and black shoes with high slim heels. The dress was smart and sleeveless, revealing her fair round shoulders. The material was textured and looked a little warm for Tucson.

Her green eyes were bright, almost triumphant, as if she had already won something he had not agreed to give.

“Erin,” he said. “How did you find me?”

She smiled, pleased with herself. “Your pretty little Mexican secretary was quite helpful. I think she is worried about your love life.”

He let out a short laugh, more disbelief than amusement. “You have nothing to do with my love life. You have nothing to do with any kind of love.”

For a moment she looked wounded, but the expression vanished quickly, replaced by determination. She stepped a little closer, hands clasped in front of her as if she were trying to appear harmless.

“I did not come here to fight,” she said. “I just want to talk. You would not talk to me at the fire. You would not talk to me on the phone. You would not talk to me at City Hall. So, I came here.”

He hesitated. He should have told her to leave. He knew that. But something in her expression, something familiar and stubborn, made him step back from the doorway.

“Fine,” he said. “You came here. Now go away.”

She looked at him with those splendid green eyes and licked her lips. Then she took a deep breath.

“You can’t leave me standing here like an insurance salesman. Let me come in.”

Reluctantly, he stepped aside.

She slipped past him, looking around the small apartment with quick, curious glances. He liked to keep it neat, spare, and quiet. She stood in the middle of the living room, hands on her hips.

“You have not changed much,” she said.

He ignored that. “What do you want, Erin?”

She turned toward him, her hair catching the light. “You are taking me to dinner.”

He stared at her. “No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are,” she said, as if it were already settled. “I know a little Greek place nearby. You owe me at least a conversation. And I am hungry. And you always did the right thing, even when you didn’t want to.”

‘She is doing it again. Pushing. Assuming. Acting like the past gives her a claim.’

He crossed his arms. “I do not owe you anything.”

“Can I have a drink?” she asked.

“No. This is not a social occasion. You were not invited.”

She stepped closer, her voice softer now. “Colin, please,” she said breathlessly. “Let’s just go to dinner. One meal. I am not asking for anything else.”

He looked at her for a long moment. The stubbornness in her eyes was the same as it had been when they were young. The part of him that wanted to show her the door was fighting with the part that remembered her laughter, her warmth, the way she used to look at him like he mattered.

‘This is a mistake. You know it is a mistake.’

He exhaled slowly. “Fine. Dinner. But that is all.”

Her smile bloomed instantly, bright and relieved. “Good. I will wait while you change.”

He turned away, already regretting it, but unable to take the words back.

‘This is going to hurt. It always does.’

Erin just stood in the middle of the small living room, arms folded loosely, studying him with that familiar half‑smile that always meant trouble.

“You are still the same,” she said. “You get mad the moment I tease you. You always did.”

He felt his jaw tighten. “I am not in the mood for games.”

“That is the problem,” she said, stepping closer. “You never are.”

‘She is doing it again. Poking. Testing. Seeing how far she can push before I snap.’

He turned away, but she followed, closing the distance between them with quiet, deliberate steps. She was suddenly very close to him. When he raised his arm, she pushed it away and reached out to touch him, a light, lingering touch meant to disarm him. He pulled back, but she only smiled wider.

“Colin,” she said softly, “I’ve wanted you since Santa Fe. I know you want me. You do not have to pretend you feel nothing.”

“I am not pretending,” he said.

She moved closer again, ignoring the warning in his voice. This time she wrapped her arms around him in a sudden, determined embrace. It was warm, familiar, and far too close to the past he had spent years trying to bury. She moved against him, blatantly wanton. He felt a stirring in his groin and her eyes told him she knew it, had deliberately caused it and was going to use it to her advantage. He didn’t want to respond to her, but he was.

She saw the effect it was having on him, and it seemed to arouse her to greater boldness. She pulled back for a breath.

“Oh God, you feel so good.”

He stiffened. “Erin, stop.”

But she held on, resting her cheek briefly against his shoulder, refusing to let the moment slip away.

“You can be angry,” she murmured. “I do not mind. I would rather have you angry than gone.”

‘She always knew how to get past my guard. Always.’

He stepped back, breaking the embrace, but she looked up at him with bright, unshaken eyes.

“Come on,” she said. “You are taking me to dinner.”

“Not if you won’t behave,” he said. It sounded lame, even to him.

“Yes, you are,” she said, as if the decision had already been made. “You let me in. That means something.”

“It means I made a mistake.”

She shook her head. “It means you still care. Even if you hate that you do.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but the words would not come. She watched him, waiting, confident in a way that made him feel cornered.

‘This is a mistake. I know it is. But she is not leaving until she gets what she wants.’

He exhaled slowly. “Fine. Dinner. But that is all.”

Her smile bloomed, triumphant and relieved all at once.

He went into the bathroom and started to remove his clothing.

“You are still in great shape,” she said, her voice coming from behind him as she stood in the open door.

“Get out of my bathroom,” he said, trying not to sound like an outraged maiden aunt.

“I’ve seen you naked before,” she said. “Remember?”

“I’m trying not to. I had to work hard to forget you.”

He went over to push her out of the room and close the door. This time he would lock it.

When he touched her, he knew he had made a mistake. His emotions were raw. Seeing her at the fire had been a shock. Living through the past few days and resisting her determined attempts to reconnect had been a strain. He was tense. His juices were flowing and he had never had any luck in refusing her.

The room suddenly felt smaller and warmer. He seemed to be having trouble with his breathing. She was reacting as well. Her light skin tone was darker and flushed. He could see small beads of perspiration that had formed on her upper lip.

She threw herself into his arms, kissing him, her mouth rough and hungry. There was something in the air. It was more than just her perfume. It was an animal musk that filled the space and it brought back memories of a time when they were young and wild and alive.

She shifted her body and her caress inflamed his desire. He was no longer Colin Becker the quiet, controlled and serious City employee who could handle any emergency. He was an untamed savage with primitive needs and prehistoric rapacity.

“Do you remember the first time I touched you this way?” she asked with a laugh. “You were surprised and frightened, but you liked it.”

She reached down to stroke him between his thighs. He heard her moan as she felt his throbbing erection.

“I’m here now, Colin,” she said in a throaty whisper. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

“You’d better be careful, Erin,” he said, trying to regain control. “You’re going to get that pretty dressed all mussed.”

“It doesn’t muss easily,” she said calmly. “That’s why I wore it. But if it bothers you so much, take it off.”

“I’m not interested in your high school games with sex.”

“I’m not in high school anymore.”

He picked her up and carried her over to the heavy black dresser that stood next to the wall. She wrapped her arms and legs around him and he held her with his left hand while he used his right to sweep the clutter off the top of the dresser. It fell to the floor with a loud crash and the tinkle of breaking glass. He dropped her onto the flat wooden surface and moved between her legs with a powerful lunge.

He had expected her to make angry, indignant cries of outrage. Instead, he heard a triumphant laugh, and she began to move her hips in urgent little circles that left no doubt about what she really wanted. He felt her hot panting breath on his face and saw her cheeks flush. Her eyes looked like bright green lasers.

He pulled the dress off her shoulders to reveal her large pale breasts. He lowered his face to suck on her small pink nipple. It was already hard and puckered.

He fumbled with her skirt and what seemed like yards of crisp, stiff netting. She licked the bottom of his ear with a quick dart of her tongue. He heard her gasp. She began to pull up her skirt with both hands, wanting him inside her now. She spread her legs wider and he knew he was out of control, and he didn’t care.

He got his fingers under the elastic band of her panties and pulled hard.

Now she did cry out in indignation as the fabric tore with a shrill ripping sound. He didn’t bother to pull them off but simply pushed them out of his way and entered her velvety depths with a powerful thrust. She was hot and wet and more than ready.

Then her mouth was on his. She began rolling her hips from side to side and tilting her pelvis forward to increase the pressure on her sensory organ. Her body began to quiver and then to shake and he knew she was close to a massive orgasm.

He felt her fingernails dig into his back and her mouth became warm and responsive. She began to move with him. It felt like a dance, they were moving together as if they had rehearsed all the moves for weeks.

She cried out in frenzy and began to buck and heave.

“Oh, God!” she moaned. “Oh, God. Right there. Right there.”

Chapter 2 – The Test Begins

Erin lay curled in Colin’s bed, wrapped in one of his old blankets. She had her face buried in the hollow of his throat and, between her thighs, she could feel the warm damp evidence of his love.

The apartment was dim except for the small lamp near the kitchen, and the quiet felt warm and safe in a way she had not felt in years. She could feel him move in his sleep and she cuddled closer.

.

She smiled to herself.

‘He let me in. That was the key. Once that door opened, I could take it the rest of the way.’

She shifted slightly, pulling the blanket up to her chin. The fabric smelled faintly of detergent and something that was simply him. It made her feel steadier, more certain. She had walked into this apartment with nothing but determination, and now she felt the future settling into place.

‘He is still the same. Still solid. Still careful. Still trying to pretend he does not feel anything. But he does. I saw it in his eyes.’

She thought of her mother’s house, the cramped bedroom, the nearly empty refrigerator, the divorce papers she could not afford to file. She thought of her daughter asleep in what had been her sister’s room, unaware of how close they were to running out of options.

‘This is our chance. Mine and hers. A real home. A real life. Colin can give us that. He always could.’

She let her gaze drift across his bedroom. It was neat, quiet, steady. Everything she wanted. Everything she needed. She imagined her daughter sitting at the little table by the window, doing homework. She imagined herself cooking dinner in the small kitchen. She imagined Colin coming home from work, tired but dependable.

‘He would be good to her. He would be good to me. He always tried to be, even when I was too young and too foolish to see it.’

She tucked the blanket tighter around herself, feeling a warm, confident glow spread through her chest. She ran her hand over a massive shoulder that felt like warm granite. Tonight was the first time they had actually made love. When they were together in Santa Fe, she had been terrified of getting pregnant and had made him settle for half measures. Those days were over. She had him now. There would still be resistance and protest, but she knew she had him.

‘He will come around. He is angry now, but anger means he still cares. If he did not care, he would not react at all.’

She replayed the moment at the fire scene, the shock on his face when he saw her, the way he tried to turn away. She replayed the moment in the apartment when he finally stopped resisting and let her seduce him. He had tried to act all masculine and powerful, but she had been in charge. She had gotten exactly what she wanted.

She had felt the shift, small but unmistakable.

‘He is halfway there already. He just does not know it.’

She closed her eyes, already planning the next steps. She would be patient. She would be persistent. She would remind him of what they had been and what they could be again. She would make herself impossible to ignore.

‘He will marry me. I know he will. And when he does, everything will finally be right.’

She drifted toward sleep in his bed, wrapped in his arms, certain that the future was already unfolding exactly the way she intended.

            *           *           *

Erin woke before Colin did. The apartment was quiet, the early September moon light slipping through the blinds in thin pale stripes. She sat up slowly, pulling the blanket around her shoulders. Colin was snoring lightly in a charming way. She moved quietly, trying not to wake him.

She smiled. She felt better than she had in years.

‘He let me stay. He did not want to, but he did. That means something. It always does with him.’

She stood and smoothed her hair with her fingers, glancing around the apartment.

He got up and went into the bathroom. She quickly got back into bed and arranged a tableau for him.

She knew just what pose would touch his heart, and maybe a few other organs as well. She threw off the blanket and put both hands between her legs.

She was sure that one more quick hard bang would wrap him around her little finger.

Colin, however, was not as easy to control as she had imagined. He gave her an admiring look, then started to walk out of the room.

“Darling,” she called quickly. “Could you do me a favor?”

“What is that?”

His voice was cool, but his eyes told her she had scored major points. With a little more enticement, he would do any fool thing she told him to do.

“I am not ready to face my public yet.”

He frowned slightly. “Your public?”

She waved a hand. People, a crowd in a restaurant. I need a little time before I go out.”

She watched his expression carefully. He was guarded, wary, but he had not told her to leave. That was enough.

‘He is trying so hard to keep the walls up. He does not realize they already have cracks.’

She got out of bed and stepped close, letting her voice take on a lighter tone.

“I was thinking,” she said, “You could go out and get me a Whataburger.”

He blinked. “Why would I do that?”

She tilted her head, letting nostalgia soften her features.

“Remember Santa Fe? After our first time together, you went out and got me a Whataburger with extra pickles. You said it was the least you could do.”

She saw the memory hit him. She saw it in the way his shoulders stiffened, the way he looked away as if the past were something he could hide from.

‘Good. Remember it. Remember how much you loved me. Remember how sure you were.’

She moved to the small table and sat down, folding her hands neatly, as if she belonged there.

“It was sweet,” she said. “You were sweet. You were madly in love with me. You wanted to marry me.”

He did not answer. He did not have to. She could see the conflict in his eyes.

‘He is fighting himself, not me. He always did. And he always lost.’

She let the silence stretch, confident and patient.

“I would really like that Whataburger,” she said gently. “It would mean a lot.”

“I think they’re closed,” he said.

“They stay open late on Fridays,” she said. “You can make it if you hurry.”

He stood there, torn between irritation and something else he did not want to name. She could feel the moment balancing, waiting for his choice.

‘He will go. He always did things for me. He always tried to make me happy. That part of him never changed.’

She smiled, certain of the outcome.

‘He is coming back to me. One small step at a time. And when he does, everything will fall into place.’

She waited, calm and sure, knowing she had already nudged him back toward the man who once would have done anything for her.

As he left, she called after him, “Be sure to get a Coke with a lot of ice.”

            *           *           *

Colin drove east on Speedway kicking himself.

‘What the hell were you thinking?’

He had promised himself nothing like this would happen. He was supposed to be cold and different. He was ready to do battle. Then, the moment she touched him, he surrendered. What a twit.

The evening traffic light but steady. The Whataburger sign was still a few miles ahead, glowing faintly in the dark. He kept one hand on the wheel, the other tapping against his thigh, his thoughts circling like a slow, tightening storm.

‘She wants something. She always wants something. She did not come back into my life for nothing.’

He replayed the evening in his mind. Erin wrapped in his blanket. Erin smiling like she had already won. Erin mentioning Santa Fe, marriage, the past he had buried.

‘Marriage. She said it like it was still on the table. Like I would ever ask her for that now. Not with her. Not after what she did.’

He turned onto Speedway near Columbus. It was near her house, the house she’d grown up in. The house where she was now living with her mother. The memory stung, sharp and unwelcome.

He turned into the Whataburger parking lot, the orange and white stripes bright against the sky. He put the truck in park and sat for a moment, staring at the building.

He couldn’t believe he’d slept with her. Well, there wasn’t much sleeping at first. It made him feel stupid, but she was so beautiful and they had been very close at one time.

Colin drove back toward the apartment with the paper sack beside him on the seat, the smell of warm food filling the cab. The moon blazed in the western sky, but he barely saw it. His mind had slipped backward; into places he rarely allowed himself to go.

‘You almost died because of her. You almost ended everything.’

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. It had been years, but the memory still carried a cold weight. The way Erin had left him, the night she told him she was done, something inside him had cracked. He had been twenty-two, foolish, and certain she was the only woman he would ever love. When she walked away, he had felt the world tilt under his feet.

‘You were stupid. You were weak. You let her break you.’

He’d made a serious effort to kill himself. It had been more like giving up, a way to end the pain. Suicide was a process of letting go, not caring if he woke up. But he did wake up. He had survived. And afterward, he had forced himself to keep moving.

He finished college because he did not know what else to do. He started graduate school because it seemed like the next step. Mining engineering. Hard work. Long hours. Endless calculations. He had tried to bury himself in it, but the work was too much and the money ran out. He dropped out and spent six months drifting, unemployed, living on cheap food and borrowed time.

‘You were nothing then. No job. No future. No one.’

He had taken the civil service exam almost as a joke, a last‑ditch attempt to keep from falling apart. The city hired him. Dumb luck. A desk job. A paycheck. A chance to start over. He worked hard because he had nothing else. He rose through the ranks because of his own misconduct. In the perverse way the world had of rewarding bad behavior, he had been promoted because he had been sleeping with his boss’ wife.

It turned out to be a scandalous affair. When his boss found out his wife was being unfaithful, his boss lost it. He started drinking and got himself fired. Somehow, no one ever found out that Colin was her lover. Now he was head of the Safety Division, with an office people respected. The irony wasn’t lost on him, but he liked the job and the pay was amazing.

‘And she saw it. She saw the office. She saw the title. She thinks you made something of yourself.’

He turned onto his street, the tires humming against the pavement.

‘She thinks you are safe. She thinks you are steady. She thinks you are the man she should have married.’

He felt a bitter twist in his chest.

‘She does not love you. She does not even believe in love anymore. She wants a husband. She wants a house. She wants someone to take care of her and her daughter. She hurt me too badly.’

He passed a line of mesquite trees, their shadows flickering across the windshield. The city felt different this evening, as if the past had reached up through the pavement and grabbed hold of him.

“I am not walking back into that fire.’

But another thought crept in, quieter, more calculating.

He slowed as he approached the apartment building.

‘And you want her. You always wanted her. Even now. Even after everything. If she thinks I might marry her, she will stay close. She will do what I want. She will behave. She is a she-devil, but she is fantastic in bed . I liked what we did in Santa Fe, but real sex with her is a hundred times better. If I can keep her on a string, I will get the use of some very superior equipment.”

He parked his truck.

‘Some women withhold sex until they get a ring. Fine. I can withhold marriage until I get what I want.’

He did not know exactly what that was yet. He wanted sex, but he also wanted more. Maybe peace. Maybe closure. Maybe the satisfaction of not being the one left behind this time. Maybe just the chance to understand why she had walked away all those years ago.

‘But you cannot trust her. You know that. You know what she is capable of. You know how easily she can lie. You know how quickly she can walk away.’

He picked up the bag of food.

‘So, you test her. You make her do things she does not want to do. You see how far she will go. You see if she bends. You see if she breaks.’

He opened the door of his truck and stepped out.

‘She thinks she is running this. She thinks she is pulling me back in. But she is not the only one who can play a long game. She wants something. And until I know what it is, I am not giving her anything real. Let her think she is winning. Let her think I am remembering Santa Fe. Let her think I am the same boy she left behind. This time, I am the one in control.’

He felt better now that he had a plan.

‘And if she fails the test, you walk away. You survived losing her once. You can survive it again.’

He headed toward the apartment, the late-night air cool and refreshing. The old wound inside him pulsed like a bruise that had never fully healed.

            *           *           *

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the room lit only by the small lamp on the end table. Erin sat cross‑legged on the sofa, unwrapping her burger with a small, contented sigh. Colin watched her from the chair across from her, the paper sack crumpled at his feet.

“This tastes just like it used to,” she said. “Rico never let me eat this kind of thing. He said it was trash food.”

Colin looked up sharply. “Rico?”

She froze. The name hung in the air like a dropped glass.

“I mean,” she said quickly, “My husband. Well. Not really my husband. Not anymore.”

Colin set his food down. “You are still married.”

Her eyes widened, and for a moment she looked genuinely frightened. Then she leaned forward, her voice softening.

“Colin, listen. It is not what you think. We have been separated for a year. I live with my mother. Rico and I are finished. Completely finished.”

He said nothing. His jaw tightened.

‘She is married. She came here married. She let you touch her. She let you fuck her. She did not tell you.’

Erin reached out and touched his wrist lightly. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I know that. I was afraid you would push me away. I could not stand that. Not again.”

He pulled his hand back slowly.

“You should have told me,” he said.

“I know.” Her voice trembled just enough to sound real. “I am really sorry. I am trying to get a divorce. He is dragging his feet. He does not want to let go. He thinks I owe him something because I stayed home with Celina. He thinks I should still be his wife even though he never treated me like one.”

She looked down at her hands.

“I am not with him. I have not been with him in a long time. I came to you because you are the only person who ever cared about me. Really cared.”

Colin watched her carefully.

‘She is lying. Or she is telling the truth. Or she is doing both at the same time. You cannot tell. You never could.’

Erin looked up, her eyes shining in the dim light.

“I am not asking you for anything. I just want you to understand. I am not with him. I am not going back to him. I am done.”

Colin picked up his food again, though he no longer felt hungry.

“We will talk about it later,” he said.

She nodded, relieved, and leaned back against the sofa.

‘She is married. She is still married. And she came here anyway.’

He took a slow breath.

‘You test her. You push her. You see what she does. And if she fails, you walk away.’

He took another bite, the taste flat in his mouth.

“What about you?” she asked. “Did you find someone else after we . . . “

“After you left me to die,” he said.

“Please, Colin. I know I hurt you. I am so very sorry. I had to follow my dream. You must understand that.”

“You might have told me.”

“That’s not fair. I did tell you. I told you from the very beginning. I had been planning to go to graduate school since I was in high school. You can’t pretend you didn’t know. The University of Texas at Autin had one of the best French Lit. programs in the nation. I had to go there.”

“I guess that’s true,” he said. “I was so in love with you I just ignored what I didn’t want to look at.”

“It was a mistake,” she said. “It was the dumbest thing I ever did. Please forgive me.”

She looked like a girl who was genuinely sorry for what she had done. Colin realized that she had changed their relationship drastically. After she’d let him make love to her, a kind of love anyway, he found that he was no longer mad at her. He still didn’t trust her, but the intense heat of anger had faded.

“We both made mistakes,” he said and, to his surprise, he meant it.

Erin smiled at him softly. She gave him a grateful look and leaned back slightly, relaxing, sprawled with her legs apart in an unlady-like pose. Her body reminded him of something. It was earthy, bold and suggestive. Then he remembered the hookers he had seen in Baltimore. They had that same look of fleshy promise coupled with arrogance. He had to remind himself that Erin was a dangerous woman.

Chapter 3 – The Loan

Erin stood, gathered up the trash from Whataburger and walked into the kitchen to dispose of it. She exaggerated her hip movements, but he didn’t seem to notice.

She patted her tumbled hair and lifted an elegant leg to scratch her calf. She gave him what she hoped was a humid look. It wasn’t hard to do. She hadn’t been laid for a long time and Colin had learned a lot while they’d been apart. The sex had been great. It was the next part that made her nervous and embarrassed.

“I need to ask you for a favor.”

“Go ahead.”

“It’s just that it could get confusing after what happened in your bedroom. I want you to know, there is no connection.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was going to hit you for a loan. The city really did turn off our power and ruin all the food in the refrigerator. Payday isn’t until Friday and I really need the help. I’ll pay you back and what we did is not a part of it. That had nothing to do with money.”

“Okay.”

“Could you make it two hundred bucks?” she asked, letting her eyes shift away.

“Sure,” he said, looking surprised that she didn’t ask for more.

She came over and took him by the hand. She felt confident now that the money part of it was over.

“Take me back to bed,” she commanded.

He obeyed.

Later that Saturday morning, Erin lay in his bed while he was in the shower. She enjoyed the way his sheer sheets moved against her naked body. Her mother’s sheets seemed to have been made from burlap. It had been a busy night, but she’d done what she’d come to do, and she got what she needed to get.

“Hello, darling,” she said when he came back into the room. She patted the bed. “Come on in. The water’s fine.”

“Sorry, gorgeous, but I’ve got to go to work and you’ve got to go home.”

“It’s Saturday,” she objected.

“I’m behind. I’m always behind. I use the weekends to catch up.”

“I’ll stay here,” she said with a yawn. “I’ll grab a shower after you leave.”

“Sorry, that won’t work.”

“Sure, it will. I’ll twist the faucet and the water will come pouring out.”

“Come on, Erin, don’t make me kick you out.”

“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” she asked, feeling hurt.

“I’m trying to be tactful. Now, come on, get dressed.”

Erin walked down the stairs slowly, the cool morning air brushing her face as she stepped outside.

The pool was shining in the early light. It was huge with a beautifully manicured lawn and plantings. Deck chairs lined the walkway.

His world was so different from hers. She wondered how it would feel to wake up to this view every morning. Celina could learn to swim. She couldn’t imagine how much his rent must be. He could do anything he wanted. He could get on a plane and fly to San Francisco. He could buy her darling clothes in Paris. She would no longer worry about money, and she’d never have to clip another coupon. Maybe they could take a cruise ship to the Bahamas or spend a week in Hawaii. What a world it would become!

The street was quiet, the sun just beginning to warm the tops of the mesquite trees. She paused beside her car, her hand resting on the door handle, and let herself breathe.

‘You did well. You got inside. You got him to let you stay. That is more than you expected.’

She opened the door but did not get in. She looked back toward the apartment building, her expression softening, then tightening again.

‘He is still angry. Still hurt. Still holding on to the past like it is a shield. But he let you in. He always lets you in.’

She sat in the driver’s seat and closed the door, gripping the steering wheel.

‘Rico never let you in. Not really. He wanted a wife who stayed home and kept quiet. He wanted a girl, not a woman. He wanted someone who would not argue, who would not dream, who would not want more.’

Her jaw tightened.

‘You tried. You tried for years. You stayed home with Celina. You cooked. You cleaned. You did everything he said a good wife should do. And he still found reasons to be angry. He still found ways to make you feel small.’

She looked down at her hands, remembering the last fight, the shouting, the slammed doors, the way Celina had cried.

‘You should have left sooner. You should have left before you had to move back into your mother’s house. Before you had to sleep in your old bedroom with the peeling wallpaper and the broken dresser. Before you had to ask your mother for money.’

She started the engine but did not pull away.

‘You cannot go back to that. You cannot keep living like that. You need something better. Celina needs something better.’

Her thoughts drifted back to Colin’s office at City Hall, the framed certificates, the neat desk, the quiet authority he carried even when he was angry.

‘He has a good job. He has a future. He has stability. He has everything Rico never had and never will have.’

She leaned back in the seat, letting the engine idle. There was a pleasant tenderness between her legs. Colin was a stud. She had enjoyed the sex, and was looking forward to more of it, but she didn’t kid herself that it was love.

‘You do not believe in love anymore. Not after Rico. Not after the years you wasted. But you do believe in survival. You believe in giving your daughter a life that is not full of shouting and disappointment.’

She closed her eyes for a moment.

‘Colin loved you once. He wanted to marry you. He would have given you everything. You were stupid to walk away. You were young and rash, and you thought you could do better. You were wrong.’

She opened her eyes, her expression sharpening with resolve.

‘But you have another chance now. You can fix what you broke. You can make him see you again. You can make him remember how much he wanted you. He wanted you last night. Once you got him started, he was wild as a bull elk. That’s what you have to work on.’

She put the car into first. The old gears made a grinding sound and the car rolled forward with a lurch.

‘He thinks he is in control. He thinks he can keep you at arm’s length. But he cannot. Not forever. Not once you remind him of what you had.’

She pulled away from the curb, her determination settling into something cold and steady.

‘You will make this work. For yourself. For Celina. For the life you should have had.’

She drove off, already planning her next move.

            *           *           *

Erin slipped quietly into the house a little after eight, the morning sun already bright through the kitchen window. The smell of coffee hung in the air. Her mother sat at the small table in her robe, hands wrapped around a mug she had probably reheated twice. Helen’s expression was tight, her mouth a thin line.

“Where have you been?” Helen asked. “Celina had to go to bible study. I had to drive her. You know I do not like driving in the morning. My eyes are not good anymore.”

Erin winced. “I know. I am sorry. I should have called.”

“You should have been here,” Helen said. “You cannot stay out all night without telling me. I was worried sick. Celina was worried too.”

Erin set her purse down and took a breath. “I was with Colin Becker.”

Helen’s anger vanished instantly. Her shoulders loosened, her face softening as if someone had let the air out of her frustration.

“Oh,” she said. “Well. That is different.”

Erin blinked. “Different how?”

Helen pushed her mug aside and stood slowly. “Colin was the best boy you ever dated. The best. I always said that. I never liked Frederico. Not from the first moment I saw him. Too proud. Too sharp. Too much temper.”

Erin looked down at the table.

“You have a chance now,” Helen said. “A real chance. If Colin wants you back, you should grab him. Do not make the same mistake twice.”

‘She thinks it is that simple. She thinks I can just walk back into his life and everything will fall into place.’

Helen stepped closer and touched her arm. “He was good to you. He would be good to Celina. You know that.”

Erin swallowed. “I know.”

‘And that is why I cannot lose him. Not this time.’

Helen gave her a small, hopeful smile. “Then do not let him slip away again.”

Erin nodded, though her stomach twisted. She took the envelope with the loan money out of her purse and showed it to her mother. The bills were folded neatly.

“He gave you money?” her mother asked.

“It’s a loan.”

“Well, that’s a start. That’s something you can build on.”

Erin had Colin’s attention again. She had her mother’s approval. She had a plan.

But she also had a problem.

‘He is not the same boy I left. And I am not the same girl he loved.’

She forced a smile for her mother’s sake.

“I will not let him slip away,” she said.

            *           *           *

Helen’s smile faded. She looked toward the counter, then back at Erin.

“Colin loaned you two hundred dollars,” she said quietly. “That was generous of him.”

Erin frowned. “Mom… what’s wrong?”

Helen hesitated, then sighed. “It’s not enough. Not nearly enough. The bills have piled up and we have no food. My car is low on gas. I just don’t know what we’re going to do.”

A cold tightness formed in Erin’s stomach.

“Let me see,” she said.

Helen went to the hall closet and returned with an old brown shoe box. She set it on the table and tipped it over. A spill of envelopes, notices, and receipts scattered across the worn Formica. The faint smell of paper and dust drifted up.

Helen shook her head and left the room.

Erin sat down and began sorting through the bills. Tucson Electric Power. City Water. Mountain Bell. Trash collection. Car insurance. All neatly grouped, all overdue.

She picked up the TEP envelope. August: $36. September: $80, with $36 past due. A red warning threatened disconnection.

‘We can’t lose electricity. Mom can’t handle that. Celina can’t handle that.’

Erin wrote a check for the $36 due in August, hoping the company would think the new bill and the payment had crossed in the mail. She repeated the trick with five more envelopes, paying the smallest past‑due amounts, buying time.

Helen returned. “Any luck?”

“Some,” Erin said. “But I’m still a hundred dollars short.”

Helen sighed. “I guess you’ll just have to put it on the street.”

“Mom!”

Helen shrugged. “It was just something we used to say in school.”

“Do you really think anyone would pay me a hundred dollars to sleep with them?”

“Well,” her mother said with a sly grin, “Colin just paid you two hundred.”

Erin flushed. “That will be quite enough of that.”

Helen softened. “I have a friend at work. She might give me a loan. It won’t solve everything, but it will give us breathing space.”

Erin nodded slowly.

‘Breathing space. That’s all we ever get.’

            *           *           *

Friday morning, Erin was sitting at the kitchen table, the stack of bills pushed neatly to one side. She had fended off the crisis the week before, but it kept coming back. Every trip to the mailbox was a terror. People wanted their money. Threats were commonplace. She always had to choose between buying food or risking the electricity being turned off.

The phone rang. The sound startled her; it was sharp and metallic, the old Mountain Bell wall phone rattling slightly against its mount. Her mother looked up from the sink, eyebrows raised.

Erin hurried over and picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

Colin’s voice came through, calm and steady. “It’s me.”

Her stomach tightened. “Hi.”

“I’m coming by tonight,” he said. “Seven o’clock.”

Erin blinked. “Tonight?”

“Yes. Be outside. In front of your house.”

She hesitated. “Do you want to come in for a minute? My mother . . . ”

“No,” he said, cutting her off. “I’m not coming in.”

Erin felt her cheeks warm. “It would only take a second. She’d like to see you.”

“I said no,” Colin replied. His tone wasn’t cruel, but it was firm. Final. “Be outside at seven.”

She swallowed. “Colin, I . . . ”

“Seven,” he repeated. “Don’t make me wait.”

The line clicked. He had hung up.

Erin stood there holding the receiver, listening to the empty hum of the dial tone. Her mother turned from the sink, drying her hands on a towel.

“Who was that?”

“Colin,” Erin said softly.

Helen’s expression brightened. “Is he coming over?”

“No,” Erin said. “He wants me to meet him outside.”

Her mother frowned. “Outside? Why?”

Erin replaced the receiver on the hook. “He doesn’t want to come in.”

Helen looked puzzled. “Why not?”

Erin didn’t answer. She walked back to the table and sat down, her fingers brushing the edge of the shoe box. The kitchen felt suddenly smaller, the air heavier.

‘He doesn’t want to see her. He doesn’t want to step inside this house. He doesn’t want to be part of this life. He wants me outside, waiting like a girl sneaking out.’

Her mother sat across from her. “Well… maybe he’s shy.”

Erin almost laughed. “Colin is not shy.”

Helen shrugged. “Then maybe he just wants to talk to you alone.”

Erin nodded, though her stomach twisted. She knew better. Colin wasn’t avoiding her mother because he was shy. He was avoiding her mother because he didn’t want to be pulled into anything. He didn’t want expectations. He didn’t want commitment. He didn’t want to be seen as a boyfriend, or a future husband, or anything that required responsibility.

He wanted control.

He wanted distance.

He wanted her to bend.

‘This is a test. He wants to see if I’ll do it. If I’ll wait outside like a teenager. If I’ll obey. If I’ll let him set the terms.’

She looked at the clock on the wall. It was only ten in the morning. Seven felt far away, but the thought of it made her chest tighten.

‘You can’t say no. Not now. Not after last week. Not after the loan. Not after everything you told yourself in the car. You need him. You need him more than he needs you.’

Her mother reached over and touched her hand. “You’ll look nice,” she said. “Wear something pretty. He always liked you in lace.”

Erin forced a smile. “I’ll figure something out.”

Helen stood and poured herself more coffee. The smell drifted through the kitchen, warm and bitter.

Erin stared at the bills again, the red warnings, the overdue notices, the weight of them pressing down on her.

‘You cannot lose him. Not this time. If he wants you outside at seven, you will be outside at seven. If he wants distance, you will give him distance. If he wants control, you will let him have it. You can fix this. You can make him see you again.’

She stood slowly, her legs feeling unsteady.

‘He thinks he’s testing you. He thinks he’s in control. But you can use this. You can turn it. You can make him remember what you were. What you had. What he wanted.’

She walked toward her bedroom, already planning what she would wear, how she would stand, how she would smile when he pulled up.

‘Seven o’clock. Outside. Waiting.’

She would be there.

            *           *           *

Colin pulled up in front of Erin’s house at exactly seven. The sky was turning violet, the last of the heat fading from the pavement. She was already standing on the curb; her arms folded lightly across her stomach.

She wore a white lace top and black tights, her hair bright and dramatic in the evening light. She looked like she had been waiting for a long time. When she saw him, she dropped her arms to her sides and stepped to the street.

Good, he thought. She had done what he asked.

She walked toward the car with a careful expression, trying to look pleasant, trying not to show irritation. He could see it anyway. Her eyes were too bright, her mouth too tight. She opened the passenger door and slid in, smoothing her top as she settled.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi.”

He pulled away from the curb. The street was quiet, the mesquite trees dark against the sky. Erin looked straight ahead, her jaw set. She kept her hands folded in her lap, fingers pressed together. She did not look at him. She stared out the window as they drove, her expression composed but strained.

She was angry that he had made her wait outside. She was angry that he had refused to come in. She was angry that he had hung up on her. She was angry that she had obeyed anyway.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was trying to be calm. She was trying to be agreeable. She was trying to be the Erin he used to know, the Erin who wanted to please him, the Erin who wanted to be wanted.

She was bending. That was what mattered.

When they reached his apartment, she followed him inside without speaking. The moment she stepped through the door, she paused. He could see that she liked the way the cool air washed over her in a steady, comforting chill from the air conditioner. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting it settle over her skin. He saw her shoulders relax. She considered air conditioning a luxury. He knew that. He watched her take it in, watched her soften.

He walked to the kitchen counter and picked up the bottle of bourbon and the bottle of Coca Cola he had set out earlier. He poured the drink into a glass and handed it to her.

She looked at it for a moment, then looked at him. Something changed in her face.

“You remembered,” she said quietly.

“Of course.”

She took a sip. Her shoulders relaxed even more. She sat down on the couch, holding the glass with both hands. The lace on her sleeves brushed lightly against her wrists. She let out a slow breath.

“That feels nice,” she said. “My stomach feels warm.”

He sat beside her, not too close. She took another sip and leaned back, her expression loosening. The anger was gone. The tension was gone. She looked almost peaceful.

“Do you want another?” he asked.

She nodded. “Yes. The first one made me feel warm. I like that.”

He stood and poured her a second drink. When he handed it to her, she smiled in a way she had not smiled earlier. It was small and genuine; the kind of smile she used to give him when they were young.

She took a sip and looked at him with a softness that made her seem younger than she was. “Thank you,” she said.

He sat down again. The room was quiet except for the steady hum of the air conditioner. Erin rested her glass on her knee and looked around the apartment as if she were remembering something. Her hair caught the light, bright and striking against the muted colors of her clothes.

She turned back to him. “I am glad you called,” she said.

He watched her for a moment. She was bending. She was warming. She was remembering. The test had worked.

He leaned back slightly, letting the quiet settle between them. She sipped her drink and waited for him to speak, her eyes steady on his face.

He did not speak. He let her wait.

And she did.

He put his arm around her shoulders.

She leaned forward, put her drink down on the coffee table and turned to face him.

The light shined through her hair making it the color of cinnamon. Her perfume was a subtle mixture of floral and lemon. The lace texture of her blouse was tactile, soft and delicate. The raised mesh was slightly crisp and contrasted with the buttery smooth softness of her breasts as he caressed them.

She moaned and slid over closer to him.

“I’ve missed you so much,” she whispered in his ear. The gentle whiff of her breath sent a thrill down his spine. He didn’t feel affection or tenderness toward this woman, but he did have a powerful physiological reaction. When they were young, he’d thought it was love. Now, older with the scars to prove it, he recognized it as just an animal response to a physical stimulation.

But recognition did not mean restraint.

He didn’t worship her anymore, but he did want her.

And she wanted him.

            *           *           *

Saturday morning, Erin woke up and for a moment she didn’t know where she was. Light streamed in from the windows to the south. That wasn’t right. The windows in her bedroom faced west. Then it all came back. Too much bourbon and Coke. Colin’s hands moving over her body. His arms lifting her and dumping her on the bed in frantic haste, the room a blur, her own arms encircling his broad shoulders.

Her vision had cleared. She could see the gray blades of the ceiling fan contrasting with the freshly painted walls. The drapes looked new and expensive. She wondered if Colin had hired a decorator. He had never been one for frills. In Santa Fe, he’d aways said his apartment was better than an army barracks, but he had changed.

Speaking of Colin, where was he? She reached out her hand and slid it over the silky pillowcase where his head had lain. She felt the satiny sheets slide across her thighs as she sat up. Her slacks had been tossed across the room and lay next to her torn panties. Her lovely white lace blouse and bra were bunched up and distributed about the floor with various articles of male clothing.

She pushed a tangle of untidy hair out of her face as Colin came back into the bedroom.

“Good morning,” she said.

“It’s almost afternoon,” he said.

“You wore me out,” she remarked hoping he would come back to bed and take her in his arms. “It was nice.”

“It was many things,” he growled, “But it wasn’t nice.”

“Are you having regrets?” she asked, genuinely surprised. “You seemed to like it.”

“Why don’t you get dressed?” he said as he turned and walked out of the room. “Then we can talk.”

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath as she got up.

‘I hoped he would loosen up. This is going to be harder than I thought.’

“Are you satisfied?” he demanded when she came into the living room. “Do you feel irresistible and seductive? Do you think you’re in control?”

“I must say,” she commented. “This isn’t the reaction I expected.”

“What did you expect?” he demanded. “Candy and flowers? You have come into my life and turned everything upside down. We’re not kids anymore. It’s not enough to look all lovely and romantic and make me feel warm inside. You’re putting on a show. Isn’t that right?”

“No,” she said, trying to control her anger. “I love you, Colin. Why is that so hard for you to believe?”

“You’ve said that before. You didn’t give a damn about me. I was just something handy for you to use while you were waiting for graduate school to begin. You couldn’t wait to get to Texas.”

“I was just a kid. You just said that yourself. I made mistakes. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry. That’s it? That’s how you plan to fix everything?”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I told you what to do. Call the City Attorney. Go down to City Hall and file a complaint. Go anywhere and do anything besides fucking up my life again.”

“You called me, remember? You told me to wait outside, and you would pick me up. I just did what you asked.”

He licked his lips and took a deep breath. “That doesn’t make me feel any better. Maybe that’s the worst part of this whole thing.”

“I know,” she whispered.

“You don’t know shit,” he snapped. “You know what you want. You always have. What about what I want? Did you ever think of that?”

“What do you want?” she asked, sensing an opening.

“I don’t know. I want you out of my life, but I can’t seem to make that happen.”

She went over to him. He tried to turn away, tried to refuse her, but the dam had broken and he reluctantly let her take him in her arms and kiss him.

“It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s okay. I know it’s hard. It’s hard for me too. But we can do this. We can do it together.”

“I guess,” he said softly.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, reaching out to touch his cheek.

“You could brush your hair.”

“What? My hair?”

“It looks like a rat’s nest. It would be easier to be mad at you if you didn’t look so adorable.”

“It’s a deal,” she said and for the first time that morning, she felt confident. If he could joke about it, it couldn’t be too bad.

She went into the bathroom and took a good deal of care to make herself presentable.

When she came out, he was making breakfast. She smelled bacon and toast.

“No coffee?” she asked, giving him her warmest smile.

“I hate coffee. You know that.”

“I forgot. I’m not really human until I’ve had my second cup. I guess you’ll just have to start stocking it for me.”

She said it casually but watched him closely to see if he would object to the implication. Would he mind if she was planning to be here often?

His expression didn’t change and that encouraged her to bring up a new topic.

“Colin?”

“Yes?” he said, turning away from the stove to look at her.

“There is one thing you can do for me.”

“What is that?”

“You got a little rough last night. I told you to slow down. I would have taken it off but you just couldn’t wait. You are hard on my very limited wardrobe. You tore my blouse and I was going to wear it to a job interview on Monday. I hate to ask, but would it be possible for you to pay for the damage?”

“I didn’t realize that I tore it,” he said, looking embarrassed.

“You didn’t mean to,” she said quickly. “You just got carried away. We both did. I shouldn’t ask, but I finally got a job interview, it’s a good job, and I don’t have anything else to wear. I’ve been trying to make everything stretch, but it’s been rough.”

“I have to say,” he stated. “I find it distasteful for you to bring up money every time we have sex.”

“What?” she demanded, losing control of her temper at last. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t shout at me,” he said, raising a palm in a comforting gesture. “I didn’t phrase it right. I didn’t mean it the way you took it.”

“How did you mean it?”

“I meant that you shouldn’t have to ask. Money is not one of our problems. God knows we have a lot of them, but not money. I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you a check for a thousand dollars. That should cover any damage, at least for a while.”

“A thousand dollars? Colin, you know perfectly well that my entire wardrobe didn’t cost a thousand dollars.”

“Like I said, money isn’t a problem. Take it and we won’t have to talk about it anymore.”

“That’s very generous,” she said as her fingers closed around the check as if it were something alive. She felt her heartbeat in her throat. For a moment she couldn’t move. The morning light through the kitchen window softened into a watercolor blur, amber smearing into gold.

‘This will solve so many problems,’ she thought as the relief hit her hard. ‘Mom won’t have to worry. We can pay all the bills. I can buy Celina a new dress.’

This money was oxygen. It was a door swinging open. It was the world loosening its grip on her throat.

She looked at Colin and felt a dizzying wave of relief. And there was something else, something she didn’t expect. She had been thinking of him as a tool she could use, but his generosity was overwhelming. She felt a soft warm gratitude that was disarming.

Then, almost as quickly, she felt suspicion. What did he think he was buying? Her instincts flared like warning lights. No one gave that much money without expecting something in return. She looked up at Colin. His face looked gentle, almost tender, and that frightened her more than any overdue bill. Kindness this large had teeth. She felt them already, brushing the edge of her ribs.

Erin took the check and slipped it into her purse. She gathered her things, smoothing her lace sleeve as if that small gesture could steady her. Colin locked the door behind them. “Ready to go?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” she said. Her voice sounded normal, almost calm, which surprised her.

They walked down the steps toward the parking lot. The air smelled faintly of dust and warm concrete. Erin kept her eyes forward, but her thoughts churned.

‘A thousand dollars. He just handed it to me as if it were nothing. What kind of man does that on a second date?’

Colin opened the passenger door for her. “You’ll be fine now,” he said. “At least for a while.”

She sat down, her purse heavy on her lap. “It helps,” she said. “More than you know.”

‘It solves everything for a week, maybe two. Groceries, the shutoff notice, the interview clothes. But why would he give me so much? What does he expect from me?’

Colin started the engine. “I didn’t want you to worry anymore,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to.”

She looked out the window at the dim parking lot. “It was generous,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

‘Generous, yes, but generosity this big has a shadow. Nobody gives without wanting something. Is he trying to pull me back? Trying to make me need him? Trying to buy a place in my life?’

Colin pulled onto the road. “You deserve a break,” he said. “Besides, it’s for me too. This way we won’t have to talk about money anymore.”

Erin folded her hands tightly. “I appreciate it,” she said.

‘And now I owe him. I didn’t expect this.’

            *           *           *

Erin sat at the small kitchen table with her mother, the check resting between them like a fragile secret.

Helen reached for it with trembling fingers and stared at the amount. “A thousand dollars? Erin, do you understand what this means?”

Erin folded her hands together. “I understand he wanted to help. That is all I know.”

Helen shook her head slowly. “No, sweetheart. This is more than help. A hundred dollars would be help.

This is care. This is a man thinking about you, worrying about you, wanting you safe.”

‘Wanting me safe feels good. It feels warm. It feels like something I have wanted for years. But what comes after safety? What comes after the check?’

Helen set the check down and looked at her daughter with soft, wet eyes. “Colin still cares. I knew it. I knew he would not walk away from you. You cannot lose him. He is the best boy you ever met.”

Erin felt her throat tighten. “Mom, wanting someone does not erase the fear. You know what happened before. You know how quickly care can turn into control.”

Helen leaned back in her chair. “Is that what you think Colin is doing? Controlling you? Erin, he gave you money because he was worried. That is not control. That is kindness.”

‘Kindness can turn. Kindness can shift. Kindness can become a cage if I am not careful. I want him, yes, but I want myself too. I cannot lose myself again.’

Erin rubbed her thumb along the edge of the table. “I want him to love me. I want him to choose me. I want him to marry me someday. But I do not want to be pulled into something before I know what it is.”

Helen’s eyes widened. “Then talk to him. Tell him what you want. Tell him what scares you. Do you think he will not listen?”

Erin looked toward the window. “I do not know. He listens, but he also decides. He likes to take charge. He likes to fix things. What happens when he decides something I do not want?”

Helen reached across the table and took her hand. “You are stronger now. You are wiser. You will not let anyone run your life again. You can have love without losing yourself.”

‘Can I? Can I trust myself to see the difference? Can I trust him to let me breathe? I want him, but wanting him feels dangerous.’

Erin squeezed her mother’s hand. “You think I should call him?”

Helen nodded. “Yes. Call him. Thank him. Tell him you appreciate what he did. Do not let fear make your choices for you.”

Erin breathed out slowly. “I will think about it.”

Helen smiled gently. “You always think too long, sweetheart. Sometimes you need to act.”

‘Acting could bring him closer. Acting could bring everything I want. Acting could also bring everything I fear.’

Chapter 4 – Tests

Erin was folding laundry on her bed when the phone rang. She hurried to the kitchen and grabbed it quickly, hoping it was a job lead, but her heart jumped when she heard his voice.

“Erin? It’s Colin.”

She sat down hard on the edge of a wooden chair. It had been four days since she’d called him and she was beginning to worry that he would never call back.

“Colin. Hi.”

‘He called. He actually called. I shouldn’t have worried. Do not sound too eager. Slow down. Breathe.’

“I was wondering,” he said, “If you would like to have dinner Friday night.”

Her pulse fluttered. “Dinner? Yes. I mean… yes, that sounds nice.”

‘Say yes. Say yes before he changes his mind. God, I have missed him.’

There was a pause, warm and steady on his end.

“I thought we could go somewhere quiet,” he said. “Maybe that place on Speedway.”

Her stomach tightened. “Out? You mean… out out?”

“Yes,” he said. “Out.”

She twisted the phone cord around her fingers.

Where did you want to go?”

“La Hacienda.”

“Oh, no, Colin. Rico goes to La Hacienda all the time. He will be told we were there. He might even be there himself.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t want a scene. I’ve had too many of those already. I was thinking,” she said carefully, “Maybe we could stay at your place instead. Just the two of us. It would be quieter.”

‘He cannot see me in public. Not yet. If Rico finds out, he will make trouble. He always makes trouble. I do not need that. Not now. Not when I am this close.’

Colin’s voice stayed calm. “I would rather go to La Hacienda. I like it.”

She swallowed. “I just… I am not ready to be seen there with someone. Not yet.”

‘Not ready to be seen with him. Not ready for the questions. Not ready for the gossip. Not ready for Rico to hear something and show up yelling in the driveway again.’

“It is only dinner,” Colin said. “Nothing dramatic.”

“It could be,” she said softly. “If you and Rico are in the same room, I can’t even guess what might happen.”

‘If Rico finds out, he will explode. He will drag his feet on the divorce even more. He will make my life hell. I cannot let that happen. I need to focus on Colin. I need to keep this clean.’

Colin waited. She could hear him breathing, steady and patient.

“Listen, Collin, I’m going to be in your neighborhood on Friday. If you’re going to insist on dinner out, at least let me drive over myself. Why don’t I just stop by and save you the trip.”

“That’s okay,” he said, “I want to pick you up.”

She didn’t want to ride in his truck. If he drove her to his apartment, she would be trapped there until he decided to bring her back. If she drove her car, she could leave if he became unbearable.

“But, darling, it’s no trouble for me to drive over. I can be there at seven.”

“No. I would rather pick you up.”

Her shoulders sagged. She knew that tone. He was not going to bend.

‘He is testing me again. He wants to see if I will push back. If I will fight him. If I will obey. He always did know how to pin me in place with just a few words. Mother said to agree with him. He did give me the thousand dollars.’

“All right,” she said finally. “I’ll be ready.”

“Good,” he said. “I will pick you up at seven.”

She nodded even though he could not see it. “Seven is fine.”

‘You can do this. You can handle Rico. You can handle the looks. You can handle anything if it means getting Colin back.’

“See you then,” he said.

“See you,” she whispered.

When she hung up, she sat still for a long moment, the phone resting in her lap.

            *           *           *

Colin unlocked the door and stepped inside first. Erin followed him, feeling the cool air from the conditioner settle over her skin. She stepped into Colin’s apartment just as the last streaks of sunlight slid across the carpet.

“I thought you wanted to go out to dinner,” she said. “You made a federal case out of it.”

“I thought you wanted to stay in,” he said. He walked to the counter and poured bourbon and Coca Cola into a glass without asking her if she wanted one. His movements were sharp and impatient. Erin watched him pour the drinks. The liquid caught the last bit of sunlight and glowed like molten amber.

He handed it to her and sat down on the couch. She drained it in three large gulps and got up to make another. As she came back from the kitchen, she could feel the first drink warming her stomach.

The only light came from a small lamp near the wall. It cast long shadows across his face, making him look older and more tired than she remembered.

She had picked out a white top that left her right shoulder bare. She had pinned up her hair in an elaborate arrangement that framed her face and made her look taller. She looked rather fetching it she did say so herself.

She took another gulp as she sat beside him. The room was quiet except for the steady hum of the air conditioner. She could feel her irritation rising again. She had tried to sound breezy on the phone. She had tried to make it seem natural that she would be in his neighborhood. She had tried to persuade him to stay in. He had refused everything. Then, he brought her here. She wondered if he was just doing it to exasperate her.

‘Why does he have to be so difficult?’

She took another long drink. The liquor made her feel warm and loose. Her hair had fallen down over her shoulders, and she pushed it back, annoyed that it would not stay in place. She took off her headband and tossed it on the coffee table. She smiled at him.

He was sitting with his arms resting on his knees, watching her with a calm expression that made her feel even more unsettled.

“Why do you have to treat me like this?” she asked. “Why do you have to order me around?”

He did not answer. He watched her quietly.

Outside, there were no sounds. It felt as if they were in a space capsule hurtling past the far side of the moon.

She took another long drink. Then her glass was empty again.

“I am not twenty-two anymore,” she said as she got up to make another drink. “I am not some girl who has nothing better to do. Why do you talk to me like I am supposed to obey you? Why couldn’t you tell me we weren’t going out to dinner? Why do you always have to be in control?”

The ice clinked into her glass. The bourbon made a gurgling sound as she filled her glass to the rim. She picked it up carefully and took a sip to lower the liquid and make it safe to carry.

He leaned back slightly. “You are the one who came after me. You are the one who tried to tell me how the evening would go.”

She felt her face heat. “I was trying to be nice. I was trying to make things easier. Why do you have to make everything so hard?”

She took another drink, the ice cold against her lips.

He looked at her with a steady, unreadable expression. “Are you angry?”

“Yes, I am angry,” she said. “You treat me like I am a child. You tell me when to be ready. You tell me where to stand. You tell me what we are doing. Why do you think you can do that?”

His expression changed. It was small, but she saw it. A tightening around his eyes. A shift in his jaw. A quiet flare of anger.

She felt her stomach drop. This was not going the way she had planned.

‘Do not make him angry. You cannot lose him again.’

She swallowed. “I did not mean it like that. I was just talking. I’ve had a little too much to drink. I am fine.”

Her voice sounded light and breezy, but she knew it was false. He knew it too. He looked at her as if he were seeing straight through her.

“You are trying to tell me how the evening should go,” he said. “Why?”

She shook her head quickly. “I was not. I was just talking. I was trying to be friendly.”

He watched her for a long moment. His anger did not rise. He did not raise his voice. He did not snap at her. He was not the twenty-two-year-old who used to react without thinking. He was older now. He was controlled. He was more curious than cross. That frightened her.

She felt her breath catch. He was studying her. He was trying to understand her. He was trying to see what she was really doing.

‘He knows I am up to something. He thinks I am trying to get control. He thinks I am trying to change him.’

She took another gulp. The alcohol made her feel warm and dizzy. Her hair slipped forward again, and she brushed it back. Her nose felt shiny, and she wished she had powdered it before she left the house. She looked at him. His eyes were steady on her face.

“You always do this,” he snapped. “You’re the one who always needs to be in control. I think it’s because you parents spoiled you.”

“They did not spoil me!”

“Give me a break. You always got what you wanted. Your mother slaved over you, making special food and altering your clothes. Your father treated you like a princess.”

“They loved me.”

“They overindulged you. You got the impression that you were special, that the world owed you something.”

He stood up and paced across the room. The shadows stretched and twisted with his movements. The last bit of sunlight disappeared completely, leaving the apartment in a dim tawny haze.

“What about you?” she demanded. “When you got out of the Army, you walked around with a chip on your shoulder. You were always spoiling for a fight, just like you are right now.”

“I’m not spoiling for a fight. I’m just tired of you trying to boss me around.”

“You’re just thin-skinned and testy. You’re still mad that I left you in Santa Fe.”

“Damned right I am.”

“Get over it. For God’s sake. That was ten years ago.”

“You told me you loved me. You told me you wanted to marry me. Then you dumped me like a piece of garbage.”

“I never said I would marry you. I told you from the very beginning I was going to study French Lit. in Texas.”

He leaned forward. “You left me alone in that place.”

His voice rose suddenly. It startled her. The words hit her like a slap.

“You left me alone in that shit hole,” he shouted.

The lamp flickered. Erin felt her pulse jump. She took a drink to steady herself. The whiskey burned her throat and warmed her chest. The walls seemed to move in. The air looked hazy until she realized it was her eyes that were blurry.

‘He is starting. He always starts with blame. He never thinks about what he did to me.’

“You stole money from me,” he shouted. “You took money for your plane ticket, and you promised to give it back if you got to fly standby. Then you kept it. I needed that money for food.”

She slammed her glass down on the coffee table. Liquor splashed out, covering the wood with a glistening pool of dark brown liquid. She wiped it off with the side of her hand flinging it on to the carpet.

“You ran up hundreds of dollars in phone bills. You kept calling me collect.”

“You know I couldn’t make long distance calls from my room.”

“You could have used a phone booth. You didn’t have to dump all the cost on me.”

“I wanted to talk to you. Was that a crime?”

She started to speak but he talked over her.

“I tried everything,” he said. “I tried to stay sane. I tried to stay connected to you. You were the only thing that made sense.”

He walked to the counter and poured another drink. His hands shook slightly. He swallowed the whiskey in one gulp. She saw him step back, almost lose his balance, and turn to face her.

“You think Santa Fe was easy for me,” he said. “You think I wanted to be there.”

“You agreed to move,” she said.

“I agreed because you asked,” he said. “You said it would be a small thing. You said Santa Fe and Tucson were practically the same.”

“They are,” she said.

“They are not,” he said. “Not when you are alone.”

He sat down again. His shoulders slumped. The anger in his face softened for a moment, replaced by something hollow and exhausted.

“You came to see me at Thanksgiving,” she said. “You wouldn’t even sleep with me. I put on my sexist little nightie made of black cobwebs and brushed my hair ‘til it shined. I put on powder and cream and perfume. I rubbed against you and took you into my bed, and you acted like I had solicited you on a street corner. You were offended for God’s sake. You made me feel like a slut.”

“You were just trying to cover up for the fact that you were sleeping with other guys. You got on the pill, and you went wild. You thought I was too dumb to know what was going on. You thought you could cover.”

Erin looked at him. The lamp light caught the edge of his jaw and made it look sharp and tense.

Suddenly, she was very sober.

“That’s why you refused me?” she asked. “You knew?”

“I knew.”

“All these years I thought. . . “

“What did you think?”

“I thought you didn’t want me. I thought you were disgusted.”

“I was hurt. You wouldn’t sleep with me, but you had no problems with the guys at UT Austin.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t do it to hurt you. I thought you’d never find out.”

“It was hard not to notice. That one guy came after you while you were still in the parking lot, unpacking. Then there were all the times you couldn’t come to the phone. The whole time we were in Santa Fe, you were terrified of getting pregnant. Suddenly, in your dorm room you were ready to go all the way. I’m stupid, but I’m not that stupid.”

“You’re stupid enough. I want you now. Can’t you see that? I’m trying to make it work and all you can do is yell at me and boss me around and . . . “

She looked at him. His eyes were glassy from the alcohol. His shoulders sagged. He looked like a man who had been carrying too much for too long.

“You wanted me to fix you,” she said.

He shook his head. “I wanted you to stay.”

She felt her throat tighten. She looked down at her glass. The whiskey swirled slowly.

“You wanted me to stay in a life that was crushing me,” she said.

He leaned forward. “You could have stayed.”

She looked up at him. “I could not.”

The lamp flickered again. The shadows shifted across the walls like restless shapes.

‘He is breaking. He is unraveling. He is still angry, but he is also lost.’

Colin took another drink. His voice was quieter now. “I thought you would come back.”

The room felt heavy with everything they had never said. The whiskey made their words sharper and their emotions brighter. The darkness outside pressed against the windows. The lamp cast a small circle of light around them, as if the rest of the world had disappeared.

Suddenly, he sprang to his feet.

“God damn you,” he shouted. “You left me. You abandoned me and hurt me worse than anyone ever hurt me in my life. Now you think you can waltz back in here and I’ll take you back?”

His face was so enraged it frightened her.

He grabbed her

He wrenched her top over her head, ruining her hairdo. Her fear evaporated when she realized what he intended to do. Her excitement soon matched his and she began tearing away his shirt. He picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. The rest of their clothing came off.

Then he was inside her and she had wrapped both her thighs around his hips.

“Oh, God,” she cried. “Yes. Oh, Yes. Right there. Right there!”

After they finished, they fell onto the bed and went into a deep, restorative slumber that felt like coming home at last.

Chapter 5 – The Dress

Friday night, they were standing in his living room, the evening sun slanting through the blinds. Erin had her hands on her hips, her voice rising with each sentence.

She was wearing a long, flowing dress, her stance wide, her chin lifted in challenge. The multicolored dress flowed around her ankles. The fabric moved like something alive, catching the lamplight in shifting reds, blues, greens, and golds.

It was the kind of African print she used to wear all the time when they were young, back when she was majoring in 19^th Century French Literature. She couldn’t stop talking about Gérard de Nerval and Théophile Gautier and how they used North African imagery in their Orientalist works

He knew exactly what she was doing.

‘She is trying to remind you. She is trying to make you see the girl she used to be.’

But the truth was, she did not need to try.

She looked stunning.

He knew it had been a long week, and she’d had plenty of time to plan about how the evening might go.

“I have been thinking,” she said. I still don’t want to go out. Why can’t we just stay here? I like it here. I want a quiet evening. Just the two of us. Remember how much time we spent in your apartment in Santa Fe?”

“We are going out,” Colin said. “I already made reservations.”

“You did not tell me that,” she snapped.

“I did not think I needed to.”

Her eyes flashed. “You cannot just order me around.”

‘Yes, I can. That is the point. I need to see how far you will go.’

He kept his voice calm. “It is dinner, Erin. Not a commandment.”

“It feels like one,” she said. “I am tired. I do not want to be around people. I want to stay here with you. Come on, I’ll fuck your brains out. I’ve always known how to make you happy.”

“You can do that after dinner.”

She shook her head, frustrated. “Why are you pushing this? Why does it matter so much to you?”

‘Because I need to know if you will bend. Because I need to know if you are still the girl who never said no. Because I need to know if you are here for me or for what I can give you.’

“It matters,” he said simply.

She stared at him for a long moment, her jaw tight, her breathing sharp.

“I don’t want to go,” she almost shouted. She looked ready for fight or flight.

He stepped closer.

“You look beautiful,” he said. “I remember the first time I saw you in a dashiki print.”

The defiance vanished instantly. Her shoulders softened. Her mouth trembled into a small, startled smile.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m glad you remember. I’ve been thinking a lot about those days. We were so much in love. We had so much fun.”

He watched her for a moment, taking in the colors, the way the fabric moved when she breathed, the way she seemed to glow in the lamplight.

‘You should not let this get to you. You know what she is doing. You know she is playing on your memories.’

But he could not help it.

She was beautiful.

And she knew it.

She stared at him for a long moment, her jaw tight, her breathing sharp. Then she looked away, defeated.

“Fine,” she said. “We will go out.”

But the way she said it made it clear she was still furious.

Chapter 6 – Dinner

The restaurant was quiet, the kind of place with soft lighting and dark wood tables. Erin sat across from Colin, her hands folded neatly in her lap. She had chosen a seat where she could see the door, a habit she had picked up during the last years with Rico. Colin noticed, but he did not comment.

Colin looked good. She thought the sex agreed with him. His eyes were bright, his shirt crisp, his hair neatly combed, his expression calm and steady. He had always been steady. Her anger was fading away. She didn’t like him telling her what to do, but she had to admit he had chosen a good restaurant.

“Are you comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said. “This is nice.”

‘It is more than nice. It feels safe. I forgot what that felt like.’

The waitress brought their drinks. Erin wrapped her fingers around the cold glass, grounding herself.

Colin studied the menu. “They have good steaks here. And the fish is decent.”

She smiled faintly. “You always knew what to order.”

He looked up at her, and for a moment she felt twenty again, sitting across from him in some cheap diner, laughing at nothing, feeling like the world was wide open.

‘Do not get sentimental. You cannot afford that. But God, he looks good. He always did look good, and now he looks even better. He has always treated you like you mattered. You could do a lot worse.’

She cleared her throat. “I will have whatever you recommend.”

He nodded and placed their order. When the waitress left, he leaned back slightly, watching her with that quiet, unreadable expression she remembered so well.

“You look different tonight,” he said.

She laughed softly. “Older.”

“Different,” he repeated. “Not older.”

Her cheeks warmed. She looked down at her hands.

‘He still talks to me like that. Like I am worth something. Like I am not a burden. Rico never spoke to me that way. None of them did. Only Colin.’

She lifted her eyes again. “You look good too.”

He nodded once, accepting the compliment without preening. He had never been vain.

The food arrived, and they ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Erin watched him cut his steak, the same precise way he always had. She remembered sitting on the back of his dirt bike, her arms around his waist, the wind in her hair. She remembered climbing rocks with him, laughing when she slipped and he caught her. She remembered the way he used to look at her like she was the only girl in the world.

‘You were a fool to leave him. You were young and stupid and chasing excitement. And you found it. You found Rico and his temper and his jealousy and his fists on the table. You found everything you thought you wanted and none of what you needed.’

Colin set down his fork. “You are quiet tonight.”

She forced a small smile. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

She hesitated.

‘Tell him the truth. Just a little. Not too much. But enough.’

“About how Santa Fe was long ago,” she said. “About how different everything feels now.”

He studied her again, his eyes steady, searching.

“Different good or different bad?” he asked.

She swallowed.

‘Say good. Say it because it is true. Say it because you mean it, not because you want something from him.’

“Different good,” she said softly.

His expression softened, just a fraction. Enough to make her chest tighten.

‘You still care about him. You never stopped. You buried it, but it never died. And sitting here with him feels like coming home.’

She reached for her glass, her hand trembling slightly.

Colin noticed. He always noticed.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said quickly. “I am fine.”

‘You are not fine. You are terrified. You want him. You want him more than you want safety or money or a plan. And that scares you more than Rico ever did.’

She took a slow breath.

“I like spending time with you,” she said. “I… I am happy when we’re together.”

He nodded again, calm and steady.

“I like being with you too,” he said.

Her heart fluttered.

‘He means it. He actually means it. And you are in trouble, Erin. Real trouble. Because this man could break you all over again. And you would let him.’

She smiled, small and genuine.

“I wanted to see you too,” she said.

He was quiet as he drove her to his apartment. He held the door open like a gentleman but when they got inside, she saw the expectant rigidity of Colin’s frame, at his suddenly hot eyes and she knew.

He wanted her.

She had not seen it at first. She was too busy worrying about his anger. But then she saw the way he looked at her hair. She saw the way his eyes moved to her mouth. She saw the way he leaned slightly toward her without meaning to.

He wanted her.

The realization came suddenly, like molten pig iron exploding from a blast furnace. She felt her shoulders loosen. She felt her breath ease. She felt her fear melt away replaced by an immediate sexual desire for him. It was a brute impulse to have him take her like a wild bull. His strength and animal virility outweighed any concerns she had for her resentment or anger.

He wanted her and she wanted him.

She smiled. It was small and uncertain at first, but it grew.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked as he opened the bottle of bourbon.

“Love one.”

They sat on the couch. He took a sip of his drink, leaned forward, and placed his glass on the coffee table.

She knew what he was doing. She took a deep swallow, set her glass down, and moved closer to him. She reached out and put her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“I am glad you want me,” she said softly.

He did not pull away.

She held him, relieved, grateful, and warm from the drink, her hair falling down again as she rested her cheek against his shoulder.

Erin had drifted closer to him on the couch, her movements slow and softened by the bourbon. She no longer held herself with the careful posture she had when she first arrived. Her shoulder rested lightly against his arm, and her hair had slipped down over her face in loose waves. She brushed it back once, then let it fall again without concern. Her blouse had settled naturally against her body, shaped by the evening rather than by any deliberate arrangement.

Colin felt the weight of his own drink settling in him. He had poured too much, and the warmth of it had begun to blur the edges of the room. The lamp cast a gentle glow over the couch, turning the air into something quiet and forgiving. Erin’s breathing had slowed. Her eyes were half lidded, her expression calm and open.

She looked up at him. The light touched her face softly. Her nose had a faint shine now, the kind that came at the end of an evening when a woman had stopped worrying about how she appeared. Her lipstick had faded. Her hair was no longer too smooth to touch. Her clothes looked lived in, shaped by her movements instead of by any designer’s idea.

‘She looks real again. Not polished. Not guarded. Not performing. She looks like herself.’

She shifted slightly, her upper leg brushing his. It brought back memories of the time her father had given him a ride in his old truck. The warm damp feel of her thigh against his had haunted his dreams for weeks. This felt the same way. For a moment he wondered if she had done it deliberately to remind him. But the relaxed look on her face told him there was no artifice. She was comfortable around him, cozy with the very human contact.

She rested her hand on the cushion near his leg, her fingers relaxed. She lifted her face toward him with a quiet, searching look, as if she were trying to understand something in him. He felt the moment settle between them, warm and steady.

The irritation he had carried earlier had dissolved. What remained was a slow recognition of her beauty. Not the kind that came from perfect hair or perfect clothes. The kind that came from being softened by the evening, from being tired, from being human.

‘She is still the most beautiful woman in the world. I tried not to think it. I tried to stay distant. But I cannot ignore it now.’

She moved her hand a little closer, letting her fingers rest lightly against his arm. It was a gentle touch, almost hesitant. She watched his face carefully, her eyes steady on him. He could see the question in her expression, even if she did not speak it.

‘She is trying to see what I feel. She is trying to understand me. She is waiting for something.’

He leaned slightly toward her without meaning to. Her eyes widened just a little. She lifted her chin, her face open and hopeful. Her hair slipped forward again, brushing his arm. She did not fix it. She simply looked at him, her expression warm and uncertain.

He took her hand and moved it to his thigh. She did not pull away.

He felt the warmth rise in him. The drink had loosened his thoughts, but the feeling was clear. He wanted her. He wanted her in a way he had tried to ignore. He wanted her in a way that felt familiar and unsettling and inevitable.

‘She still wants me. Even after everything. Even after all the years.’

She shifted closer, closing the small space between them. Her cheek brushed his shoulder. She let it rest there, her breath warm against his shirt. Her hand moved further up his leg, her fingers curling lightly stroking the sensitive flesh of his inner thigh. That too brought back memories.

He did not pull away. He let her settle against him. Her rich full breasts were pressed against his arm. He let her breathe against him. He let the quiet hold them both.

She lifted her face again, looking at him with a small, relieved smile. Her eyes were bright now, softened by the drink and by whatever fear had eased in her. She moved her arms around him, hugging him tightly. Her hair fell against his chest, her cheek warm against him.

“I am glad you want me,” she said again.

He closed his eyes for a moment and let the quiet settle around them, the hum of the air conditioner steady in the background. The evening had softened into something he had not expected but did not resist. She held him, warm and relieved, and he let her.

‘She is here. She is close. She is not fighting me. She is not running. She is holding on.’

Chapter 7 – The Bluff

The next Friday, Colin stood at Helen’s front door and tried to steady himself. He had seen Erin look beautiful before, but when she opened the door in the silver dress, he lost his breath.

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, hoping his voice sounded normal.

Erin smiled and stepped out, the fabric catching the porch light. “Of course. Where are we going tonight?”

“I thought we could try a new place on Tanque Verde. Does that sound good?”

She nodded and walked with him to the truck.

‘He looks nervous. Good. He should be. Tonight is the night. He will either say what I need or I will make him say it.’

Colin opened her door and tried not to stare.

“You look fantastic in that dress,” he said.

“I’m glad you like it. You paid for it.”

“It was worth every penny.”

The drive began quietly, Tucson glowing warm in the evening heat.

Erin brushed her hair back and asked, “How was your day?”

“Busy,” he said. “I kept thinking about tonight. You look incredible. Did you know that?”

She laughed softly. “You are sweet. What made you want dinner here?”

“I just wanted to see you,” he said. “It didn’t really matter where.”

She kept her tone light as they passed the familiar desert streets. “I like when you take me to nice places. It makes me feel special. Do you think about me a lot?”

Colin glanced at her again, dazzled by the shimmer of her dress. “More than I should probably admit. You know that, right?”

“I hope so,” she said, giving him a hard, unreadable look.

Colin watched the waiter walk away and felt the room settle into a warm hush. The restaurant lights glowed amber against the windows, and Erin sat across from him looking spectacular. The silver dress caught every reflection, every flicker of candlelight, every passing shimmer from the street outside. Her hair framed her face in soft waves, and her eyes held something he could not name. He had known her a long time, but he had never seen her look more beautiful.

She folded her hands on the table. “Colin, I need to talk to you.”

He straightened. “What is it?”

Her expression changed. The playful ease she had carried through the drive vanished. “I want to get married. I want to know if you want that with me.”

Colin felt the air shift. Her long red hair, the warm lights, the quiet clink of dishes around them, all of it seemed to sharpen.

“Erin, we have only been seeing each other for a few weeks. Shouldn’t we take our time?”

She leaned forward. “Why should we wait? What are we waiting for?”

He tried to breathe normally. “I just want to be sure we are ready.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Ready for what? Commitment? A future? Are you unsure about me?”

He shook his head. “No. I am not unsure. I just think we should move carefully.”

Erin’s jaw tightened. “Carefully means slowly. Slowly means nothing changes. I will not sit in my mother’s house waiting for you to decide.”

Colin reached for her hand, but she pulled it back. “Erin, please. I am not trying to hurt you.”

She stared at him, her voice low and steady. “Then hear me. Either you marry me, or no more sex. I will not waste my time.”

The words struck him harder than he expected. Her red hair shimmered like molten gold. Her eyes were bright, determined, almost fierce.

He swallowed. “You are giving me an ultimatum?”

“Yes. I am.”

Colin looked at her, really looked at her, the woman he had wanted since they were young, the woman who now sat across from him demanding a future. The restaurant seemed to fade, leaving only her and the impossible choice she had placed between them.

He exhaled slowly. “Erin, I do not want to lose you.”

She held his gaze. “Then don’t.”

Colin watched Erin rise from the table. Her dress caught the warm restaurant lights as she pushed her chair back, and for a moment he could not move. The flicker of her hair, and the determined set of her shoulders struck him with a force he had not expected. He felt the room tilt slightly, as if the air had changed around them.

“Erin, wait. Where are you going?”

She stepped away from the table without answering. Her heels tapped lightly against the polished floor, each step sharp in the quiet space between conversations. Other diners looked up, drawn by the sudden tension. The window beside her framed her in an tawny glow, turning her into a figure of light and shadow.

Colin pushed his chair back and stood. His heart thudded in his chest.

“Erin, please. Come back. We can talk about this.”

She stopped and turned around. Her shoulders lifted with a slow breath. Her eyes shifted with the motion, catching reflections from every candle on every table. When she finally faced him, her face was bright and unwavering.

“Talk about what, Colin?” she asked as she came back to the table. “You did not answer me.”

He stepped closer, careful not to touch her. “I just need time. I did not expect you to ask me that tonight.”

Her expression tightened. The lights caught the edges of her earrings and the curve of her cheek.

“How much time do you need? Weeks? Months? Years? I will not wait forever.”

Colin felt the weight of every word. The restaurant seemed smaller, the air thicker. He could hear the faint clatter of dishes from the kitchen and the murmur of voices around them. Everything pressed in on him.

“Erin, I care about you. You know that.”

She shook her head. “Caring is not enough. I want a future. I want a home. I want a marriage. If you cannot give me that, then we are finished.”

Her voice was steady, but her hands trembled slightly at her sides. The dress glittered with each small movement, making her look like she belonged in a place far more glamorous than this quiet Tucson restaurant.

Colin swallowed hard. “You are asking me to decide everything right now?”

“Yes. I am.”

He looked at her, really looked at her, the woman he had wanted for years, the woman who now stood before him demanding certainty. The room faded until only she remained, fair and fierce and heartbreakingly beautiful.

“Erin,” he said softly, “I do not want to lose you.”

She held his gaze. “Then do not lose me.”

            *           *           *

Colin felt the restaurant closing in around him. Erin stood there with her fist on her hip, her eyes bright and demanding, waiting for him to fold. The candlelight caught the shimmer of the fabric and made her look almost unreal. For a moment he could not breathe. Then the memory hit him.

Mt. Lemmon Lodge. Winter of 1968. The smell of pine and wood smoke. Erin had gotten angry at him for hesitating about something small, something he barely remembered now. She had walked straight to the bar and sat beside a college boy with a letterman jacket. The boy had looked thrilled. Erin had laughed at something he said, her hair falling over her shoulder, her hand resting lightly on the bar. Colin remembered the panic that had rushed through him. He had begged her to come back. He had apologized. He had promised anything she wanted. She had returned to him with a satisfied smile.

He had been twenty. He had been scared to lose her. He had been easy to manipulate.

Now he looked at her again. She stood in the restaurant with the same fire, the same expectation, the same belief that he would cave. The years between then and now settled heavily on him. He was not that boy anymore.

He took a slow breath. “Erin, I am not doing this.”

Her eyes widened. The first crack in her confidence appeared. “You are not?”

“No. I am not.” He kept his voice steady. “I will not be cornered. I will not be pushed into a decision because you are angry.”

The room seemed to fall silent. Erin stood very still, her posture perfect, her expression unreadable. Her long red hair motionless as if she were about to spring into battle.

Colin reached into his wallet. He pulled out two twenties and placed them on the table. The bills lay there neatly, the edges catching the candlelight. He looked at her one last time.

“Enjoy your dinner.”

Her mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

He turned and walked toward the door. The restaurant lights reflected off the windows as he passed. He felt the weight of the moment, the finality of it, but he did not stop. He did not look back. He stepped outside into the warm Tucson night and let the door close behind him.

            *           *           *

Erin stood frozen in the middle of the restaurant. The silver dress that had made her feel powerful a few minutes earlier now felt heavy and foolish. Colin had walked out. He had actually walked out. She stared at the door as it closed behind him, the warm Tucson night swallowing him without hesitation.

Her throat tightened. She had never expected this. Not once. Not for a second. She had believed he would fold the way he had when they were younger.

She had won easily back then.

Now she stood alone in a restaurant with two twenties on the table and no victory at all.

Her stomach dropped. How was she going to get home? She did not have much money left. Most of the thousand dollars Colin had given her weeks ago had already been spent. She had counted on him driving her back. She had counted on him choosing her. She had counted on everything going the way it always had.

A chair scraped nearby. Erin turned and saw a man at the bar watching her. He was too heavy and there was a disgusting pelt of black hair showing in the neck of his Hawaiian shirt. He had been watching her for several minutes. His eyes were too interested, too eager. He pushed himself up and walked toward her with a greasy smile that made her skin crawl.

“Looks like your date left you,” he said. “You need a ride?”

Erin’s heart thudded painfully. She stepped back, her hands tightening at her sides. The man’s smile widened as he came closer. The street lights were mirrored in his glasses, hiding his eyes for a moment, then revealing them again, sharp and hungry.

She felt panic rising. Colin was gone. She had no car. She had no plan. She had no idea what she was going to do. The room felt suddenly too warm, too bright, too full of strangers.

The man reached the edge of her table. “Come on. I can help you.”

Erin swallowed hard. Her voice barely came out. “No. I am fine.”

But she was not fine. She was stranded. She was frightened. She was alone. And for the first time in her life, her bluff had failed completely.

            *           *           *

Erin stood in the restaurant feeling faint. The room felt too bright, too loud, too full of strangers. Colin had walked out. He had actually walked out. Her throat tightened as she stared at the door he had disappeared through. She had never imagined this outcome. Not once. She felt her stomach twist as she looked around, unsure what to do.

‘He left me. He really left me. What am I supposed to do now?’

She approached the hostess stand, her voice barely steady. “Can I use your phone? Please?”

The hostess looked surprised but nodded and handed her the receiver. Erin dialed home with trembling fingers. Helen answered on the second ring. “Erin? Why are you calling? What is wrong?”

“Mom, I need you to come get me,” Erin said. “Please. I am stuck. Colin walked out on me.”

Helen sounded irritated. “I cannot drive at night. You know that. And I cannot leave Celina alone. Why did you let him leave you there?”

Erin closed her eyes. “Please, Mom. I need you. I do not have any money left. I cannot get home.”

There was a long pause. Then Helen sighed sharply. “Fine. I am coming. But you will explain this.”

Erin hung up and waited near the door, her hands clasped tightly. The creepy man at the bar kept glancing at her, and she turned her back to him, praying Helen would hurry.

Helen arrived twenty minutes later, her face tight with anger and worry. She stepped inside and looked Erin up and down.

“What happened? Why did he leave you?”

Erin shook her head. “I do not want to talk about it.”

Helen frowned. “I can guess. You pushed him, did you not?”

Erin felt heat rise in her cheeks. “Mom, please. Can we just go?”

Helen exhaled sharply. “You are driving. I cannot see well at night.”

They walked to the car. Erin slid behind the wheel, her hands still shaking. The headlights cut through the warm Tucson darkness as she pulled onto the road. The desert stretched out around them, low shrubs casting long shadows, the sky deep and starless. The air smelled faintly of dust and pollen.

Helen watched her quietly. “He should not have left you. But you should not have done whatever you did.”

Erin kept her eyes on the road. “I said I do not want to talk about it.”

Helen’s voice softened. “I know you wanted something from him. I know you thought you could make him give it to you. You made a mistake dear. It’s not the end of the world. I have faith in you. I know you’ll find a way to make it right.”

Erin felt a sharp sting in her chest. Helen’s pity was worse than anger. It made her feel small, foolish, exposed.

‘I did not overplay anything. He should have said yes. He should have chosen me.’

She tightened her grip on the wheel. She was furious at Colin for abandoning her. She was furious at herself for letting the moment slip away. But she would never admit that. Not even to herself.

            *           *           *

Colin sat in his living room on Wednesday night, the quiet pressing against him like a weight. He had spent days replaying the moment in the restaurant, the way Erin had stood there with her copper-gold mane, proud and furious, waiting for him to fold. He knew he had made his point. He also knew she had been hurt. He felt the ache of that more than he wanted to admit. He stared at the phone for a long time before finally picking it up.

He dialed Helen’s number. She answered quickly. “Helen speaking.”

“Hi, Helen. It is Colin. May I talk to Erin?”

“Oh, hi Colin. I am so glad you called. Let me get her for you.”

There was a long wait. Colin could hear the television playing in the background.

Helen came back on the line and sighed loudly. “She is being difficult. She has been in her bedroom since Friday night. She refuses to speak to you.”

Colin felt a tightness in his chest. “I see. Thank you for telling me.” He started to lower the phone, ready to end the call.

“Hold on,” Helen said. “Do not hang up.”

He paused. “Yes?”

“You should come over here,” she said. “Right now.”

Colin blinked. “Is that a good idea?”

Helen’s voice sharpened. “I know my daughter. Sometimes there is something she wants to do but will not let herself admit it. She will be happy as soon as she sees you.”

Colin hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Come over. I will handle the rest.”

He agreed quietly and hung up. The decision settled over him with a strange mix of hope and caution. He grabbed his keys and stepped outside. The night air was warm, carrying the faint scent of desert dust. As he drove, the headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating saguaros and low shrubs along the roadside. The sky was a deep indigo, the mountains dark shapes rising against it. He felt his pulse quicken as he turned onto Helen’s street.

Helen opened the door before he could knock. Her expression was firm, almost commanding. “Come in.”

He stepped inside. The house smelled faintly of lemon cleaner and laundry. Helen closed the door behind him.

“She is in her room. Go on.”

Colin looked at her. “Are you sure she wants to see me?”

Helen folded her arms. “She will not admit it, but yes. Go.”

He nodded and walked down the hallway. The familiar family photos lined the walls, their frames catching the soft lamplight. Erin’s door was closed. He paused, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him.

He knocked gently.

“Erin? It is me.”

There was no answer. He tried again. “May I come in?”

Helen called from the living room. “Just go in. She will not bite you.”

Colin turned the knob and stepped inside. Erin sat on the edge of her bed, her hair loose, her eyes red Colin stood just inside the doorway. “Erin,” he said softly, “Can we talk?”

She stared at him, her pride and hurt tangled together, the room warm and still around them.

“Why are you here?” she asked. Her voice was sharp, clipped, cold.

“I wanted to see you,” Colin said. “I thought we should talk.”

“I do not want to talk to you.” She looked away, her chin lifting as if she could hold herself together with posture alone.

Helen appeared in the doorway. “Erin, stop it. He came all this way.”

“Stay out of it,” Erin snapped.

Colin kept his voice calm. “I did not come here to fight.”

“You walked out,” Erin said. “That is on you.”

“I know you were hurt,” Colin replied. “I know this has been difficult.”

“I did nothing wrong,” she said. “You embarrassed me.”

Her jaw tightened. Her hands clenched slightly in her lap. She refused to look at him for more than a second. She looked furious, but beneath it he saw something else. She had missed him. She had been miserable. She would never admit it.

Helen crossed her arms. “He is trying, Erin.”

Erin glared at her mother, then at Colin. “I do not owe you an explanation.”

Colin stepped a little closer. “I am not asking for one. I just want to talk.”

Erin’s breath caught, but she held her posture rigidly. She would not soften. She would not bend. She would not give him an inch.

Colin stood there, patient and steady, while Erin sat wrapped in her pride and anger, refusing to admit even to herself that she had overplayed her hand.

Colin stood just inside the doorway. “Erin,” he said softly, “Can we talk?”

She stared at him, her pride and hurt tangled together, the room warm and still around them.

            *           *           *

Colin stood a few feet from her, watching the stubborn set of her shoulders. He had tried patience, calm words, reason. None of it mattered. Erin’s silence was a wall. He felt something inside him snap, not anger exactly, but the need to break through the distance she had built.

“Erin,” he said quietly, “I am done standing here.”

She looked up, her eyes sharp. “Then leave.”

He stepped closer. “No. I have had enough of this.”

Her breath caught. He reached for her, wanting to pull her close, to end the fight with something human instead of words. His hands touched her arms. She reacted instantly; she moved her right arm back then swung it forward with force. Her palm struck his cheek with a sharp crack that echoed in the small room.

Colin froze. The sting burned, but not as much as the look in her eyes, proud, furious, trembling. For a moment, anger surged in him, hot and immediate. He wanted to shout, to demand why she always had to turn everything into a battle. But then he took another look at her face. The red eyes, the loose hair, the defiance that hid fear. Her beauty hit him like a wave, disarming him completely.

He exhaled slowly. “You can hit me again if you need to,” he said. “But I am not leaving.”

She stared at him, breathing hard. “You should.”

“No,” he said. “Not this time.”

He reached for her again, slower now, careful. She stiffened, but he did not stop. His hands rested lightly on her shoulders. She did not move. Her chin trembled, her eyes flickered, and the fight seemed to drain out of her.

“Erin,” he whispered, “I am not your enemy.”

Her voice came out small. “You walked away.”

“I did,” he said. “And I came back.”

She closed her eyes. For a moment, she looked as if she might push him away again. Then her shoulders dropped. She let him hold her, not warmly, not fully, but enough to show that her pride had cracked just a little.

Colin felt her resistance soften under his hands. He did not speak. He simply held her, knowing she would never admit she had been wrong, not tonight, maybe not ever, but she had stopped fighting. That was enough.

Helen cleared her throat. When they both turned to look at her, she began closing the door.

“I’ll leave you two young people alone. I can see you need time together.”

Colin saw Erin’s eyes grow wide in surprise and then a blush started at her cheeks and flowed down across her face and over her neck and chest.

Colin watched the door click shut behind Helen, her words still hanging in the air. The room felt smaller without her presence, quieter, warmer. Erin’s eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed, her breath caught in her throat. For a moment she looked frozen, as if she had been pushed onto a stage she did not agree to step onto.

Then she laughed.

It burst out of her in a startled sound, sharp and breathy, almost incredulous. She covered her mouth with her hand, her shoulders shaking as the laugh came again, softer this time. Colin stood still, watching her, feeling the tension in the room shift like sand under his feet. Her laugh was not cruel. It was not mocking. It was something else entirely, something fragile and overwhelmed.

He took a small step toward her. “Erin,” he said quietly. “Are you alright?”

She shook her head, still laughing under her breath. “I cannot believe she said that,” she murmured. “I cannot believe she closed the door. My mother, the pimp.”

Her blush deepened. Colin saw it spread across her cheeks, down her neck, across her collarbone. She looked away from him, embarrassed, but she did not pull back. She did not retreat into anger. She did not hide behind pride. Her laughter had broken something open.

He moved closer, slowly, careful not to startle her. She watched him with wide eyes, her expression a mixture of confusion and something warmer. He reached out and touched her arm lightly. She did not flinch. She did not slap him. She let him touch her.

“Erin,” he said, “I came because I wanted to see you.”

She swallowed. “I know.”

Her voice was small, almost shy, and he felt something tighten in his chest. He sat beside her on the bed, leaving a respectful space between them. She looked at him, her eyes still bright from the laughter, her blush still visible.

“I have been angry,” she said. “I have been very angry.”

“I know,” Colin replied. “I have been angry too.”

She looked down at her hands. “I did not think you would come.”

“I did,” he said. “I am here.”

She laughed again, softer now, almost a sigh. “I cannot believe she closed the door,” she repeated, shaking her head.

Colin smiled slightly. “She thinks we need time together.”

Erin’s blush returned, stronger than before. She looked at him, and for the first time since Friday night, her eyes softened. The anger was still there, but it was no longer the only thing in the room. Something warmer had taken its place, something hesitant and fragile.

She shifted closer to him, just an inch, but enough for him to feel the change. Her shoulder brushed his lightly. She did not pull away.

Colin felt her closeness like a quiet confession. She was not ready to forgive him. She was not ready to admit anything. But she was no longer pushing him out.

She turned her body sideways to him, eyes downcast. Her long hair spilled over her shoulder and touched his cheek. It was a connection. They both knew it.

He lifted her chin and looked into her green eyes, their pupils expanding in fear.

“Do you want me?” he whispered. “Do you want to make love to me?”

“My mother is right in the next room,” she said.

“We have her permission.”

Erin started to laugh again. Then he touched her thigh firmly but without squeezing.

“Oh.” The sound escaped her lips, and it seemed to communicate so much.

Then her lips were on his and that contact was so electrically tender that a shudder ran through his body. He wrapped his arms around her, and she lay back on the bed. Her mouth moved as his lips covered hers and she cried out again in amazement.

She began pulling at her slacks and he began to tug at the thin fabric of her tee shirt. He caressed her long neck with his lips, and she moved against him with unmistakable intent.

He felt the full length of her body pressing against him as their clothing vanished. He heard cloth tearing and seams ripping but she didn’t seem to notice or care.

“Please,” she moaned. “Please. Do it Colin. Do it now.”

She shivered as he entered her.

They were both trembling as she moaned and arched her back. He could feel the tension in her thighs as she grasped him in an elegant welcoming grip. She rammed her belly against him bucking and heaving, groaning with sensation. She twisted her upper torso, grinding her hardened nipples into his chest.

Then her movements became a rhythmic, thudding gasping consummation and he had to restrain himself from crying out in pure joy.

            *           *           *

Erin woke with the dawn light streaming through her west facing bedroom window. The soft gold glow fell across her blankets and the familiar sound of quail calling from the yard drifted through the quiet house. For a moment she lay still, hoping the world would feel normal again. It did not. She heard Colin’s breathing beside her, steady and calm, as if he belonged there.

‘My bluff failed. He should have given me what I wanted. He should not have walked out.’

She turned her head slightly and saw him asleep, his face relaxed. The sight made her chest tighten with anger and disappointment. She had wanted him to suffer for leaving her in that restaurant. Instead, he had come here, and her mother had let him in, and now he was in her bed as if everything were fine.

She whispered, “Why did you come here? Why did she let you in?”

Colin stirred but did not wake. Erin pushed the blanket away and sat up, her hair falling around her shoulders. The quail called again outside, their soft notes rising and falling. She pressed her hands to her face, trying to steady herself.

‘My mother and Celina both know Colin spent the night. How am I supposed to live with that? My mom must have suspected, but now she knows for a fact. She helped him. She actually helped him. Why would she do that?’

Erin stood and walked to the window, staring out at the pale morning sky. The anger simmered in her chest, sharp and familiar. She felt betrayed by her mother, frustrated with herself, and furious at Colin for dismantling her carefully built wall of silence.

She turned back toward the bed. “You should not be here,” she said quietly. “I did not want you here.”

Colin breathed evenly, still asleep, unaware of the storm waiting for him when he woke.

She got back into bed moving slowly and carefully so as not to wake him. He smelled good, like a man. He felt good as she pressed her body gently against his. The sex had been great. It always was, but she wasn’t sure what it meant in the overall scheme of things.

There was one good thing. He had seen her at her worst and he still wanted her. He could look beyond the makeup and the clothes and see her as a woman. She could use that. She would hang on to that.

Colin moved and she realized he was about to wake up. She had to decide how to act. She knew perfectly well how she felt, but she didn’t know if she should let Colin find that out.

Erin felt Colin move beside her and felt the shift of the mattress. The sound of his breathing changed, lighter now, the rhythm of someone about to wake. She froze, her heart beating faster. The morning light had grown stronger, spilling across the floor and touching the edge of the bed.

‘He is waking up. What am I supposed to do? Pretend nothing happened? Pretend I do not care?’

She turned her head slightly and saw his eyes flutter open. He looked peaceful, unaware of the storm waiting for him. Erin’s anger stirred again, sharp and familiar. She wanted to speak first, to control the moment before he could.

“Are you awake?” she asked quietly.

Colin blinked and smiled faintly. “I think so.”

She looked away, her voice tightening. “You should not have stayed.”

He sat up slowly. “Your mother said it was all right.”

Erin’s jaw clenched. “She should not have said that.”

‘He thinks this means something. He thinks I have forgiven him. I cannot let him believe that.’

Colin rubbed his eyes and looked at her. “Do you want me to leave?”

She hesitated. The question hung between them, heavy and dangerous. She knew perfectly well how she felt. She wanted him close, but she also wanted him to pay for hurting her pride.

‘If I tell him to go, he will go. If I let him stay, he will think he has won.’

Erin looked at him, keeping her expression unreadable. “I have not decided yet,” she said. “Maybe I will tell you later.”

Colin nodded slowly, watching her, and the silence between them deepened. He took her in his arms, and she let him kiss her. He turned her so that she was facing away, and she could feel his erection hard and insistent pressing against her hips.

‘Should I let him make love to me again? What would seem natural?’

Before she could make up her mind, he cupped her left breast in his big right hand, and she felt an electric thrill run through her body. It wasn’t a question of deciding. You didn’t decide on how to react to a tsunami crashing over you in the ocean. You submitted. You had no choice in the matter.

Her heart was pounding and there was this delicious heat she felt.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been in this bed,” he murmured as he kissed the side of her neck.

She turned to stare at him, startled. “What are you talking about?”

“After I got out of the Army,” he said. “You brought me in here after your parents went to bed. You said they would never find out.”

Her arousal disappeared like a magician’s illusion. Erectile tissues softened. Her breathing slowed and her heart calmed down. Her physical desire was replaced by something else.

The memory enflamed other sensations that began raging through her mind and body. Erin felt the flashback strike her like a tidal bore. The room seemed to tilt slightly, the morning light too bright, the air too still. He was right. They had been in this bed before. The mattress was new, but the frame was the very one that had been here in 1970 when she brought him in after her parents had gone to bed. She had been certain they would never find out but he had been so wild she’d had to stop him before he made too much noise.

“You were scared,” he said.

“I was not scared.”

“The hell you weren’t. You were scared of getting pregnant. You were scared that your parents would find out what you were doing.”

‘That girl had no idea what she was doing. She thought she could make the world bend to her will. She thought she could do anything.’

Her throat tightened. She looked away from him, toward the window where the sunlight touched the curtains.

“You remember that?” she asked.

“I remember everything,” Colin said. “You were frightened.”

Erin laughed softly, but there was no humor in it. “Frightened and foolish.”

‘Look at me now. I made such a mess of everything. I lost the hope I had then. I lost the certainty. I lost him.’

She turned back to him, her voice low. “You should not remind me of that night.”

Colin watched her carefully. “It was not a bad memory.”

“It is now,” she said. “Because it reminds me of what I used to be.”

The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the ghosts of youth and choices that could never be undone.

            *           *           *

Colin stepped quietly out of Erin’s bedroom after she went into the bathroom.

The hallway felt cooler than the room they had shared, and he paused for a moment, trying to steady himself. The memory she had stirred in him, the way she had looked at him, the way she had laughed, all of it still clung to him. He walked toward the kitchen, aware of the smell of coffee.

Helen stood at the counter, pouring herself a cup. She looked up when he entered and smiled in a way that made him feel both welcome and exposed.

“Good morning, Colin. Did you sleep well?” she asked.

He felt heat rise in his face. “I, well, I suppose I did.”

Helen laughed, a warm, knowing sound. “You young people never realize that we older people have gone through the same trials and experiences you are having. You think everything you feel is new.”

Colin rubbed the back of his neck. “I did not mean to stay. I did not plan it.”

“I know,” Helen said. “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

“No thank you ma’am.”

“Colin, for goodness’ sake. Don’t call me ma’am. You make me feel as old as the Catalina Mountains. My name is Helen.”

“Yes Helen,” he said, feeling ashamed of himself. He was manipulating this woman’s daughter. For a moment, he wanted to apologize.

“I had forgotten that you don’t like coffee,” she said.

“I didn’t realize you ever knew that,” he said.

“I know a great deal about you, Colin. “I know you are good for my daughter.”

He looked down, unsure how to respond. “I don’t know if she thinks that.”

Helen leaned against the counter. “She does. She will never say it, but she does. Erin has always been stubborn. She holds back because she is afraid of being hurt. You are not the one holding back.”

Colin felt a tightness in his chest. He realized what Helen believed, what she assumed. She thought he wanted to marry Erin. She thought Erin was the one resisting, the one keeping the future at arm’s length.

He swallowed. “Helen, I do not know if she wants anything like that.”

Helen gave him a gentle, almost pitying smile. “She does. She is just afraid. You are patient with her. You always have been.”

Colin felt guilt settle over him. He had walked out of the restaurant. He had hurt Erin’s pride. He had made her cry. He had forced her into a corner she did not know how to escape. He had not been patient then.

“I am not sure I deserve that kind of trust,” he said quietly.

Helen reached out and touched his arm. “You do. You came back. That is what matters.”

Colin nodded slowly, but the guilt remained. He wondered if Erin would ever forgive him, or if she even wanted to. He wondered if Helen was wrong, or if Erin’s anger was only a mask for something deeper.

He looked toward the hallway. Erin was still in the bathroom, still deciding how to act, still deciding what he meant to her.

He felt the weight of that choice more heavily than ever.

Chapter 8 – Helen Decides to Help

Helen’s kitchen glowed with warm light from the overhead fixtures, the pot roast simmering in a heavy Dutch oven that filled the air with thyme and onions. Erin stood near the doorway, arms folded tight, her foot tapping against the tile.

“Colin hasn’t called,” she said. She tried to sound casual, but her voice betrayed her.

Helen looked up from the stove and smiled. Erin frowned.

“Why are you smiling?”

Helen turned, her apron dusted with flour. The counters were crowded with chopped vegetables, a cooling pie, and the table already set with placemats. Erin’s eyes widened.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “You went grocery shopping this morning. You’ve been cooking all day. What’s going on?”

“I may have mentioned to Colin that we’re having my special pot roast tonight.”

“What? You invited him to dinner? Mom, I’m not dressed. I didn’t do my hair.”

Helen laughed softly. “If you look like a housewife, maybe you’ll start to feel like a housewife.”

Erin’s cheeks flushed. “You think I’m afraid to commit?”

Helen stirred the pot again. “Sweetheart, Colin is devoted. He wants a future with you. He’s probably nervous because he’s serious.”

‘She doesn’t see it. She thinks he’s ready to propose any minute. She thinks I’m the one dragging my feet. She has no idea he’s dangling marriage like bait, keeping me close without giving me anything real.’

Erin stepped closer, watching steam rise from the pot. “Mom, you shouldn’t have invited him. You’re making this harder.”

Helen blinked. “Harder? Erin, he adores you. He’s trying. You just need to meet him halfway.”

‘Trying? He’s trying to keep things exactly as they are. He knows I want a ring. He knows I’m waiting. And he knows how to keep me hoping without ever promising a thing.’

Erin sighed, brushing her hair back. “Mom, please stop interfering.”

Helen smiled again, confident and pleased. “You’ll see. Tonight will be good for both of you.”

‘Good for him. He’ll charm her, kiss me goodnight, and leave me wanting more. And she’ll still think he’s the one trying to marry me.’

            *           *           *

Erin stood in the hallway mirror, brushing her hair until it lay smooth over her shoulders. She pulled on an old yellow blouse, the fabric soft from years of washing. When she opened her drawer, all she found was the orange skirt she hated. It was too short and far too bright. She had only bought it because it was on sale. She muttered under her breath as she stepped into it. “Great. I look like a traffic cone.” She tugged the hem down. “Why tonight of all nights?”

Erin walked into the kitchen and stole a piece of celery from the counter.

Helen glanced up. “You look nice.”

“Nice? In this? Mom, I look like a rag bag. Why did you invite him without asking me?”

Helen smiled as she set plates on the table. “Because Colin should see you at home. It helps a man imagine the future.”

Erin stiffened. “What future?”

Helen laughed. “A married future. What else would he want?”

‘She has no idea. She thinks he is the one dreaming about rings and vows. She thinks I am the one running away. She does not know how many nights I waited for him to say something real. She does not know how foolish I feel for wanting him so badly.’

Colin arrived just as Helen pulled the roast from the oven. Erin sat across from him, pushing potatoes around her plate.

Celina said, “This is the best meal we’ve had in weeks.”

Erin saw Helen’s cheeks flush. She looked away from Colin, then kept talking. “Erin, you should be thinking about settling down. A woman like you should not wait forever.”

Erin smiled politely. “I like taking things slow.”

‘And I don’t want you running my life, mom.’

Helen nodded. “Of course. Erin is cautious. She always has been.”

Erin’s fork froze. “Cautious? Mom, what makes you think that?”

Helen tilted her head. “You never rush into anything. Colin is patient with you.”

‘Patient? He is patient because he has no intention of marrying me. He is patient because he knows I will keep trying. She thinks I am the one holding back. She thinks he is ready to propose. She cannot see how wrong she is.’

Helen studied Erin’s face. “Honey, are you feeling alright?”

Erin forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

‘She can tell something is wrong. She just does not know it is shame. She does not know I have been chasing a man who keeps me dangling. I have acted like a wanton slut, and the worst thing is that it didn’t do any good. Mom does not know how badly I want what she thinks I fear.’

Erin stepped onto the front porch with Colin, the wooden boards warm from the day’s sun. The porch light cast a soft glow over the railing, and the desert sky stretched above them in deep blue fading toward black. She smoothed her orange skirt, wishing again that she had anything else to wear. The yellow blouse felt too bright, too loud, too much. Her red hair and green eyes already drew attention. She hated adding more color to the mix. She leaned against the railing and tried to steady her breathing.

Colin stood beside her, hands in his pockets. “Dinner was great,” he said. “Your mom really knows how to cook.”

“She does,” Erin said. “She went all out for you.”

Colin looked at her for a long moment. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Erin swallowed. “About what?”

“Well, let’s start with the fact that you mother went all out for dinner. I know you don’t have a lot of money. I hope I didn’t strain your household budget.”

“You didn’t.”

He laughed. “You are usually a better liar than that, Erin. I can tell what’s going on.”

She leaned against the porch railing giving him an inviting look. She was embarrassed that he had seen how much they needed money. The night had been terrible, and she just wanted him to take her to bed and help her forget all about it.

He stepped closer and she got ready for him to wrap his arms around her. He gave her a light kiss on the lips and pulled back to look into her eyes.

“I’m going to start giving you five hundred dollars a month.”

Erin blinked. “What?”

“Five hundred dollars. I’ll give you a check on the first of every month.”

Why would you do that?”

“I want to make sure money is not a consideration in the way you feel. I told you that before. I gave you one thousand, but now I see that it’s been spent. You need more.”

“Colin?” she asked, trying to absorb what he was saying to her. “Are you in a financial position to do that?”

Colin shrugged. “My job was a fluke. I got hired because someone quit at the right moment. I make more money than I deserve. Money is only important if you don’t have enough of it. I have more than I need.”

Erin stared at him. “You want to give me money? Just like that?”

He nodded.

“I don’t want you worrying about anything, at least not money.”

‘He is buying my feelings. He is buying my patience. He is buying time. If this money were free and clear, I would walk away tomorrow. I would take it and leave him behind. But he still holds the strings. He knows exactly how to keep me close.’

Erin looked out at the yard, the porch light catching the edges of the mesquite tree.

“Colin, this is a lot. Why would you think I need this?”

Colin smiled gently. “Because I can see how you live. I care about you. I want you to have more. I want you to be able to help your mother and take care of Celina. I want you to feel secure.”

‘Secure? He wants me dependent. He wants me grateful. He wants me tied to him so tightly that I cannot leave without feeling guilty. He knows I want marriage. He knows I am waiting. And he knows I will take whatever scraps he offers if they look like commitment.’

Erin folded her arms. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know I don’t. I want to,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

‘He is not taking care of me. He is keeping me exactly where he wants me. And I am ashamed because my mother thinks he is the one chasing marriage. She thinks I am the reluctant one. She has no idea how shameless I have been, how desperate I feel, how much I have already given him.’

Erin forced a small smile. “I need to think about it.”

Colin nodded. “Of course. Take all the time you need.”

‘Time. He gives me time because he knows I will use it to hope. And he knows hope is the leash he never has to pull.’

            *           *           *

Erin stood on the porch with her arms wrapped around herself, the night air warm against her skin. The porch light cast a soft circle of gold across the boards, and the desert sky stretched above them in deep blue. She had hoped to spend the night in Colin’s bed. She had hoped for closeness, reassurance, something that felt like progress. Instead, his offer still echoed in her ears. She looked at him and forced her voice to stay steady.

“Colin, I think you should go.”

He blinked. “Go? Now?”

“Yes. Please.”

He studied her face for a moment, then nodded.

“Alright. If that’s what you want.” He walked down the steps without argument, his car door clicking shut in the quiet evening. Erin watched the taillights disappear down the street, her stomach tight.

She went inside. Helen stood at the sink, rinsing dishes. “He left already?”

“Yes,” Erin said. “Mom, he offered me money. Five hundred dollars a month.”

Helen’s eyes widened. “He did? Erin, that proves he loves you.”

Erin shook her head. “No, it doesn’t. It makes me feel cheap. It feels like he’s buying sex.”

Helen turned, drying her hands. “I don’t mean to be indelicate dear, but haven’t you been giving him that for some time now?”

Erin stared at her. “Mom, what did you just say?”

Helen raised her eyebrows. “Why does he need to buy it if he’s getting it for free?”

Erin felt her face burn. She backed away from the kitchen and walked down the hall to her bedroom. She closed the door and leaned against it, her thoughts tangled and sharp.

‘She is right. He is not trying to buy sex. He already has that. He is trying to buy something else. But what? Why would he give me money? What does he want from me? He says he wants me to feel secure. He says he cares. But he never talks about marriage. He never talks about a future. He only talks about comfort. He only talks about keeping things easy.’

Erin sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the yellow blouse she had tossed over a chair. The room felt too small, too warm, too bright.

‘If the money were free and clear, I would leave him. I know I would. But it is not free. It comes with strings I cannot see yet. He is holding them lightly, but he is holding them. And I am ashamed because my mother thinks he is the one chasing commitment. She thinks I am the one afraid. She has no idea how badly I want what she thinks I fear.’

Erin pressed her hands to her face.

‘Why is he doing this? What does he really want?’

            *           *           *

Erin’s sleep was so deep that when she slowly came awake on Saturday morning it was with an odd, drifting sense of confusion. Sunlight poured through her curtains in bright, slanted beams, warming the carpet and turning the dust motes into floating sparks. Even before she looked at the clock, she knew it was midmorning. Saturday morning, she realized. And suddenly she remembered everything she had to face.

She swung her legs out of bed and sat up. A dull ache spread through her thighs and lower back, a lingering soreness from Colin’s hard use of her on Wednesday night. It felt distant now, yet her body had not forgotten.

She pressed her palms against her eyes and relived the moment on the porch, that sharp and unbelievable instant when he had offered her money. Five hundred dollars a month. The memory struck her again with the same bitterness. He had made her feel like a whore. He might as well have left cash on her dresser when he walked away.

‘He defeated me again. Every time. I have tried everything. I tried to be seductive. I tried to argue. I even threatened to leave him. Nothing worked. He is always one step ahead. Now he has made me feel indebted. He claims he wants to remove financial pressure, but it is manipulation.’

She stood and walked into the bathroom. The mirror waited for her, tall and unforgiving. She took a deep, shuddering breath and turned slowly to face her reflection. Her eyes looked somber. Her skin looked tired. Her body felt worn and heavy.

She began her morning routines, finding in their familiar motions a faint comfort. She showered, and as the hot water streamed over her, she scrubbed her skin with fierce determination, as if she could wash away the memory of his offer.

When she came out of the bathroom, her mother greeted her with a cheerful good morning. Helen’s kitchen was bright and spotless, the counters gleaming, the coffee maker humming. Erin startled herself by humming softly above the metallic drone of the juicer as she pressed orange halves against it. The sound surprised her. She felt pleased she could hum, yet guilty for it. Was it going to mean that little after all?

‘Forget it, Erin. Put it out of your silly head. It happened to me, but it was like getting run over. Or drowning. It happened, so it happened, and there is no harm done. Maybe it even taught me something. Maybe love is more complicated than I thought. Is this love? I do not think so. But I am not in charge. What Colin did was a snare. A delusion. It made me feel dirty. It feels like a kind of bondage. It would tie me to him forever.’

The smell of coffee grew richer. Erin watched her mother put butter in the frying pan and take eggs from the refrigerator. She thought of how she had looked in the mirror. Just the same. Nothing showed. She did not have to tell.

Helen placed breakfast on the table and gave her a warm smile. Erin sat down slowly. As she looked at the food, a realization settled over her with surprising clarity. This was exactly what she had been working toward. She did not want Colin to marry her because she loved him. She wanted the security and comfort marriage offered. Now he was giving her that for free. She could accept his help and still keep her freedom. It was the perfect solution. She had simply been too blind to see it.

            *           *           *

Erin sat at the kitchen table with her coffee, the morning light spilling across the counter in soft gold. As she lifted the cup, a sudden lift rose in her chest, a lightness she had not felt in years. She looked around the quiet kitchen and felt her breath loosen.

“This will change everything,” she whispered.

She thought about rent and groceries. She thought about her daughter’s shoes and school supplies. She thought about her mother’s bills stored neatly in the shoe box. She thought about how she could finally breathe. Five hundred dollars a month was like a full-time job. In addition to that, she would find work eventually and that would bring in even more money.

‘This will help all of us. I will not have to worry every single day. I can stop feeling trapped. I can stop feeling worried.’

Relief washed through her, warm and dizzy. She felt excited, almost giddy. She stood up quickly, her chair scraping the floor. “I have to tell him,” she said. “I have to tell him right now.”

This was no ordinary day. She wanted to dress up for Colin, but she still hadn’t been to the laundromat. Her choices in clothing were limited. She didn’t want to wear the yellow blouse and orange skirt again.

‘I’ll be able to buy new clothes,’ she thought as she pawed through her closet.

She pulled out her old gray tee shirt and brown jeans. They would have to do. She tossed them on the bed and plunged into a drawer. She pulled out socks and began to search for a clean pair of underpants.

‘I really do need to do laundry.’

There was one more pair of socks but no panties. She glanced at the hamper. Should she wear a slightly rumpled pair? Or should she just leave on the ones she’d been wearing for twenty-four hours?

‘No,’ she thought with a giggle. ‘Not this day.’

She was going to see Colin, and she was not about to wear day-old panties. She would go commando, bare-assed, and watch his eyes when he found out.

She grabbed her purse from the counter and hurried out the door, her heart fluttering with nervous excitement.

‘Do not think. Just go. Tell him before you start doubting yourself again.’

She drove quickly through the bright morning streets, her hands tight on the wheel. She did not plan what she would say. She did not think about consequences. She only thought about relief and gratitude, the strange happiness blooming inside her.

When she turned into Colin’s apartment complex, she saw his truck parked in its usual spot. Her breath caught. She pulled into a space nearby and sat for a moment, staring at the familiar vehicle.

‘He is home. I can tell him. I can make this real.’

            *           *           *

Colin opened the door with a look of surprise that softened almost immediately into pleasure. “Erin? What are you doing here?” he asked.

She stood on the threshold, her cheeks flushed. “I accept your offer,” she said. The words came out quickly, almost breathless.

A breeze caught her long scarlet hair and made it spill over her left shoulder. Her eyes were glowing with delight.

Colin felt a warm satisfaction. He stepped aside and gestured toward the living room.

“Come in. I’m glad you told me.”

Erin walked past him, her face bright with pride and happiness.

“I feel wanted,” she said. “I feel valued. I feel chosen.”

Colin watched her closely, his satisfaction quiet and complete.

‘It worked. She came to me. She accepted exactly the way I hoped she would.’

He poured bourbon and Coke into two glasses and handed one to her. “Sit with me?” he asked.

They settled close together on the couch. Erin took a sip and let out a small sigh. “This will help my daughter so much. And my mother. I cannot tell you how much it means.”

Colin nodded. “I’m glad it helps.”

He listened with gentle interest as she talked, pleased by the gratitude in her voice. Erin leaned against him, her shoulder touching his.

“I feel safe,” she said. “I feel comfortable. I feel relieved.”

He put his arm around her. She lifted her face and kissed him. The closeness deepened, warm and eager, a celebration of shared relief and new certainty.

‘I did it. I found the perfect solution. I feel triumphant.’

Colin held her tighter, his thoughts calm and satisfied.

‘She is tied to me now. More tightly than ever.’

Erin pulled back, leaned forward and picked up her glass. The room was filled with her scent. Her green eyes were huge and inviting. She took a drink. As she put the glass back on the coffee table, she pressed the silky weight of her left breast against his arm. He felt her warm breath on his cheek; saw the way her lips had gone soft.

She made a huge noisy inhalation, and she was trembling in his arms. He tugged at her belt, stripped the zipper down the front of her jeans.

“Hurry,” she whispered.

Half an hour later, she had hitched herself to rest upon him. Her silky crimson hair spilling over his left shoulder and her soft warm body pressed tightly against his. He felt her take a deep breath and let it out with little pulsing against his throat. He ran his hand across her shoulder and slid it down the satiny length of her back and hips. She made a contented sound and arched her back to press her whiskery loins against his thigh.

“I never want to move,” she said in a sighing whisper. “I want to stay right here until the end of time.”

“Me too.”

She chuckled and stretched against him like a kitten. She was almost purring.

“Mmmm,” she said. “It just gets better and better with you Colin. It was so nice. I love the way you hold me. I can say anything to you, any fool thing that pops into my head.”

“I know,” he said. “I feel that too. We fit. We’re a perfect match. I’m so glad I thought to give you that money. It was worth every penny.”

Her body stiffened and she pushed herself away to hitch up on her right side.

“What the hell does that mean?” she demanded. “What do you think you bought with your damned money?”

“Easy Erin,” he said, trying to pull her back into his arms. “I didn’t mean anything.”

“The hell you didn’t,” she snapped sitting up.

“Don’t start doubting anything,” he insisted. “You just said we could say anything that popped into our heads.”

“I didn’t say you could brag about buying me.”

“You misunderstood. I didn’t mean it like that. Stop feeling insecure, Erin. You’re losing the glow.”

“You’re not going to talk your way out of this one. I knew I shouldn’t accept that money. I knew it was a trick.”

She leaped out of bed, grabbed her clothes and rushed into the bathroom. Before he could stop her, she was out the door, slamming it hard.

            *           *           *

Erin drove toward the University of Arizona with her vision blurred by tears. The hot morning light flashed across the windshield, making her blink hard. She gripped the wheel and felt anger rising in her throat.

“How could he say that?” she whispered. “How could he think that?”

Her voice shook. She felt like a fool. Colin had tricked her, and her mother had helped him without even knowing it.

‘They played me. I walked right into it. I let myself believe it was kindness. I let myself believe it was love.’

She turned into the familiar campus loop and parked near the front gate. The old red brick library stood ahead of her, solid and unchanged. Palm trees swayed in the warm wind, their fronds scraping softly against each other. She had spent hundreds of hours inside that building as an undergraduate. Now, as she walked toward it, she felt a strange ache in her chest.

Inside, students hurried past her with backpacks and bright faces. They looked impossibly young. Erin paused near the circulation desk and stared at them. “How are they so young?” she whispered. “Was I ever that young?”

Two co-eds were walking across the lobby. One said, “We went to Raging Bull last night. It was cool beans.”

“What’s with this cool beans?” the other said laughing.

“Haven’t you heard? Nothing is bitchin’ anymore. Everything is cool beans. You really need to keep current.”

‘They make me feel old. Old and ugly and used. I should not feel this way. I should not let him make me feel this way.’

She approached a reference librarian wearing blue horn-rimmed glasses. The woman’s name tag read Victoria.

Erin cleared her throat. “Can you help me find information about finance? Maybe different forms of income?”

Victoria nodded. “Of course. What kind of income are you interested in?”

“I am not sure,” Erin said. “Something stable. Something that helps people get ahead.”

Victoria smiled kindly. “Let me show you a section that might help.”

She led Erin down a quiet aisle lined with tall shelves. The air smelled of paper and dust. Victoria pulled out several books and handed them over. “These cover different income strategies. Let me know if you need more.”

Erin held the books tightly.

‘This is the right direction. I do not know the details yet, but I know I have to do something. I will not let him own me. I will not let him decide my future.’

Erin carried the books to a nearby table and set them down. The library felt cool and hushed, the air heavy with the scent of old paper. A student whispered to another at a distant table. Someone turned a page with a soft flick. The ceiling fans hummed gently, stirring the warm desert air that drifted in through the old vents. She opened the first book and scanned the index.

“Annuities,” she murmured. “What are these?”

She flipped to a chapter and began reading. The words felt dense at first, but she forced herself to slow down. “Fixed annuities,” she whispered. “Guaranteed payments. Predictable.” She turned the page. “Variable annuities. Payments change based on investments.” Another page. “Immediate annuities. Payments start right away.” She frowned. “Deferred annuities. Payments begin later.”

‘This is money that comes every month. Money that does not depend on him. Money that does not depend on anyone. Something steady. Something that cannot be taken away with one stupid comment.’

She looked up. A group of students walked past her table, laughing softly. Their faces were bright and young. She felt a pang in her chest. “How are they so youthful?” she whispered. “Why do I feel so ancient? I feel like a worm on a birthday cake.”

She turned another page. A chart showed how annuities could supplement income. Another section described how people used them to create long term stability. Erin leaned closer.

“This could work,” she whispered. “This could actually work.”

She read about how some annuities required large upfront payments. Others allowed smaller contributions over time. She traced a line of text with her fingertip. “Income you cannot outlive,” she read aloud.

‘Something I can build myself. Something that belongs to me. Something he cannot touch.’

She closed the book gently and sat back, listening to the soft rustle of pages around her. The idea was still vague, still forming, but it glowed inside her like a small spark.

‘I can use this. I know I can. I do not have the details yet, but this is the right direction. I will not let him own me. I will not let him decide my future.’

Erin drove back toward Colin’s apartment with her hands tight on the wheel. The desert sky had shifted to a pale afternoon blue, but she barely saw it. When she had left his place earlier, she had been shaking with anger and humiliation. Now she felt something different. Her chest felt steadier. Her thoughts felt sharper. She had a plan. It was not detailed or polished, but it pointed in the right direction. It gave her something to hold on to.

‘He will not control me. Not with money. Not with anything. I will make sure of it.’

She turned into the parking lot and saw his car in its usual space. Her stomach tightened, but she did not hesitate. She walked quickly to the stairs and climbed them, her sandals tapping against the concrete.

When she knocked, Colin opened the door with a delighted smile. “Erin, you came back. I knew you would.”

She pushed past him into the living room. “I need to talk to you.”

“What is going on?” he asked.

“I have a plan,” she said. “If you really want to take money out of our relationship, this is how to do it.”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

She faced him squarely. “I want you to buy a fixed term annuity. It will pay me five hundred dollars a month for the next five years. That way you will not control the money. You will not be handing it to me. It will come automatically.”

Colin stared at her. “An annuity? Erin, where did this come from?”

‘Do not back down. Do not let him twist this. You found something solid. Hold on to it.’

She lifted her chin. “I went to the library. I read about different kinds of income. This is the right way. If you meant what you said, you will do it.”

He opened his mouth, closed it, then looked at her with a mixture of surprise and calculation.

Erin waited, her heart pounding, her plan shining inside her like a small, fierce flame.

Erin stood up with her pulse hammering in her ears. The room felt too warm, too close. His beige carpet looked dull under the afternoon light, and the framed desert prints on the wall seemed suddenly cheap. She could smell the faint sweetness of the bourbon he had poured earlier, still lingering in the air. Colin listened as she laid out her plan, his expression shifting from confusion to irritation.

He shook his head. “Erin, I get paid every two weeks. It would be easy for me to give you money each month, but I do not have a lump sum to buy an annuity.”

“I thought of that,” she said, flipping through her notes with trembling fingers. “You can take out a loan. You can make payments to one bank to pay off the loan. Another bank can manage the annuity and pay me. That way you will have no control over the money. That way there will be no way money can affect our relationship.”

“How big a loan?”

“It will cost twenty-five thousand dollars for a five-year annuity.”

“Why five years?”

“That’s enough time for us both to find out how we really feel. They have longer annuities, but they get really expensive.”

“That’s expensive enough.”

“No, it isn’t,” she insisted. “That’s the beauty of my plan. This won’t cost you any more than you were planning to spend. You will just be paying the bank instead of me.”

Colin stared at her. “How do you know all this?”

“I took a freshman class in finance,” she said. “Today, a nice lady named Victoria helped me find what I needed at the library.”

“I need to think,” Colin said. His voice had tightened. He was obviously vying for time.

“No, you do not,” she said. “You said you wanted to take the money out of the equation. This is a way to do it. Are you a man of your word, or are you a snake?”

She watched his jaw clench. The sunlight from the window fell across his face, sharpening the lines around his mouth. His apartment felt suddenly oppressive, the air heavy with tension. The couch where they had kissed looked rumpled and accusing. The glass he had used earlier sat on the coffee table, a ring of condensation marking the wood.

‘Do not let him twist this. Do not let him talk you out of it. You found something solid. Hold on to it. He will try to make you doubt yourself. He always does.’

Erin stepped closer, her voice steady. “You said you wanted to help me. You said you wanted to take money out of our relationship. This is how to do it.”

Colin rubbed his forehead. “Erin, this is complicated. You are asking me to take out a loan. You are asking me to commit to something huge.”

She felt her anger rise again. “You offered me money. You said you wanted to make things easier. Now I am giving you a way to do that without controlling me. This gives me financial security and independence. You wanted to see how I would feel if money wasn’t an issue. This will let you do that.”

‘He wants control. He always wants control. He never expected me to come back with a plan. He thought I would just take whatever he gave me and be grateful.’

Colin looked around the room as if searching for an escape. “I just need time.”

“No,” she said. “You do not need time. You need to decide. Come on. Fish or cut bait.”

The question hung in the air, sharp and bright, cutting through the silence of the apartment. Erin stood her ground, her notes clutched tightly in her hand, her plan burning inside her like a fierce, steady flame.

Epilogue

Colin never told Erin, but he agreed to the annuity as a test. A definitive one. He didn’t trust her, not really, not after what happened in Santa Fe, and this was the only way to settle the question without blowing up the fragile thing they still had. If she stayed, she proved her love. If she left, she proved he was right not to trust her.

It was expensive, yes. But not as expensive as trusting her again and being wrong.

He signed the papers, funded the account, and handed her the envelope with the confirmation slip inside. Erin stared at it for a long time, as if the weight of the paper was heavier than the money itself. She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t ask her to.

For the first time in months, the air between them felt still.

And then something happened that Colin had not planned for. Once Erin had a guaranteed source of income, once she knew she would never again be trapped, never again be desperate, never again be forced into a corner, she finally had room to think. To breathe. To feel.

She realized she liked him.

Not because she needed him. Not because she feared losing him. Not because she was trying to survive.

She liked the dinners. She liked the quiet evenings on his couch. She liked the way he touched her, the way he looked at her, the way he listened when he thought she wasn’t paying attention. She liked the sex, not as leverage, not as currency, but simply because she liked it.

And she liked that she could have all of that without the bonds of marriage.

So, she stayed.

Not out of fear. Not out of need. Not out of obligation.

She stayed because she wanted to.

Colin never asked her to move in. Erin never asked him to propose. They didn’t redefine anything, didn’t label anything, didn’t fix anything that wasn’t broken. They simply kept seeing each other, quietly, steadily, without the pressure that had once poisoned everything.

In the end, both cons succeeded.

Erin got the financial security she had always craved. Colin got to keep Erin without marrying her.

And the strangest part was that, once the games were over, they finally began to trust each other, not because they had to, but because they chose to.

Helen loved Erin and Celina, but it was a lot less work for her after they moved out. She had time for herself and even started a new flower garden.

Celina got five new dresses for school. The best part was the giant box of crayons that even had a sharpener built into the box. It made her an instant hit with the other kids.